I almost smile when William looks down at his food and concedes to his wife. Alma turns her attention to me. “I have fried ham with vegetables and bread. Would you like a plate?”

“I’m not hungry. But thank you.” I look from Alma to William. “I’m here because I need your help.”

William raises his head to look at me. “That is a first. The English police asking the Amish for help.”

Isaac and Billy wrestle into the kitchen. William speaks sharply to them. “Sit at the table, boys. We will pray.”

Eyeing me suspiciously, Billy and Isaac take the chairs to William’s right. Alma sets a basket of bread in the center of the table and then takes her place to her husband’s left. I stand near the kitchen doorway, perspiring in the sweltering heat, trying not to feel like an outsider as the family bows their heads and William recites the before meal prayer.

“O Herr Gott, himmlischer Vater, Segne uns und Diese Diene Gaben, die wir von Deiner milden Gute Zu uns nehmen warden, Speise und tranke auch unsere Seelen zum ewigen Leben, und mach uns theilhaftig Deines himmllischen Tisches durch Jesus Christum. Amen.”

Oh Lord God, heavenly Father, bless us and these thy gifts, which we shall accept from thy tender goodness. Give us food and drink also for our souls unto life eternal, and make us partakers of thy heavenly table through Jesus Christ. Amen.

Even after seventeen years, the words come back with a clarity that astonishes me. I recited that prayer a thousand times as a child. Memories fly at me out of the backwaters of my mind. My datt’s baritone voice. Sarah and Jonas and I trading food beneath the table. Mamm knowing what we were doing, but never busting us because she knew sometimes Datt’s punishments were too severe for the crime.

The memories scatter when William raises his head, grabs his fork and begins to eat. “What do you want from us?”

I didn’t want to discuss police business with the children present, but I may not get another opportunity, so I plunge ahead. “It’s about the Plank case. I need your help.”

“I do not see how we can help,” Alma says. “Billy did not see the man clearly—”

“The killer doesn’t know that.”

William and Alma look at me. Isaac stops eating and looks at me, a green bean sticking out the side of his mouth. Only Billy continues chewing, oblivious to the conversation. “I do not understand,” William says after a moment.

“I want to set a trap. Make the killer believe Billy was a witness. To do that, I need access to your farm for a few days. So I can lure the killer here.”

Alma opens her mouth to speak, but William beats her to it. “I will not allow you to put my family in danger.”