Lamb to the Slaughter (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 1) Page 25

  “What do you want to know, Sheriff?” Aaron asked quietly enough that I had to strain to hear him.

  “First of all, why is that man there on the ground your friend anyway? He represents everything that’s horrible about the outside world.”

  Aaron raised his chin for several seconds as if considering when Tony’s cracked voice, spoke up, “Go ahead an’ tell her, Aaron. It can’t do any harm now. I believe the bitch would enjoy watching me bleed to death.”

  I was as interested as Serenity was to finally learn the truth about the disturbing event in my childhood and I rose silently to stand beside her. She looked up at me for an instant, her mouth set in a grim line. But, her eyes softened, and that was enough to calm my nerves. I turned to Aaron who regarded me briefly before he faced Serenity.

  “A long time ago, a few of us passed judgment on Tony and exacted our own sense of punishment. Later, we learned that we were wrong about him, and we grieved the act of violence we did upon him.”

  “Act of violence?” Tony laughed for a couple of breaths before the pain must have been too much and he stopped. “Damn near killed me, you did.”

  “Yes. That is the truth of it, although at the time, we felt guided by the Lord in our deeds.” Aaron ignored Tony’s snort, and said, “After discovering the truth, we went to Tony and asked his forgiveness.”

  Aaron took a breath, gathering himself, but before he spoke again, Father stepped up beside him and said, “We were not expecting an English man, known for his vile language and behavior to know a thing about forgiveness. We certainly weren’t expecting anything but contempt from him.”

  James Hooley joined the other two men, his body taller and rounder than his friends, but his voice gentler. He said, “For several years, that’s exactly what we received from him—hatred. Until the day his family’s farm was being publicly auctioned by the bank in foreclosure.”

  When James took a breath, Aaron took over, saying, “You see, the lot of us who did the violence upon Tony, pooled our resources and bought the farm from the bank that day. We then handed the deed over to Tony. It was our way of making amends for our actions.

  “Tony was more than surprised. He was genuinely touched that we’d do such a thing for him and his parents. His kin had worked the earth on that very farm for nearly two hundred years. Nearly losing the property, only to have it handed back to him, softened his heart toward us. He was finally able to forgive us. On that day, we swore a blood oath that we’d be friends; always loyal to one another—and forever silent about the incident, until now.”

  An eerie quiet spread throughout the barn. It was difficult to feel the dozen or so other inhabitants within its walls. I couldn’t help speaking up, and asked, “Blood oath? What do you mean?

  Father looked at me and the others let him provide the answer. “The night that we fell upon Anthony, we spilled blood. It is not something we Amish do, but there have been times over the years, in differing communities in other places, that our people have done just that. In the name of protecting our church, our people—our ways, we’ve done what we’ve had to do. Our oath to each other and to Anthony, a young English man, was an oath taken from spilled blood, and therefore we call it a blood oath.”

  I swallowed, picturing the dried brown stuff on Father’s shirt. Yeah, I guess it was an appropriate phrase.

  Serenity’s voice sounded out of place when she said, “What the hell does any of this have to do with Naomi Beiler and her death?”

  Before Aaron could speak, Todd said, “Really, Serenity, we need to get Tony to the hospital. I’m feeling pretty damned uncomfortable with this whole business. Can’t you interrogate these men in town?”

  “No, I can’t. Keep applying pressure to the wound,” she said coldly.

  “Wounds,” Todd mumbled, under his breath.

  “Whatever,” Serenity said. Her lack of compassion bothered me. Even though I didn’t really care whether Tony Manning lived or died, it made me uncomfortable for some reason to think that the woman I was falling for felt the same way.

  Serenity stared at Aaron, flicking her gun to make her point.

  “You are like no other woman I’ve met, Ms. Adams. I am so relieved that our women aren’t born with such violent tendencies.

  I held my breath, worried what Serenity would do with the comment. To my amazement, she stood still, breathing a little harder maybe, but for the most part not showing that his words affected her.

  “You see, Tony was attempting to assist us with our own handling of the situation. At our request, he contacted you, trying to dissuade your investigation.”

  “Threatened is more like it,” Serenity grunted.

  “Well, unfortunately, Tony is still the same vile creature he’s always been. Entering a blood oath with us didn’t change his inner character. But that is beside the point.”

  “Thanks a lot, Aaron,” Tony said weakly. I couldn’t help looking over at him and feeling a pang of sympathy.

  Serenity however, wasn’t moved, and said, “Who was it that came running up behind me before jerk-face over there knocked me out?”

  Aaron became stubborn and looking at his face and the stoic expression on Father’s and James’ own faces, I figured that they’d let Tony Manning die to keep their secret. Especially, since it was to protect one of their own.

  I sighed, and said, “It was Mervin Lapp who shot Naomi.”

  All faces moved to me at once. I could feel the collective holding of everyone’s breaths. “From what I found out tonight talking to Todd’s girlfriend, young Mervin was probably on that stand at the edge of the cornfield, too tired or lazy to be out walking the way he should have been while turkey hunting. He was probably startled when he shot off into the corn. Of course, he never would have expected an Amish girl to be there in the stalks. An ill fate of timing for Naomi, I’d say.”

  Serenity turned her head to me for a second before looking again at the Amish men, never lowering her gun in the process. “Why cover it up if it was just an accident? Did the kid actually have the forethought to take Naomi’s pack and place it a half a mile away in a dried up creek bed?”

  I didn’t know the answer to that, but movement from the shadows caught my attention, and I stepped in between Serenity and the newcomer, aiming the borrowed shotgun from Todd at the man.

  “There’s no need to shoot me, Daniel. I am unarmed. I only want to tell the truth—to be rid of the unclean feeling that has been upon me for weeks.”

  I knew the voice and I lowered the gun. Damn, I was hoping that my old friend wasn’t mixed up in an accidental death cover up.

  Serenity didn’t lower her gun, and I couldn’t blame her for it. She said, “Who are you?”

  “I’m Lester Lapp. We met at the school house.” Lester turned to me and said, “I almost told you that night, my friend, but Esther wouldn’t have it. She was so worried that the outsiders would put David into an English jail, where he’d be attacked by other men.”

  Hearing the name, my mind jumped and I interrupted, saying it again, “David?”

  Lester took a deep breath, “Yes, David. It was my eldest, David, who shot Naomi in the field that night—not Mervin. Mervin was nearby though—on his way to the place he went to be alone, when he heard the shot ring out. He ran to the noise, wondering what had been bagged, and by whom. When he came to the corn, he saw Naomi lying on the ground. He was beside himself with anguish when he realized she was dying.”

  His words settled into the thick air of the barn for some seconds, before Serenity said, “So, it was David who accidentally shot Naomi?”

  The question hung in the air, but as Lester began to speak a shadow separated from the other men and came to us. He was taller than his father by an inch, but when he stepped into the dull light, I saw Lester’s face from eighteen years ago, minus the beard.

  David’s eyes squinted in contempt when he looked at Serenity and that’s when his face changed, to resemble his mother’s. The boy might have
been blessed with his father’s good looks, but he’d inherited his personality from Esther, God help him.

  David’s voice was solid, with no hint of fear or sadness, when he said, “I came here tonight to confess my sins before the church. I don’t need to tell you a thing.” He directed the last bit at Serenity.

  “I could care less about your damn idea of forgiveness, but you will eventually tell me what happened that night. I can swear that to you,” Serenity said with a deadly calm, causing a chill to sweep over me.

  I turned to Lester with pleading eyes, and he answered. “You see, it was Esther who learned the truth first. Mervin had limped the distance back to our farm after he’d seen what David had done. The boys argued about what to do, and when Mervin tried to leave, to bring word to us, David used the stalk of his gun to hit Mervin’s legs out from under him. They grappled, but the Lord was with Mervin and he somehow got the better of his older brother. Mervin managed to strike David with a rock, taking him to the ground. David laid there in the corn, not far from Naomi’s body, while Mervin came home.” Lester paused, catching his breath, before continuing. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing from my childhood friend. It was as if the world had turned upside down.

  “Esther went with the boy all the way back to the place where Naomi and David were, hoping that perhaps he was mistaken, that maybe Mervin had dreamed the whole thing.

  “But, no—what Esther found after trudging back through the fields were Naomi’s dead body and David’s unconscious one. She told me that she was terrified for our son and that’s why she took the pack and hid it. Esther hoped to erase Naomi’s identity, believing that if any Englisher found the body months later, they’d not know who she was and therefore have no one to question. It was foolish, I know, but my wife was not thinking clearly.”

  When he stopped talking, a heavy silence fell in the barn. Naomi’s shooter had been revealed and I’d finally learned what happened that night, long ago when I was a small child. I should be feeling happy, but I can’t say that I was. Instead, a strong dose of melancholy washed over me thinking about Naomi and Rachel, and how knowing the truth couldn’t bring either one of them back to the living.

  When I looked at Serenity, she was staring at David, her face scrunched up in concentration. She stepped closer to the young man, and whispered, “Why’d you kill her, David? Why would you do such a thing?”

  David’s cruel laugh wiped the depression from my soul, replacing it with a fire that burned brightly for justice to be done on the young man, who clearly had no regret whatsoever for the girl he had killed.

  “She deserved what she got, she did. The way she always ignored me, like I wasn’t good enough for her, even though I tried real hard to receive her favor. No, she picked Eli, ‘cause he was confident and full of himself—the young man with the most prospects. When it didn’t work out between them, hope came alive within me, that she’d have me then. But no—she picked an Englisher instead.”

  “How did you find yourself at the edge of the field waiting for her? How could you possibly have known that she was running away and going in that direction?” I asked. My mind raced, still shocked that David had purposely killed Naomi, and trying to put the last puzzle piece into place.

  David turned to me, as if noticing my presence for the first time. His eyes widened and a grin touched his mouth that told me clearly that the young man had serious mental issues.

  “Why, Sandra told me. She told me everything.” He looked between me and Serenity, before his eyes landed on his bishop. By the look on Aaron’s face, I knew that this was the first time he was hearing this part of the story as well. It hit me with sudden force that the Amish in the barn, including my father, had believed that Mervin had accidently killed Naomi—something they were all willing to cover up for the salvation of one of their own. But now, surveying the looks of shock, disgust, and down-right anger, I breathed in relief that they weren’t in on a murder cover up. The implications would have been far reaching into the entire community of course, but even more so, I didn’t want to believe that any of these people would condone such abhorrent behavior.

  David went on, everyone waiting anxiously to hear each and every word he said. “You see, I’d been flirting with Sandra, getting her to trust me. She’d tell me things about Naomi. When she learned that Naomi was running away, she came to me, hoping that I could stop Naomi, make her see reason. But what Sandra hadn’t counted on was that I’d decided a while ago that Naomi didn’t deserve to live. She was a sinner, rolling in the grass with Eli and then throwing herself at the English driver.” David ignored my father’s sharp intake of breath, and plowed on. “I took up my position on the stand, and waited for her.”

  David’s eyes went somewhere else and his voice became distant, when he said, “I’ve killed many animals, but I always wondered whether a person would die the same way.” His eyes cleared and met mine briefly, before settling on Serenity. “They do.”

  Serenity raised her gun, aiming at David. She said, “Make the call, Todd.”

  Before Todd even got the radio turned on, the Amish men had surrounded David, the smooth flow of their movements silently pushing us to the side. Lester backed up, away from the group, his head bowed. The pity I felt for the man, my friend, was almost too much to hold in, but I didn’t go to him. Instead, I stayed with Serenity, glancing down into her wide eyes. I could see the indecision there, but it was her decision, not mine. She’d been right all along about Naomi. The poor girl had been murdered. And, the Amish had concealed the truth, although, even they didn’t know the extent of it.

  Serenity’s head whipped back toward the Amish group that had tightened even more around David, and then landed on Lester when she said, “I need to talk to your other son. Where is he?”

  I knew it was her way of distracting the Amish from their business, while not having to arrest them all either.

  Heads within the crowd began moving around sluggishly, as Mervin’s name was called out repeatedly. After a minute, Father came to stand beside me, quietly saying, “He was here to tell us what happened that dreadful night—but he is gone now.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” Serenity’s words echoed my thoughts exactly.

  39

  SERENITY

  November 19th

  The bright, early morning sun shone through the car windows making the world feel warm and fresh again. I glanced at Daniel and wondered what was going on in his head. We hadn’t spoken but a few words since we’d left the old barn. He was staring out the window at the passing Amish homesteads and my eyes couldn’t help being drawn to them also, with all their quaintness. But, now, I knew better. The Blood Rock Amish community was anything but picturesque under its pretty facade.

  It still boggled my mind what had gone down the night before. When I had snuck up to the barn, I’d honestly believed that the most excitement I’d have was perhaps overhearing some information that would crack the Naomi Beiler case open. I certainly hadn’t anticipated being attacked by Tony Manning and subsequently held hostage while the old Amish coots worked out their problems and attempted to justify their actions.

  Deep down, the fact that Tony would probably survive grated my nerves. He’d forever be a thorn in my backside as long as I was sheriff in this town. The part of it all that I still couldn’t understand was why so many people, including the uppity Amish, would call him friend. And the craziness of the whole incident was going to be brutal when Todd and I began filling out the paper work. Lucky for me, this was small town America, and I’d already learned that fudging the truth for the better good of the local people was well enough accepted. It still would be a pain in the butt though.

  I glanced again at Daniel’s still frame, only to look away quickly when the fluttering of butterflies spread in my belly. When I saw the man, it was as if I was a hormonal teenager all over again. I really hated the feeling. Falling for an unattainable object really sucked—and Daniel fell into that category. H
e was too good looking and cocky for his own good. And, even more importantly, he was a known womanizer. The last thing I needed was that kind of heartache.

  “Hey, slow down. You’re going to miss the turn,” Daniel said loudly.

  I pressed the brakes and turned into the Lapp’s winding driveway, glad that the man sitting beside me had no clue about what I was thinking.

  “You must be relieved to finally know the truth about what happened to Naomi,” Daniel said frankly. After I parked and shut off the ignition, I sighed and faced him.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like I expected it to though.”

  Daniel nodded. He smiled sadly and met my gaze. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Since he was turned toward me and was seemingly in no hurry to exit the car, I relaxed for the first time in hours, and said, “It’s just so sad everything that Naomi had to go through, and then when she was almost away, she’s shot dead by a jealous Amish teen. Who could have blamed her for ignoring him, the kid’s a mental case. Life really did her a bad turn.”

  “It would seem so. But, in a way, when she made up her mind about leaving, she experienced the freedom that so many young Amish people never do. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it would have been worth it,” Daniel said quietly, staring at my hand that was resting on the seat between us. I thought he wanted to reach out and touch me, but he was holding back. I turned away, knowing that I didn’t have the nerve to make the first move.

  “It sounds as if you talk from experience.”

  “It was the most difficult decision I ever made. And sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d stayed Amish. But then, I wouldn’t trade my freedom for anything now.”

  “Oh, I can tell you what your life would have been like—an obedient wife at your side, ten kids running around, a huge farm to tend…and the occasional creepy meeting in a dark barn.”