The office is small and cluttered, with a single window that looks out over a cherry tree. A plump Amish woman of about forty sits behind a wooden desk, clutching a number 2 pencil as she transfers numbers from a form onto a columnar pad, her concentration intent. When the door clicks shut, she looks up and smiles briefly. I know it the instant she recognizes us as cops. Her hand stills. The smile freezes on her lips.

Her gaze goes to her husband and she slowly rises. “Is it Bonnie?” she asks hopefully.

Eli shakes his head. “They have questions for us.”

The woman seems to sink into herself. The hope that had lit her eyes just seconds before goes dark.

“I’m Kate Burkholder.” I cross to her, extend my hand. “We’re sorry to bother you on such a busy day.”

“I’m Suzy.” She returns the shake, but her hand is clammy and limp, as if the life has been drained from her.

“You have a very nice workshop,” I tell her. “And some lovely things.”

“The Lord has blessed us with much work.”

I note the Rolodex on her desk and the wooden antique card files behind her. “I see you have a state-of-the-art computer system.”

I’m speaking ironically, of course. While some of the younger Amish might sneak a cell phone and partake in texting or listen to music, the adults who have been baptized do not utilize any kind of electronic gadgetry.

The woman offers a weak smile. “It contains the names and addresses of every wholesale customer we’ve had since Eli’s grandfather sold his first bread box seventy-six years ago.”

Suzy lowers her eyes to the desktop, sets her hand over her mouth, and closes her eyes tightly. “We pray every day for her safe return,” she whispers.

To my right, Eli rounds the desk and comes up behind his wife, sets his hand on her shoulder. “What is it you want to know?” he asks us.

Tomasetti and I read the file before driving over. We know the particulars of the case: when Bonnie went missing, where she was last seen, who searched for her, whom she was last seen with, who was questioned. The local PD interviewed her friends and family. What we’re looking for today are any details that, for what ever reason, either weren’t included in the reports or that her parents failed to mention.

“In the weeks and days before Bonnie disappeared, what was her frame of mind?” I ask.

If my line of questioning surprises him, Eli doesn’t show it. “She was fine,” he tells me. “The same as always.”

I look at Suzy. “Was she troubled by anything? Was she having problems with any of her friends?”

The woman meets my gaze, shakes her head. “She is a happy girl. Looking forward to helping teach the little ones in the fall.”

“Does she have a beau?”