Fall from Pride Read Free Page B

taut, his nose broad with a little bump, like maybe he broke it once. A thin white scar on his forehead slanted into his left eyebrow, but it was his eyes that entranced her. He had deep blue eyes when she thought dark-haired people mostly had brown ones. What a color that lake-blue would be for a painted quilt square—probably for the pattern of Ocean Waves, because that design, like her other favorites, seemed to shift, to move and beckon….
    â€œThe state fire marshal’s office received calls from the sheriff and the newspaper editor about this blaze,” Nate said directly to her. “I understand you ran across the fields. I’d like to interview everyone who saw the early stages of thefire. Actually, if it’s okay, I’d like to have you show me the exact spot at your place where you first saw the blaze so you can describe size, color and positioning to me. A time frame of its spread pattern will really help.”
    Ordinarily, Sarah would have waited for the bishop or her father to approve, but she said, “I’d be glad to help. I was just going to go back over, and I can meet you there, or you can come calling—I mean, visit us when it suits.”
    Her father cleared his throat and said, “Sarah had a big loss here, too, Mr. MacKenzie. She’s been painting large quilt patterns on barns to help draw visitors to our area, and this was her first one. Enlarging it lately, just yesterday, too.”
    â€œPlease, call me Nate. I saw one of those on the way in. Very striking. Did you lose paint or paint thinner in the barn last night?”
    â€œYes, but the cans were all closed up tight,” she told him, her voice steady now. “I tap them back in their grooves when I’m done. Besides, I use exterior latex paint, water soluble, not oil base that needs turpentine or something like that. I left my scaffolding and two ladders just outside the barn, leaning against it. That’s the bigger loss, moneywise.”
    Nate, still watching her, nodded. The sunshine shot more directly into his eyes. She saw he had sunglasses in his coat pocket, but he made no move to put them on, maybe trying to blend in with her people just a bit. He no doubt felt like the outsider he was. Though she was Amish born and bred, sometimes even she felt like that, unwed at the lofty age of twenty-four, a painter, not a sewer of quilts like other women.
    â€œLike I said, Mr. MacKenzie,” Bishop Esh put in, “no lanterns inside the barn and only seasoned hay, not the green stuff that can catch itself on fire.”
    â€œNo open accelerants from paint supplies, no spontaneous combustion from methane-emitting hay,” Nate said into his mouth wire. “Would it be okay if I take Sarah over to your farm in my vehicle?” he asked her father.
    â€œSure, and I’ll ride along,” Daad told him. “My son, Gabe, can bring our buggy back over.”
    Sarah knew better than to feel prideful or important, but her people parted for the three of them like Moses at the Red Sea as they walked toward the big, black truck. “We call her VERA for Vehicle for Emergency Response and Arson,” Nate explained, patting the shiny hood as Sarah might her buggy horse, Sally.
    â€œArson,” Sarah repeated. “Then you do think someone set the barn on fire?”
    â€œYet to be determined. Arson’s the easiest crime to commit but often the hardest to prove. I know this barn—all your barns—are important to your way of life. If we can eliminate accident and act of nature, arson’s what’s left, and then I’ll investigate that.”
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    Nate wasn’t sure if the Amish woman and her father were awed or frightened by VERA, but they climbed in the big front seat with him, Sarah between the two men. He was surprised they didn’t fumble with their seat belts but clicked them quickly in place. She wore no wedding ring, but then he hadn’t seen