I run with it. “Maybe the bishop told Smucker and Yoder to stop her. They accost her in the middle of the night, the same way they did me. Drag her out of bed. Take her into the woods. Maybe they didn’t intentionally kill her, but something happened and the situation spiraled out of control. Maybe she got away, ran into the woods and ended up dying of hypothermia.”

“Viable,” he admits.

I think about the female passengers on the snowmobiles. “What if there’s something else going on? Something … I don’t know, bigger? What if Rachel figured it out and became a threat?”

“Something like what?”

“I don’t know. But there’s something going on. We have Amish men on snowmobiles. Foreign women being held against their will. Assault. Allegations of sexual abuse. Drugs. That’s not to mention the level of intimidation.”

“That place is beginning to sound more like a damn cult than an Amish settlement,” he grumbles.

It was an offhand statement. But something pings in my head at the usage of a word that hadn’t yet occurred to me. “You’re right,” I say slowly.

“Oh, shit,” he mutters.

“It fits.” I’m still trying to settle the word in my head. Cult. “If he’s controlling people through intimidation…” I think about Abe and Mary Gingerich. Laura Hershberger at The Calico Country Store. The ugly allegations against Schrock. “One of the things that struck me right away is the level of devotion to Schrock. Some of these people speak of him as if he’s God. And yet those same people are careful about what they say.”

“They’re afraid of him.”

I remind him of the Amish man in the kitchen at The Dutch Kitchen and for the first time Mary’s level of paranoia makes sense. “He was listening. Probably reporting back to Schrock. That’s why they cut off Abe’s finger.”

“Kate, I’m no expert, but there’s a specific criteria used to identify cults. Let me get with Betancourt. See if we can get an expert involved.” He sighs unhappily. “So what’s next?”

“I want to talk to Rachel’s best friend. Marie Weaver. So far she’s been pretty hostile. I want to try again. I think there’s something there. Mary Gingerich’s daughter told me Marie had been locked in the chicken coop.”

“Weaver works at Huston’s Restaurant afternoons, so you might catch her there.” He rattles off an address.

I write it down. “I’m going to approach Rebecca Beiler, too. She’s not happy with Schrock, so maybe she’ll open up or tell me what happened with her finger.”

“She and her husband live on a dairy farm south of Roaring Springs.” Computer keys click and then he confirms the address I already have.

“I’ve yet to meet the parents of Rachel Esh, but I’ll keep trying.”

“They’re not real forthcoming.”