“Do you mind if I take a look around your property?”

She brightens, as if pleased to have something proactive to do. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’d prefer if you stayed here.” I set my hand on her shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze. “In case he comes back while I’m gone.”

Wringing her hands, she crosses to the porch and sits on the step, not caring about the damp. “I know God will take care of him. But I’m frightened.”

I hit my lapel mike. “T.J.?”

“Hey, Chief.”

“Any sign of anyone at Norm’s place?”

“Nothing here.”

I fill him in on the situation. “Will you take a cruise around the block out here at the Hochstetler farm?”

“Will do.”

I disconnect to see Hannah returning from the mudroom off the kitchen with a pair of mud boots in hand. “He didn’t take his boots with him. If he’d been going out, he would have taken them.”

“Go inside and lock the doors,” I tell her. I’m going to take a look around. I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”

Nodding, she goes back into the house and closes the door behind her. I hold my ground until I hear the lock click, and then I go to the Explorer. It’s drizzling, so I pull on my slicker, grab my full-size Maglite, and head into the darkness.

I begin my search at the fruit stand. The structure is small, and within minutes I’ve determined that Hoch isn’t there. The only visible footprints are Hannah’s. I leave the fruit stand and take the gravel driveway to the rear of the house, where a ten-foot-wide gate opens to the orchard. The hinges squeak as I open it and go through. Mud sucks at my boots as I follow the two-track path toward the trees where the road splits. I set my beam on the ground in front of me and spot a single set of tracks. The mud is too sloppy for me to discern the size or type of shoe, but they go left, so I follow.

Around me the night is as dark and wet as some underwater cave. The air is heavy with mist, and I can feel the cold weight of it pressing down on me. The tracks take me along a row of mature apple trees. In the darkness, the branches look like black capillaries spread out against the sky. It’s so quiet, I can hear the water dripping off of the branches and splattering on the saturated ground.