“Rebecca wants to leave Roaring Springs,” she tells me. “She wants to go back to her old church district in Ohio. The bishop asked her and Levi to stay, but I don’t think they will. Honestly, I don’t blame her. With her grandchildren and children gone.”

“They left?”

“Rebecca’s son and daughter-in-law, Big Andy and Irene, packed up and left in the middle of the night shortly after it happened. Took the girls with them. Left without a word. Didn’t even tell Rebecca. Poor woman didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye.”

I put the names to memory so Suggs can run them through the various law enforcement databases. In the back of my mind, I’m wondering how Rebecca’s missing digit fits into all this.

“Where did they go?” I ask.

“Shipshewana, Indiana, I think.”

“What about the grandson?” I ask.

Though the shop is locked down tight, the blinds pulled, her eyes flick toward the front of the store, as if she’s expecting someone to come through the door. I find my own gaze following hers, the hairs at my nape standing on end.

“Little Andy never came back,” she whispers.

“What? But … where did he go?”

“Evidently, the bishop sent the boy to another church district in Missouri to help an elderly couple whose family was killed in a buggy accident.”

Suspicion creeps over me, as cold and hard as January ice spreading over the surface of a pond. “Without speaking to his parents? I mean, did the boy want to go? Did he volunteer?”

“No one knows. And no one’s talking.”

“Did Rebecca confront the bishop?” I ask.

“She’s not one to take things sitting down.” The smile that follows is humorless and tight. “She’s a strong-willed woman and isn’t afraid to speak her mind. I don’t know everything that was said, but there’s bad blood between them now.”

Around us the shop is eerily silent. The only sound is the occasional hiss of tires on Main Street. The rattle of heat coming from the vent overhead.

“Laura,” I whisper, “did the bishop do something bad to the children?”

The words hover, like the smell of something long dead that neither of us wants to acknowledge. She stares at me, anguish and fear etched into her features. “I can’t imagine, Kate. I mean, he’s the bishop.”

“He’s a mortal man,” I tell her. “A human being with weaknesses just like the rest of us. Maybe more, from what I’ve heard.”

“I think I’ve said enough.”

She starts to rise, but I reach out and set my hand on her arm. “Laura, did the bishop have something to do with what happened to Rebecca’s hand?”