I give a nod, but the decision leaves a jittery sensation in the pit of my stomach. “Put Blue back in a cell and go get that ankle monitor.” I look at my watch. “Meet me back here in an hour. I’ve got to break the news to Hoch Yoder.”

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

It’s 11 P.M. by the time I turn into the gravel lane of Yoder’s Pick-Your-Own Apple Farm. The shop is closed this time of night, so I continue down the lane to the house and park adjacent a white rail fence. A single upstairs window glows with lantern light. After shutting down the engine, I leave my vehicle and go through the gate and take the sidewalk to the front of the house and knock.

I wait several minutes before the door opens. Hoch Yoder thrusts a lantern at me, his eyes widening upon spotting me. “Chief Burkholder. Was der schinner is letz?” What in the world is wrong?

“I’m sorry to bother you so late, Hoch. I need to talk to you.” When he hesitates, I add. “It’s important.”

“Of course.” He opens the door wider and beckons me inside.

I follow him through a darkened living room and into the kitchen. I take the same chair I took last time I was here. He goes to the counter, removes the globe of a second lantern, and lights the mantle.

“Hoch?”

I glance toward the kitchen doorway to see his wife, Hannah, enter. She’s wearing a blue sleeping gown with a crocheted shawl over her shoulders. She looks from her husband to me. “Is everything all right?”

“I have some news for Hoch,” I tell her. “About the case from 1979.”

They exchange looks, and then Hannah joins him at the counter, sets her hand on his arm. “I’ll make cider.”

Giving her a nod, he crosses to the table and sits across from me. “Did you catch them?”

“I believe all but one of the people responsible for what happened that night is dead.”

“Dead? But…” Realization dawns on his face. “You mean those people who were murdered?”

I nod. “The fourth man is in custody. He confessed.”

“Confessed? Who is it?”

“Blue Branson.”

“The Englischer breddicher?” The English preacher? Incredulity rings hard in his voice. “But why … He … Mein gott. I have no words.”

“Hoch, I can’t go into much detail, because the investigation is ongoing. But … I have some information for you.”

Hannah approaches the table with three mugs of cider. “Chief Burkholder,” she begins, “are you certain about Pastor Branson?” She sets the mugs in front of us. “He seems like such a decent, God-loving man. He donated a hundred dollars when Chubby Joe Esh’s house burned last year. He came out and worked alongside the Amish to help rebuild.”