Stepping back, she opens the door wider. She’s nervous now; I see it in the way her eyes flick away from mine. I don’t believe it has anything to do with me personally or the murders. Mistrust between the Amish and the English police has been a problem in this town for as long as I can remember. My being formerly Amish has helped dispel some of the friction, but it hasn’t eradicated it.

“Of course,” Alma says. “Come in.”

Glock and I enter a small living room. The plywood floor is covered with a blue and white braided rug that’s tracked with dirt. Against the far wall, a walnut bench is draped with a worn quilt and a couple of throw pillows. I smell kerosene and frying scrapple and for an instant I’m reminded of my own childhood home. A bittersweet memory best left in the past.

“There was a problem at the Plank farm,” I begin. “A shooting.”

She presses her hand against her breast. “Was anyone hurt?”

“I’m afraid so.” I don’t elaborate. I want her husband there when I tell them about the murders. I don’t believe the Zooks are involved. Still, I want to see their unrehearsed reactions when I tell them the news.

“Has something happened?”

I turn at the male voice and see William Zook approach from the kitchen. He’s a tall, thin man with hunched shoulders and a salt-and-pepper beard badly in need of a trim. He wears a blue work shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a flat brimmed straw hat, trousers and suspenders. His eyes are sharp and suspicious when they land on me.

Showing him my badge, I get right to the point. “Mr. Zook, there was a shooting last night at the Plank farm. I’d like to ask you and your wife a few questions.”

“A shooting accident?” His eyes narrow. “Was anyone hurt?”

Normally, I don’t release the names of the deceased until I’ve notified the next of kin. Since the Planks are from Lancaster County, I’m still working on obtaining NOK contact information, which could take a few hours. With the clock ticking and a killer on the loose, I can’t put my investigation on hold that long. If a member of the Zook family saw something, I need to know about it now.

“The entire family was murdered,” I say.

“Ach!” William presses his hand to his chest.

Across the room, his wife gasps. “The children?”

I glance over at her and shake my head. “There were no survivors.”

Quickly, I shift my attention back to William. His complexion has gone pale. He stares at me as if I’ve just plunged a knife into his chest. “Dead?” he whispers. “All of them?”

“I’m afraid so.”