She laughs. “Gotcha.” We fall silent and then she adds, “You know, Chief, a pregnant belly isn’t exactly an easy thing to hide.”

I consider that for a moment. “But not impossible,” I say. “Loose clothing. Minimal weight gain. A lack of suspicion by friends and family members. I suspect it happens more often than we think.”

“I’ll get the press release out immediately, Chief.”

“Thanks.”

The Care Cottage Birthing Center is located off the highway between Painters Mill and the Coshocton County line to the south. The facility is managed by several certified Amish midwives with a local ob-gyn on call. Local Amish women have been having babies here for as long as I can remember.

The birthing center is housed in a circa-1950s bungalow to which a drive-through portico has been constructed so buggies can pull up directly to the front door in inclement weather. There are two buggies in the parking lot, the horses still hitched, and a white van parked at the side. On the west side, there are two horse pens with a divided loafing shed and a big aluminum watering trough in case the father-to-be needs to spend the night. I park beneath the shade of a maple tree bursting with fall color and take the wide steps to the front door.

The interior of Care Cottage is homey and warm and welcoming. Instead of the medicinal odors I’d anticipated, the place smells of cinnamon and clean linens. The door opens to a large waiting area that looks more like an Amish living room. There’s a blue sofa set against the wall and bracketed on either side by vintage end tables. A bay window with lace curtains looks out over a field where the corn has already been cut and bundled. A slightly-battered coffee table is covered with magazines, inspirational books and Es Nei Teshtament, a Bible translated into Pennsylvania Dutch. Next to a recliner, a toy box full of wooden Amish-crafted toys—tops and a little dog on wheels that can be pulled with a string—invites fidgety youngsters to play while mamm is seeing the midwife.

An elderly Mennonite woman wearing a green print dress and small organdy head covering stands at the reception counter, her arthritis-bent fingers pecking at a computer keyboard. Her name tag tells me her name is Ruth and she’s a volunteer.

“Hello,” I say as I cross to the counter.

She glances up from her work and startles a little at the sight of my uniform. “Oh. Hello there.” She chuckles. “Didn’t expect to see a woman policeman.”

I introduce myself. “I’m working on a case and was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me.”

“I will if I can,” she says. “Can’t imagine what would bring a policeman to a birthing center, though.”

I give her the rundown on Baby Doe and take her through the same series of questions I asked the RN at the hospital.

“I’m sure you know the majority of our clientele here at Care Cottage are Amish,” she tells me. “We’ve had several Englischer women in the last few months; most were interested in a more natural birthing process. And of course we’re more affordable here than a typical hospital.” Her mouth tightens and she gives a nod. “The birth of a baby is usually a happy occasion.”