Page 110 of A Gathering of Secrets

I think about that a moment. “I’ll call you.”

“You know where to find me.”

CHAPTER 25

The Mercantile doesn’t open until nine A.M., but when I roll into the parking lot a little after eight, I spot Neva Lambright’s car parked between the burned-out shell of the round barn and the shop. I pull up behind her car and call Tomasetti.

He picks up on the first ring. “You there?” he asks.

“Yup.”

“I’m twenty minutes away.”

“See you then.”

I disconnect and sit there a moment, trying to get a handle on my emotions, not quite succeeding. It’s not until I get out of the Explorer that I spot Viola inside the barn. She’s standing next to the foundation with her back to me. As I draw closer, I see the other two girls standing together on what’s left of the steps. Neva has lowered her face into her hands. Ina stands next to her as if she’s at a complete loss on how to help or comfort her.

Sighing, I step into the building. “Good morning,” I say as I enter.

Viola and Ina spin toward me, their expressions surprised. Neva raises her face from her hands, blinks upon recognizing me, and swipes at the tears with her fingertips.

“Hi, Chief Burkholder,” says Ina.

“Didn’t expect to see you here this morning,” Viola adds.

I stand just inside the building and look from girl to girl, my gaze lingering on Neva. Her face is blotchy and red, her eyes anguished. There’s so much misery there. But there’s guilt, too. Bang gvissa, I think, and I feel that same grief and guilt pressing down on me, expanding in my chest.

“You’re not here to buy something else for your sister, are you?” Viola asks.

“Actually, I’m here to see the three of you.” I make my way more deeply into the barn and look around. The stink of charred wood and wet earth hovers. The girls stand about ten feet away. They’ve fallen quiet, watching me, wondering why I’m here.

“This place looks different with all that sunlight streaming in,” I say.

“Datt says it’s not a complete loss,” Neva says solemnly. “He talked to the contractor yesterday. Mr. Graber says he can shore up the roof and the walls. It’s going to take some work. Probably cost a pretty penny, too. But we’re not going to lose it.”

“That’s good news,” I say.

“Mr. Lambright told us the café is still a go,” Ina proclaims.

Neva clasps her hands in front of her and looks down at the ground. “We’re going to call it Edna’s. After Mamm.”

“She would have liked that.” I walk the perimeter of the room, taking in the damage, thinking too much, feeling so much more. Most of the roof is gone. The siding will need to be replaced. The foundation will have to be repaired.

The girls watch me. I sense their curiosity and apprehension. Still, I take the time to circle the room. I stop when I reach them. “I think the café is going to have to wait awhile.”

Looks are exchanged, but no one speaks. It’s so quiet I can hear the traffic on the road in front of the shop. The moan of the wind as it eases through the rafters above.

“So much of life is about the decisions we make.” I say the words to no one in particular, struggling to find my way through the tangled jungle of emotion I don’t want to feel. “I’ve made my share of bad ones. I live with them every day. What do you do when there’s no way to make it right?”

Viola takes a step back, presses her hand against her stomach. She knows, I think. Ina stares at me, eyes wide, her mouth partially open. Neva raises her gaze to mine. In the depths of her eyes I see all the things I don’t want to see. Realization. Comprehension. A sense of betrayal. And fear.

“I need to talk to you about Daniel Gingerich,” I tell them.

“We’ve already talked to you about him,” Neva says.

“We don’t know anything.” This, from Viola.

“I always wondered,” I say slowly. “What kind of killer lets the livestock out of the barn to keep them safe?”