A Perfect Square Read Free

At five-foot-eight, he was only two inches taller than she was, but he was much more solid. Farming was his life. It showed in the thick muscles of his forearms and neck.
    Most days, Reuben spent twelve to fourteen hours working in the fields, and if he was kept inside because of weather, he found work in the barn that he and Tobias had reframed into two separate spaces — a living area and a work room. Plus there was the small woodwork shop he’d begun in the last year. The man didn’t abide being idle.
    This morning, the look on his face remained unreadable — mouth frozen in a scowl, eyes locked on the horizon. Thirty-five years old, his long sideburns were the same brown as the hair that touched the collar of his shirt. But since he’d never been married, he sported no beard.
    For one fleeting second though, when he’d come running to the pond with her, Deborah thought perhaps she’d seen recognition in his light brown eyes. Then any remembering had left his expression, like the shades she pulled down over her windows in the house to block out the dark night.
    When she’d asked if he’d known the girl, Reuben had shaken his head once, stuffed his hands in the pockets of his work pants, and stared out over the waters of the pond. He hadn’t moved in the thirty minutes since.
    “Did they say how long it would take to get here?” she asked.
    Reuben shook his head slightly, but he didn’t break his silence.
    “Did you speak to Officer Gavin?”
    Again the headshake.
    Deborah had known Reuben all her life. He’d never been the talkative type, but even for him this silence seemed a bit ominous.
    She was about to step toward him, reach out to touch his shoulder, and question him further when a Shipshewana patrol car bumped down the lane. Esther, Leah, and Joshua popped up and began waving their arms. The patrol car pulled even with Deborah’s buggy and slowed to a stop before the officer rolled down his window and began talking to Esther.
    As Deborah watched the scene play out, she noticed that Reuben never turned. If anything, the look on his face hardened.
    Before she could puzzle it out, Officer Stan Taylor opened the door to the patrol car, stood and placed his hands across the roof of the vehicle. After he’d carefully assessed the situation, he looked toward them, looked back at her buggy, and then down at the ground. Taking off his officer’s cap, he resettled it on his head, then continued alongside the path of trampled grass — walking in the high weeds as if he didn’t want to contaminate any evidence that she, Esther, both
kinner,
or the horse hadn’t already managed to destroy.
    Taylor fit easily into the small Amish community of Shipshewana. In fact, if Deborah remembered correctly, he’d been bornthere. Old enough to be a grandfather himself, each year Deborah expected him to retire, but he didn’t. As captain of their six-man department, he seemed to enjoy watching over Shipshewana and tending to what little needs their small community had.
    Needs like dead girls in a pond.
    The brown color of Taylor’s eyes reminded Deborah of the Black-eyed Susans waving by her side. They were the same shade of brown, framed by bushy white eyebrows like the flowers’ petals, and they were every bit as gentle as the blooms. A protruding stomach told Deborah that Officer Taylor wasn’t having much luck with the diet his wife had put him on. He still moved easily down the path though, losing no time plodding toward her.
    As he neared, Deborah saw his concern. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d pulled her into a hug. Instead, he put his hand on the end of his pistol, which remained holstered in his belt.
    “Are you all right, Deborah?”
    “
Ya
,
ya
, I’m fine.” She couldn’t stop herself from sending a worried look Reuben’s way. “I didn’t actually find the girl; Esther did.”
    “I spoke with her a minute. She seems shaken, but okay.” Taylor dropped into a crouch and studied the