An Evil Heart (Kate Burkholder, #15)(10)

After a moment, Angela turns away, lowers her face into her hands. She doesn’t make a sound, but I see her shoulders begin to shake.

I turn my attention to Lester, ease my spiral-bound notebook from my pocket. “When’s the last time you saw Aden?” I ask quietly.

He looks down at the floor, his mouth working. “Like we said. Two days ago. He came over for supper.”

“Was everything all right with him?” I ask. “Did he mention any problems? Any difficulties in his life?”

He gives an adamant shake of his head. “No.”

“Did Aden have any enemies? Was he having any problems with anyone?”

He raises his gaze to mine and for the first time, I see questions. The burgeoning realization that his son’s death may not have been an accident. “Are you saying someone did this thing on purpose?” he asks. “Ran over him?”

“We’re not exactly sure what happened.” It’s the only honest answer I have. “I know that’s not enough information, but all I can tell you at this point is I promise you I’m going to do everything in my power to find out what happened.”

Shaking his head, the Amish man looks down at the floor.

I give him a moment before continuing. “Lester, was Aden having any disputes or arguments with anyone? With his neighbors? Or a girlfriend? Any issues at work? Anything like that?”

“No,” he says gruffly.

“Did he live alone?”

“He lives with Wayne Graber.”

“They’re friends?” I ask.

“More like brothers. They’ve known each other since they were boys.”

“Do they have a good relationship?”

“Practically grew up together,” he replies. “I’ve known Wayne since he was a wee thing. I know the whole family.” He raises his head, his eyes going wide. “Is Wayne okay? Is he—”

“As far as I know, he’s fine,” I say quickly. “I’ll be speaking to him as soon as I can.” I glance down at my notebook. “Do you know where Wayne works?”

The couple exchange looks. Lester answers. “Last I heard he was working out at Mast Tiny Homes.”

I write it down. “Did Aden have a girlfriend?” I ask. “Was he seeing anyone?”

Lester looks at me as if I’ve asked an inappropriate question. Angela turns slowly toward us. Her face is blotchy and red, her cheeks wet. “He’s courting Emily Byler,” she says.

I recognize the last name. “Andy and Clara’s girl?”

“Ja.”

I jot the names in my notebook. “Are Emily and Aden close?” I ask. “Is it a serious relationship?”

“Serious enough,” the Amish woman murmurs. “I reckon they were going to get married in a year or so. Em’s a sweet thing. We like her a lot.”

“Course Aden’s on rumspringa,” Lester puts in, referring to the “running around” time most Amish teens indulge in before their baptism. “Been running around, you know. Hard to keep up with the youngsters when they don’t live at home.”

“Poor Em’s going to be torn up over this.” The Amish woman’s face crumples again, and she swipes at the tears with her fingertips.

Steeling myself against the other woman’s agony, I tug my card from my pocket, jot my cell number on the back, and pass it to Lester. “If you remember something that might be important, call me,” I tell them.

Without answering, Lester looks down at the card, but it’s as if he doesn’t see it.

The grief filling the room is suffocating. Again, I feel that breathless sensation in my chest. I reach out and touch Angela’s hand, but she pulls it away, doesn’t look at me.

I leave them like that. Silent and staring. Their lives shattered. Their hearts broken.



* * *



I sit in the Explorer with my hands on the wheel for a full minute before starting the engine. That’s the thing about being a cop in a small town. Policing is a hell of a lot more personal. You know the people you’ve sworn to serve and protect. Whether it’s to write a speeding ticket, round up escaped livestock, pull someone’s dog from a frozen pond, or tell parents their teenage son has wrapped his Mustang around a tree and didn’t survive, you know them. You know the families. You know their strengths and weaknesses. You know their secrets. Sometimes that personal connection hurts because you have a job to do and there’s no one else.

Shaking off the remnants of their grief, I mentally shift gears and I think about where I am in terms of the investigation. This is the stage when a cop needs to be in a dozen places at once. Information is the name of the game and I need all of it yesterday. Homicides are rarely random; the victim usually knows his killer. I think about Aden Karn’s life and relationships. His family dynamics. The people he loved. Who did he spend time with? Who were his coworkers? His neighbors? Business associates?

Someone always knows something, a little voice whispers in my ear.

I pick up my cell as I back from the parking space and hail Dispatch. Lois picks up on the first ring. “Anything come back on Aden Karn?” I ask.

“Squeaky clean, Chief. Not even a speeding ticket.”

“Run Angela and Lester Karn, will you?” I’ve no doubt the couple have clean records. Even so, it’s always wise to check. “Run Wayne Graber, too. Emily Byler. And her parents.”