I look up from the photo. “What kind of problems?”

“I don’t really have an ear into the Amish community, so most of this is hearsay, but from what the sheriff down there told me, Schrock thought the bishop was too soft when it came to enforcing the rules. There was some disagreement on the issue of excommunication. He pissed off some people and ended up on the wrong side of the bishop. A feud of sorts started. Evidently, Schrock isn’t a very compromising individual and eventually left for New York. A few Amish families followed him. According to scuttlebutt, other Amish with similar beliefs came up from Ohio and as far away as Indiana. At some point he began calling himself bishop.”

“Has he had any issues with neighbors since arriving?” I ask. “Any disputes? Things like that?”

“Neighbor to the north isn’t Amish, so Schrock doesn’t speak to him. To his east is an Amish family that’s pretty much part of the community.” Betancourt passes me a satellite image map of Roaring Springs and the surrounding area. “The eight hundred acres owned by Schrock are highlighted in yellow. Highways are marked in red. Lesser roads in blue.”

“Schrock’s place is off Highway 30 near Constable.” Leaning closer, Suggs runs a stubby finger along the marked road. “You go north on Lucas Road and there’s a two track that’ll take you into the community.”

“I looked at aerials last night and familiarized myself with the area.” A sleepless night spent studying and memorizing maps.

Suggs nods. “That whole area to the north is a jigsaw puzzle of dirt roads and two tracks with a couple of good size creeks and ravines.”

“There are some other players involved.” Betancourt nods at Suggs.

The sheriff slides a second sheet of paper toward me. “This is everything I could find on the family Rachel Esh was living with when she died.”

The information is sparse. Abe and Mary Gingerich. Forty-six and forty-three, respectively. They live in a house outside Roaring Springs, not far from Schrock’s land. Four children are grown and out of the house. Special needs girl still at home. Fifteen-year-old Anna. Abe’s occupation is listed as a farmer. Mary works part-time at a restaurant in town called The Dutch Kitchen.

I raise my gaze to Suggs. “Any idea why Rachel Esh was living with this couple instead of her parents?”

“The Gingeriches told me she was staying with them to help with Anna, the special needs girl. That’s not the whole story. When I talked to her parents, Fannie and Samuel Esh, they let on that they were having some problems with her.”

“What kind of problems?”

“They backtracked, but I got the impression she was acting out somehow. I tried, but couldn’t get much more out of them.”

“I’ll try to make contact with them, but it might be tough with them grieving.”

“They live on a farm six miles south of the settlement.” Another sheet of paper comes my way. “Address is there, along with some info on her best friend.”