“I’m fine.” Quickly, I summarize the scene in Eli Schrock’s barn. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

“Just when I thought nothing could surprise me.” He makes a sound that’s part groan, part sigh. “How badly was he injured?”

“They marked him up badly. He was conscious, but he could barely walk.” I consider that a moment. “Dan, if Schrock hadn’t stopped when he did, the guy could have gone into shock or worse.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No. But he’s Amish. Forty years old. Had a full beard, so he’s married.”

“You witness Schrock beating him?”

“Yes.”

He pauses. “That’s it. We’re pulling you out. Get your things packed.”

“We still don’t know who—if anyone—was involved in Rachel Esh’s death. And we still don’t know what the hell’s going on over there at Schrock’s place.”

“We’ve got him on felony assault. I want you out of there so that’s going to have to do.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Kate, damn it—”

“Give me until morning.”

He says nothing.

“If you call it now,” I tell him, “all this will have been for nothing.”

“Felony assault—”

“I was there without a warrant. A defense lawyer will tear that to shreds and you know it.”

He sighs and I sense him calming down, getting ready to acquiesce.

“There’s more.” Quickly, I tell him about the note. “Give me an hour to check it out. When I get back, I’ll pack and you can pick me up in the morning.”

“Any idea who might’ve left the note?”

“No, but it wasn’t Schrock. It wasn’t Yoder or Smucker. I had eyes on them.”

“Could be a trap.”

“Or a break in the case,” I tell him. “Someone knows what’s going on and wants it to end.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Finally, I say, “I thought I’d bundle up and hang out in the woods north of the trailer for a while. See what happens.”

“You know there aren’t many roads up that way. Not a whole lot of anything except trees. If something goes wrong and we need to get there quick…” He makes a tight, unhappy sound. “Look, the only way I’ll give you my blessing on this is if I can park a deputy off that two track that runs north off Swamp Creek Road. There’s a little turnaround that goes into the woods.”

“I know it,” I tell him. “It’s about a quarter mile down the road from Schrock’s place.”

“You comfortable with that?”

“You’re not worried about me, are you?”

He’s not amused. “Just do me a favor and call me half an hour before you walk up there. Don’t stay any longer than an hour, and call me the instant you get back to the trailer.”

“You got it.”