Page 98 of The Burning

“Initially, the husband. You know how it goes. But the guy had a solid alibi. He was at a neighbor’s all day, helping with some sick livestock.”

“Suspect?”

“Not a one. Case is still open. Gets looked at every year. Unfortunately, we’ve not made any progress.”

“What about physical evidence?” I ask. “At the scene? Were there footwear impressions? On the bank of the pond? Did you guys look at the concrete block? The rope?”

“By the time we realized we were dealing with a homicide, Chief Burkholder, any footwear impressions were either trampled by first responders or washed away by the rain that came that night,” he replies. “We looked at the rope and block. Both were relatively new. We checked with area retailers, looked at hundreds of hours of CCTV, and we came up with nothing.”

Silence ensues and I sense his curiosity about my inquiry. “Chief Burkholder, if you don’t mind my asking, how is this cold case related to your investigation in Painters Mill?”

I outline fundamentals of the Swanz homicide. “The ViCAP signature match is likely the Amish angle and that the crime occurred in a rural area.”

“I guess we’re in the same boat. No suspect.”

“Yet,” I add.

“Gotta love an optimist cop.” I hear the smile in his voice. “If you come up with a connection or lead, I’d appreciate a heads-up.”

“Bet on it,” I tell him.

And we end the call.

I spend twenty minutes scouring the internet for information on the Stoltzfus case, looking for a link to Painters Mill or Martyrs Mirror or any of the names connected to the case, but my efforts net zero. I’m about to mark it off my list when I spot the underscored hyperlink on one of the pages Margaret brought in earlier. Suicide in Amish Country—or Was It? It’s a teaser headline written by a popular Amish-centric citizen journalist out of Lancaster County who also produces a successful podcast. This one was published in July 2012.

Was the death of Lena Stoltzfus a suicide, as the police initially believed? Or was this young Amish woman’s death something much darker? Find out by tuning in to my latest podcast.

My interest surges. Snatching up the paper, I spin to my computer and pull up the podcaster’s YouTube channel.

“Hi, everyone! I’m Dan with AmishWorldUSA. Welcome to my show! Crime is the last thing on your mind when you think of the Amish here in peaceful Lancaster County, but that’s exactly what we have today. This one’s got some dark undertones, folks, and probably isn’t appropriate for kids, so consider yourselves forewarned.”

The young host chose the ideal spot for an on-location report. He’s standing in front of a pretty Amish farm with a white farmhouse, mature trees, a red bank barn, and a silo in the background. The house sits relatively close to the road, so he’s close enough for his viewers to feel as if they have a front-row seat to the action. The bucolic setting is perfectly juxtaposed with the flashing lights of a sheriff’s department cruiser, a string of yellow crime scene tape, and uniformed deputies and khaki-clad detectives milling about in the background.

“Behind me is the farm where twenty-six-year-old Lena Stoltzfus was found dead a few hours ago,” the podcaster begins. “The Amish woman lived here with her husband of six years, John.”

He assumes a solemn countenance. “According to police, Mr. Stoltzfus discovered his wife’s body when he arrived home after helping his neighbor with a sick cow. Like most Amish, the Stoltzfuses don’t have a phone, and John ran half a mile down the road to an English neighbor’s house where he called 911.

“I spoke to one of the neighbors earlier—who wished to remain anonymous—and they informed me that Lena had been troubled as of late. Her husband knew she sometimes found solace walking the fields of this pastoral farm. So, today, when Mr. Stoltzfus came home to an empty house, he went looking for her—and found her facedown in the pond, dead.” The narrator motions to the property behind him. “Just two hundred yards away, behind that barn.”

Over the next minutes, the podcaster interviews several Amish standers-by. Some are neighbors. Friends. One of the interviewees was driving by in his buggy and stopped by to find out why all the police cars were there. Most of the Amish who are interviewed don’t show their faces on camera, but a couple do.

“Lena was a troubled thing,” says a middle-aged Amish woman, her back to the camera. “I talked to her just a week ago at worship. She wanted a family so badly. When she lost those three sweet babies, the sadness just crushed the life out of her.”

The podcaster watches her walk away and turns back to the camera. “Not everyone, however, believed Lena Stoltzfus was without fault.” He thrusts the microphone toward a young Amish woman, who tosses him an annoyed look, and quickly turns her back. “Ma’am, I understand you have a differing take on what might’ve happened to Lena Stoltzfus.”

She starts to walk away, but the podcaster keeps pace with her. “When we spoke earlier, you mentioned rumors,” he prods. “Can you tell us about that?”

She doesn’t slow down. “All’s I’m going to say is I heard some things that weren’t so nice.”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe those babies didn’t die from SIDS like everyone was saying.”

“That’s a bold statement,” he says. “Can you clarify that for us? Do you have anything to back up that claim?”

“I think I said enough.” Waving her hand at the camera, the woman turns and walks away.

The camera pans back to the podcaster, his expression puzzled and curious as he approaches another Amish woman. “Ma’am, did you know the victim?”