Return to Grace. Karen Harper
not big on this reenactment tactic, but it may help. You may remember even more.”
“But I barely went into the maze that night, just a little ways to yell at them to come out. I went in the entrance and took one turn and it seemed so dark. By the time I started walking back toward the car, they came bursting out through the maze wall.”
“Anything else you recall, just let me know, honey.”
Honey? It was no doubt a slip of the tongue. He’s probably meant to say Hannah. But he still held her arm, stroking it with his thumb as if to calm her, but it didn’t. It had the opposite effect.
“All right, let’s go,” she said, and pulled away to fumble with her door handle, which was still locked until he clicked something so she could open it. The big print sign with the maze rules—Stay on the Paths!—was knocking against something in the wind. It scared her when Linc drew his gun, though he just held it down at his side. In his other hand he held a sturdy flashlight with a bright beam. That made her feel a bit better, as had their earlier heart-to-heart talk today.
Trying to figure him out as a person, not just as an investigator, she’d asked him if he had a family.
“Sure—two brothers who live out near Denver, one of them a police chief. I have nieces and nephews galore. But married with kids? No. Came close, but it wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. Sometime I work 24/7, seven days a week, then can leave on a moment’s notice and be gone for days, like this assignment. Since Quantico—that’s our training site in Virginia—I’ve been busy climbing the Bureau’s ladder—that’s another name for the FBI. My college degree was in finance, but white-collar crimes bored me stiff.”
“So now you’re in a group that looks into murders?”
“Right, violent crimes. Amish country is the last place I thought that would ever take me. If I make it to retirement age at fifty, I don’t know if I could take a place this peaceful.”
“Age fifty? But that’s so young to retire.”
“Only twelve years away, but I’ll find something else to do. Maybe help build barns,” he’d said with a chuckle, though she couldn’t see what was funny about that. And she thought someone that busy could still be lonely, but she didn’t say so yet. Right now, as they approached the maze, that gun was making her feel more jumpy than safe.
“You sure you need the gun?” she asked as her courage wavered again.
“Just a precaution, since I can’t see around the next corner. So how scary are the displays in here?”
“I came through once with Seth in our rumspringa years, though we weren’t supposed to because the bishop—my father—didn’t approve of this place with its witches and fake dead bodies. It’s not like things jump at you, at least not back then. They’re mostly stuffed, but some look real, even though most folks come through in the daylight, unless you make special arrangements with the Meyerses for a group after dark and then they watch you like a hawk.”
“Yeah? Then I’ll bet they would have been upset at unannounced night visitors, especially weird-looking ones making noise.”
Despite fitful moonlight and Linc’s flashlight beam, it was instantly darker inside the maze. The dry cornstalks rustled and seemed to press in on them. Shadows leaped from everywhere.
“Okay, so the guys probably turned to the right here,” he said, darting his beam into the blackness.
“I’m not sure, but they did eventually emerge from the right side of the maze, over this way. But they were inside here long enough that they could have gotten a lot farther than this.”
“The Meyers brothers must know this labyrinth in their sleep. They could have been in here, nearby, and Kevin and Mike wouldn’t even have known it.”
Hannah gasped when they walked through fake, suspended cobwebs—yarn?—around the next turn, but Linc just shoved them away with the flashlight. The beam bounced across his face. It almost made his features look like a fright mask she’d seen uptown in the drugstore near Halloween. While Hannah hung back a bit, Linc peered around another corner. It was all she could do to keep from taking his arm, clinging to him.
“Don’t look here,” he said, stepping back almost into her. “It’s a gross ghoul or zombie in an open coffin. Tell you what, let’s do this backward since you do know where they emerged from. They should hand out maps of these paths.”
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