“My poor brother. He was such a good kid. But kind of a lost soul, you know?” Putting her hands on her hips, she sighs. “I guess the good news is we know where he is now. He’s no longer lost. At least now we can give him a decent burial.”

“I know it was a long time ago, Rachel, but I was wondering if you could answer a few questions. I’m trying to piece together his final days and figure out what happened to him.”

Her eyes sharpen on mine. They’re an interesting shade of green and made up prettily with eye makeup. “Are you saying his death wasn’t an accident?”

“The coroner hasn’t ruled on cause or manner of death yet. In fact, we may never know for certain.”

“If it was an accident, you wouldn’t be here, though, would you?”

I don’t respond.

We spend twenty minutes going through the same questions I posed to his parents and his former best friend, but Rachel is unable to offer much in the way of new information.

“Do you know if he was seeing anyone?” I ask. “Did he have a girlfriend?”

Her eyes brighten. “I wouldn’t have thought of it if you hadn’t asked, but I do remember him seeing a girl. In fact, I walked up on them smooching in the woods across the street from our house, you know, before the grocery store was built. I don’t know who was more embarrassed, him or her or me.”

“What was her name?”

“I don’t know. Leroy got all flustered and angry and just sort of shooed me away. But let me tell you, for a nine-year-old girl, I got an eyeful.” Her thoughts seem to turn inward and she smiles. “I’d never seen two people kiss like that before. And I’d never seen my brother look at anyone the way he looked at that girl.”

“What way is that?”

She pulls herself back to the present and nods her head. “Like they were in love. Big time.”

“You have no idea who she was?”

“If it’s any help, she was Amish.”

It’s the last thing I expected her to say, and my curiosity surges. “Are you sure?”

“Not positive, but pretty sure. We’re Mennonite, you know. Mom and Dad left the Swartzentruber Amish when they were young. Right after they were married, I think. Mom still dressed plainly back when I was a kid. In an Old Order Mennonite kind of way.” She smiles. “But I remember looking at that girl’s dress and kapp and thinking how different it was than my mom’s. So, yes, she was Amish.”

*   *   *