Page 77 of A Gathering of Secrets

“Why didn’t you tell me you went to the singing with Ruth Petersheim the night she met up with Daniel Gingerich?” I ask as I take the chair opposite her.

Her shoulders stiffen. A subtle quiver moves through her body. If I hadn’t been watching her for a reaction, I would have missed it. She tries to cover her discomfiture by choosing a candy bar from the wicker basket and dropping a dollar bill into the mix.

After a moment, she shrugs. “I didn’t think it was important.”

I let the statement hang. Both of us know it’s not true. She’s doing her best not to look uncomfortable, but she’s not pulling it off.

“How well do you know Ruth?” I ask.

“I’ve known her since I was a kid, but we were never close.”

“You rode together the night of the singing at the Schwartz place?”

“Yes.”

“Did anything unusual happen that evening, Neva?”

She concentrates on the candy bar in her hands, takes a moment to peel off the wrapper. “Not that I know of.”

“Who did Ruth ride home with?”

A too-long pause and then Neva raises her gaze to mine. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie, Chief Burkholder. I just didn’t realize it was important.”

“It’s called lying by omission, Neva. I asked you specifically about Daniel Gingerich and you didn’t see fit to tell me about that night?”

She narrows her eyes, cocks her head. “Did something happen to Ruthie?”

“You tell me.”

She stares at me for a long time and then shakes her head. “If something happened to her, she never mentioned it. That’s the truth.”

“Did you hear any rumors? Anything like that?”

She shakes her head. “If I’d heard something, I would have told you. Especially after what happened to Emma. I’ve no reason to hold anything back.”

I stare at her, looking for a lie or half truth, some sign of deception. I see none of those things.

“Is there anything else I need to know about?” I ask.

Her brows go together and she considers the question for the span of several heartbeats. Finally, as if she’s come to some important conclusion, she gives a firm nod. “I think that’s about it.”

CHAPTER 18

After leaving The Mercantile, I head north toward Wilmot. I’ve just pulled onto the highway when my cell phone chimes. I glance at the display to see HOLMES CNTY SHERIFF and I snatch it up before the second ring.

“Kate, it’s Mike Rasmussen. How’s the arm?”

“An ID on the shooter would go a long way toward easing the pain,” I tell him.

“Wish I could oblige. I figured you’d want an update, good or bad. I got a little of both.”

“Lay it on me.”

“We retrieved four cartridges at the scene.”