Free Among the Wicked: A Kate Burkholder Novel by Linda Castillo

driver.” Still, there’s no doubt I’ll be spending a good bit of time marching through snow.
    “What can you tell me about the children in the settlement?” I ask.
    “The kids live with their families, of course,” Suggs replies. “Some of the families live on Schrock’s land. Others live in the general area, on small farms mostly. I think we’ve got two or three families living in town.”
    “Is there a school?”
    He nods. “It’s on Schrock’s property. Smallish white clapboard building a few hundred yards from the dirt road. One of the first buildings you come to when you drive in.”
    I pull out my notebook, scan my notes, then put it away. “I’ll be going by the name Kate Miller. I’m a widow. My husband, John, died of cancer nine months ago. I’m Swartzentruber, so I’m looking for a community with like beliefs. I’m from near Millersburg, but I’ll keep it vague, in case someone tries to check up on me. Since they have no reason to be suspicious, I don’t think they’ll go to the trouble. Back in Ohio, I found the Amish bishop too lenient. I heard about Eli Schrock from a cousin who’d heard about him from a friend. My parents are passed away.” I shrug. “That’s about it.”
    “Always best to keep things simple when you’re undercover,” Suggs says. “Good cover story.”
    Betancourt nods. “A few things to keep in mind, Chief Burkholder. In addition to information on the death of Rachel Esh, we’re looking for any indication of child abuse or neglect. You know what to look for.” He motions toward the phone. “It’s set up for photos.”
    I nod.
    “As we mentioned back in Painters Mill, local law enforcement also got wind of a rumor about people being held against their will. We got nothing concrete. Since these people are so damn secretive, you’ll just have to keep your ear to the ground.”
    “I’m good at that.”
    Betancourt holds my gaze. “We’re going to need you to report in at least once every twenty-four hours. More, if you can manage it. If you go past twenty-four hours, we’ll have no choice but to assume you’re in trouble.”
    Suggs interjects, “In which case, I’ll check on you at your home. If you’re not there, I’ll get my deputies involved. We’ll drive out to Schrock’s place and find an excuse to look around.”
    I nod. “All right.”
    Suggs and Betancourt exchange looks. “Is there anything else we can do for you to help you get started with all this, Chief Burkholder?” Betancourt asks.
    A uneasy silence echoes within the walls like curse words whispered by a child. I work to settle in my mind everything that’s been said, but the mission ahead is unwieldy, with far too many variables.
    “I think we’ve covered just about everything,” I say after a moment.
    Betancourt reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a plain white envelope. “Eight hundred bucks cash. It’ll get you into the trailer, buy your groceries, and keep you in petty cash for a while. Probably enough left to buy a bike over at the Walmart, if you need it.”
    I pocket the envelope without looking at the cash. “I think now would be a good time for me to get dressed.”
    Suggs rises. “I’ll grab your suitcase.”

 
    CHAPTER 6
    It’s been eighteen years since I last wore an Amish dress. Even after so much time, the memories and old resentments rise inside me as I pull the clothes from my suitcase. This particular dress is slightly large for my frame, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing when you’re packing heat. The fabric is heavy for winter warmth, and dark gray, which is acceptable by almost all church districts. I’d forgotten what a pain the pins are, and my fingers fumble helplessly as I secure the halsduch , or cape, over the bodice. I poke myself twice before getting everything into its proper place.
    I’ve chosen a thigh holster for the .22 mini Magnum. It’s black neoprene. I adjust it so the weapon rests on the side and slightly in front