“I went looking for her, of course,” Levi responds.

“Alone?”

“My son and I took the buggy.” Levi sighs and shakes his head. “We took the route she would have taken, but there was no sign of her. We talked to Amos Yoder at the vegetable stand, and he said she had been there earlier and she seemed fine.”

I look at Goddard. “Is the place where we found the satchel between here and the vegetable stand?”

Goddard shakes his head. “No.”

No one says it, but that means Annie either took a different route home or got into a vehicle with someone. “What did you do next?” I ask Levi.

“I took the buggy to the bishop’s house. He has a phone. We put together a search party.” A sigh slides between his lips, as if he’s staving off an emotion he can’t afford to feel. “All of the able-bodied men and boys came out to help—some on horse back, some in buggies. Our English neighbors helped in their cars.”

“Why did you wait so long before calling the police?” Goddard asks gently.

“The Ordnung forbids our associating . . .” His words trail off. It’s as if he realizes a missing child is the one time when there’s no place for sectarian beliefs. “I thought we would find her before now.” The words come out in a harsh whisper. “If I had done over . . .”

Goddard nods understandingly.

“She didn’t have anything to eat last night.” Edna’s voice is barely discernible. “She didn’t have a bed to sleep in.”

I choose my next words carefully. “Mrs. King, you mentioned Annie gets restless. Is there a possibility she didn’t come home on purpose? Maybe there was an argument? Or she was upset about something?”

Levi shakes his head adamantly. “No. She is a good girl. She would not worry us over something like that.”

Edna remains silent, not responding. Not even with a shake of her head. There are times when silence has a voice all its own. I mentally file the information away for later, wondering if she’s privy to something her husband is not. Sometimes daughters confide in their mothers. . . .

“Have you had any problems with Annie?” I ask gently. “Has she broken the rules? Has she seemed unhappy about anything recently?”

The look that passes between them is so subtle, I almost miss it. But I know there’s something there, some scrap of information they don’t want to reveal. “We’re not here to judge you,” I tell them. “Or her.”

“We just want to find your daughter,” Tomasetti adds.

When neither of them speaks, I continue. “Look, I know that sometimes teenagers make mistakes. Even Amish teenagers.” I feel Tomasetti and Goddard watching me, but I don’t look away from Edna. “Even good girls,” I finish in Pennsylvania Dutch, purposefully excluding the two men.

After a moment, Levi nods. “Annie is very strong-willed.”