I rack the mike and get out. The farm appears deserted. A breeze has kicked up, rustling the leaves overhead as I start toward the front door. I knock and wait. I’ve just begun to pace, when Naomi Kaufman opens the door. “Chief Burkholder?”

The elderly woman holds the door open about a foot, looking at me through the opening. Her expression tells me she’s surprised to see me. I look past her into the kitchen, where a dozen or so green tomatoes glisten with water on a cutting board. “Is Abigail here?”

“Abby?” The woman’s brows knit. “She’s at home. I’m making food to take out there now. Why?”

“She’s not at home, Mrs. Kaufman. Are you certain she’s not here?”

Opening the door wider, she steps onto the porch. “You checked the farm? With Levi? I can’t imagine her leaving at a time like this.”

“I just left her house. Abigail took the buggy and left. I thought maybe she came here to talk to you.”

“How odd.” She gives me a perplexed look. “Abby’s not one to leave and not tell anyone. She doesn’t care much for driving the buggy, either, especially with all the traffic.”

“Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?”

“My goodness, no.” Her brows knit, and then she gives me a nod. “Why are you looking for her, Chief Burkholder?”

Several thoughts enter my mind simultaneously. First, that she hasn’t asked about her daughter’s well-being. Secondly, that she should have already been at her daughter’s farm. And last, that she’s a decent liar for an Amish woman. “Do you mind if I come inside?” I ask.

“What? You don’t believe me? You want to see for yourself that she’s not here?”

“Maybe your husband has seen her.”

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he has his physical therapy today in Wooster. For his legs, you know.” She cocks her head. “What do you want with Abigail, anyway? Has she done something wrong?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Kaufman. But I need to find her and make sure she’s all right.”

Her expression becomes concerned. “You think something’s happened to her?”

“I don’t know. Can I come inside?”

Sighing, she opens the door. “Come on.”

I brush past her and go into the living room and look around, but there’s no sign of Abigail or anyone else. The house smells of coffee and fried bacon, with the slight aroma of vinegar.

“You can look all you want, but there’s no one here.”