Page 42 of Shamed

The woman stares at me as if I’ve asked her about the weather or some recipe that has nothing whatsoever to do with the crisis at hand. “Aunt Marlene passed away years ago. I don’t see what she has to do with any of this.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s relevant and what’s not?” I say firmly.

She seems to sink more deeply into the chair, looks down at her hands in her lap. “I met Marlene once or twice when I was a girl. She was … a delicate thing. Didn’t come around much.”

“Delicate?” I ask. “You mean physically?”

“That was my general impression.”

“Did Marlene have kids?”

“Not that I know of.”

“What was your aunt’s last name?”

“Her maiden name was Byler, of course, same as Mamm’s. If she ever got married…” She shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Do you have any idea where she used to live?”

“I don’t know. I told you. I don’t know!” She struggles to her feet, staggers, grabs hold of the table.

I reach out to steady her, wondering if she’s eaten or slept, but she draws her arm away. “If you really want to find my little girl, Kate Burkholder, I suggest you stop asking all these foolish questions and get out there and look for her.”

I call Lois on the way to Pomerene Hospital. “I need you to dig up everything you can find on every member of the Helmuth family. There may not be much out there, since they’re Amish. But … I need for you to dig around a little, see if anything pops.”

“Can you give a hint what I’m looking for?”

“Anything to do with children. Deaths in the family. Marriages. Divorces.” I think about that a moment. “I’ve got Mona looking at Miriam’s sister, Marlene. She’s deceased, but I have a last name: Byler. Tell Mona to take look, see if there’s anything out there. Lois, I want you to take a look at the midwife, Martha Hershberger, too. Check to see if Hershberger has any problems with her certifications.”

“I’ll get right on it.” She pauses. “Oh, before I forget, that courier package from Holmes County General Health District came for you.”

Copies of the birth certificates. “Put it on my desk, will you?”

“You got it.”

I end the call as I slide into a parking space near the Emergency entrance. I’m distracted, thinking about Miriam Helmuth as I go through the double glass doors and take the elevator to the basement. What the hell aren’t you telling me? I simply can’t fathom why a mother would withhold information from the police when her little girl is missing and in danger. What secret is worth jeopardizing the life of your child?

The question pounds at my brain as I enter the reception area of the morgue.

“Hi, Chief.”

I look up to see Doc Coblentz’s administrative assistant rise to greet me. “Hey, Carmen.”

“I saw the Amber alert on my phone.” She extends her hand and we shake. “Any luck?”

“We’re pulling out all the stops.” I let my eyes slide toward the doors that will take me to the medical side of the morgue. “He in there?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

I barely notice the smell of formalin that rides the air as I pass through the doors. The autopsy room is ahead. The niche where the biohazard protective gear is stored is to my right. Left is Doc Coblentz’s glassed-in office. The mini blinds facing the hall are open. Inside, Doc and a second man clad in royal-blue scrubs are staring at the laptop on his desk.

“Kate.”

Doc Coblentz is a corpulent man, about my height, with a balding pate and bushy salt-and-pepper brows. This morning, he’s wearing his usual hunter-green scrubs with high-end sneakers and a blue apron that ties in the back.

He looks at me a little too closely as he offers his hand for a shake. “Looking a little worse for wear this morning,” he tells me.

I frown, hoping it looks more good-natured than it feels. “Long night,” I murmur. “Sorry I’m late.”