Our shoes are muted against the plank floor as we start toward the back. There’s no chatter of female conversation this afternoon. No sound of laughter. Not even the sharp tone of a lively debate. News travels fast in the Amish community; more than likely, the women have heard what happened at Schrock’s compound last night and they’re still absorbing the shock of it. I imagine the day has been rife with emotion as they deal with the ensuing disbelief and disappointment.

Pleasure flickers high in my chest when I see the women sitting at the sewing table—Laura Hershberger, Lena, Naomi, and Ada—and I’m glad I took the time to bid my Amish friends farewell.

My chair, of course, is vacant. Someone has placed a stuffed teddy bear on Rebecca’s. The lovely tulip basket pattern quilt is spread out on the table before them, all hands busy with the requisite seven stitches per inch.

“Hello, ladies,” I say to them. “Wie geth’s alleweil?” How goes it now?

“Kate! Oh my goodness!” Laura takes the time to finish a stitch before looking up. “We’ve been wondering—” Her words end abruptly as she takes my measure: Jeans. Leather knee boots. Black puffy coat. Purple scarf.

Slowly, she rises. “Kate?”

Naomi does a double take, a sound of surprise escapes her. “Oh!”

Lena seems to be frozen in her chair, eyes wide, her hand pressed protectively over her belly. “Was der is kshicht?” What’s happening?

“We heard you were caught up in all that mess at the bishop’s farm,” Laura says.

“The police wouldn’t tell us anything,” Ada puts in.

“The story in The Bridge said there were bad goings on out at Bishop Schrock’s barn,” Naomi adds in a subdued voice.

“That the sheriff was killed,” Lena puts in.

“Can’t hardly believe any of it.” Laura crosses to me and throws her arms around me. “I’m glad you’re okay. We’ve been worried.”

“Me too. Thank you.” I hug her back. She smells like lavender soap and I let my arms linger around her a beat too long. “I couldn’t leave without…” I’m not sure how to finish the sentence so I let the words trail.

“What is this?” Naomi gestures at my clothes. “You’re leaving the plain life?”

“I haven’t been Amish for a long time,” I tell her.

The four women fall silent.

“I don’t understand,” Laura says.

“I’m a police officer.” I give them the condensed version of my assignment. “After Rachel Esh died, the local police became worried about the children. There were a lot of rumors. I traveled here from Ohio to see if I could find out what was going on.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Lena says when I’m finished.

Laura shushes her. “So you’re not Kate Miller from Ohio…”