For the span of several heartbeats, all I can do is stare while my mind scrambles to make sense of what I see. It’s the same brand Sadie was smoking that day on the bridge. What are the odds of an Amish couple having a pack of clove cigarettes in their trash? The same obscure brand that a missing girl was known to smoke?

I pull out my phone and dial Tomasetti. “I think I have something,” I say by way of greeting.

“Lay it on me.”

I tell him about the cigarettes. “Sadie Miller smoked the same brand.”

“Where are the Masts?”

“There’s no one here.”

We fall silent, and I know he’s running this new information through his brain, seeking that elusive connection that will make everything click. “Tomasetti, I think they might be involved.”

“Kate, another kid went missing last night,” he tells me. “A boy. Sixteen years old.”

“Shit,” I mutter. “Where?”

“Alexandria. About fifty miles north of here.”

“Amish?”

“Yeah.”

“Troubled?”

“He’s had a couple of scrapes with the law. We’re still gathering information.”

“He fits the pattern,” I hear myself say.

“Get out of there.” He says the words easily, as if they are a suggestion that has just occurred to him. But I sense he’s worried about my being here alone. “I’ll get started on a warrant.”

A clap of thunder makes me jump. “Look, the sky’s getting ready to open up.” I start toward the Explorer. “I’ll give you a call from the sheriff’s office.”

“Be careful.”

“You know it,” I say, but he’s already disconnected.

Smiling, I shake my head. “Tomasetti,” I mutter, and reach for the door handle. I’m sliding behind the wheel, stabbing the key into the ignition when I notice the door to the slaughter shed is standing open.

CHAPTER 19

For an instant, I can’t believe my eyes. I walked past the slaughter shed on my way to the barn when I arrived, and I’m certain the door was closed. Had it been open, I would have noticed. Of course, it’s possible the wind blew it open, but I don’t think so.

So how did the door get open?

“Only one way to find out,” I mutter as I get out of the Explorer. I stand beside the vehicle for a moment and scan the area. Aside from the wind, everything is silent and deserted. But I can’t shake the prickly sensation between my shoulder blades.

My senses rev into hyperalert as I start toward the shed. I’m still holding my cell phone in my left hand. I’m aware of the holster beneath my jacket pressing reassuringly against my ribs.