Three hours later I’m sitting on a gurney in the emergency department of Alice Hyde Hospital in Malone, my legs sticking out of a worn hospital gown that refuses to remain closed in the back. Upon my arrival—and thanks to Suggs’s position as sheriff—I was immediately wheeled into an exam cubicle and assessed by the on-call physician. Once my vitals were taken and deemed normal, three vials of blood were drawn. As a precautionary measure, I was given an intramuscular injection of Naloxone, which, I was informed, is a routine treatment for an opiate overdose. It’s a safe medication and has no side effects if, in fact, I did not ingest an opiate narcotic. The blood tox screen will tell all in a few days.

“Knock, knock,” comes Suggs’s voice from the other side of the privacy curtain.

I reach for the sheet lying across the head of the gurney, snap it open, and cover my legs. “I’m here.”

The curtain is shoved aside and the sheriff peeks in. “How you feeling?” he asks.

“I think they’re about to spring me.”

“You gave me a hell of a scare,” he growls. “I guess it’s safe to say you don’t have any qualms about putting yourself in the line of fire.”

“If you want the honey, you’ve got to poke the hive,” I return.

“What did the doc say?”

“Schrock may have dropped some type of opiate into the coffee he gave me. Doc says I probably didn’t ingest much. They sent my blood to the lab for a tox.”

“Anything turns up and we’ll nail him to the wall with it.”

“Felony assault might earn him a few years.” I look at Suggs. “I think he’s guilty of worse.”

He cocks his head, curiosity sharp in his eyes. “So what happened?”

I tell him about Yoder coming to my trailer with a summons from the bishop. “Initially, Schrock was on his best behavior. Once he gave me that coffee, the situation got strange. He began saying things an Amish bishop would never say. Had I been a civilian, there’s no doubt it would have culminated into something else.”

He makes a sound low in his throat. “Fucking charlatan.”

“Dan, this guy’s a predator. He’s preying on these people. He’s in a position of power and he’s using it to manipulate the people who believe in him.” I recall the sensation of his finger as he traced it over my palm and suppress a shiver. “He’s no bishop, and we’re not dealing with a typical Amish community.”

“Look, Kate, I think this gig just got a hell of a lot more dicey. Maybe we ought to end it now. We’ll wait for the tox. Get a warrant. And we’ll settle for what we can get as far as charges—”

“I want to finish this.”