Praise for MARTA PERRY
Marta Perry illuminates the differences between the Amish community and the larger society with an obvious care and respect for ways and beliefs. She weaves these differences into the story with a deft hand, drawing the reader into a suspenseful, continually moving plot.
Fresh Fiction on Murder in Plain Sight
Leahs Choice, by Marta Perry, is a knowing and careful look into Amish culture and faith. A truly enjoyable reading experience.
Angela Hunt, New York Times bestselling author of Let Darkness Come
Leahs Choice takes us into the heart of Amish country and the Pennsylvania Dutch and shows us the struggles of the Amish community as the outside world continues to clash with the Plain ways. This is a story of grace and servitude as well as a story of difficult choices and heartbreaking realities. It touched my heart. I think the world of Amish fiction has found a new champion.
Lenora Worth, author of Code of Honor
Marta Perry delivers a strong story of tension, fear and trepidation. Season of Secrets (4.5 stars) is an excellent mystery thats certain to keep you in constant suspense. While love is a powerful entity in this story, danger is never too far behind.
RT Book Reviews, Top Pick
In this beautifully told tale, Marta Perry writes with the gentle cadence and rich detail of someone who understands the Amish well. Leahs Choice kept me reading long into the night.
Linda Goodnight, author of Finding Her Way Home
Vanish in Plain Sight
Marta Perry
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for deciding to read this second book in my Amish suspense series. As a lifelong resident of rural Pennsylvania, I have always lived near the Plain People. My own family heritage is Pennsylvania Dutch, so it has been a pleasure and a challenge to draw on those experiences in my books.
It can be difficult for outsiders to understand the tight bonds of the Amish community, so that it is sometimes seen as secretive or unkind in its efforts to avoid conforming to the world. For many people, the extent of their knowledge about the Amish is derived from the movie Witness, but there is far more to be understood about a unique people trying to live as they believe God wishes.
In this story, Marisa Angelo is the outsider whose personal needs require that she penetrate Amish society to learn about her mothers disappearance. She comes in with a great many preconceptions, most of which are put to the test as she tries to uncover the truth about her mothers background and the events that led up to her disappearance. Ive tried to present Amish belief and practices as honestly and respectfully as I can, and any errors are my own.
I hope youll let me know how you like my book, and Id love to send you a signed bookmark and my free brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can email me at marta@martaperry.com, visit me on the web at www.martaperry.com or on Facebook at Marta Perry Books, or write to me at HQN Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.
Blessings,
Marta Perry
This story is dedicated to my husband, Brian, who always believes I can find another story to tell.
Acknowledgments
Id like to express my thanks to all those whose expertise helped me in writing this book: to Erik Wesner, whose Amish America blog is enormously helpful; to Donald Kraybill and John Hostetler, whose books are the definitive resources on Amish life and beliefs; to the Plain People I have known and respected; and to my family, for giving me such a rich heritage on which to draw.
The righteousness of the blameless makes a straight way for them, but the wicked are brought down by their own wickedness.
Proverbs 11:5
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
LINK MORGAN NARROWED his focus to the heavy sledgehammer and the satisfying thwack it made when it broke into the old paneling.
The paneling shattered beneath Links sledgehammer, its shoddiness a contrast to the solid double-plank construction of the rest of the old farmhouse. Setting the sledgehammer down, he pulled fragments loose with gloved hands, tossing them into a pile in front of the fireplace. The last bit of the section came free, revealing what lay behind it.
He stared, methodically wiping the sweat from his forehead. Shaking off the foreboding that gripped him, he reached into the wall and pulled out the object that lay there. A suitcase. Not empty, by the feel of it.
Carrying it to the makeshift worktable, he set down his find. An inexpensive suitcase, its fabric sides coated in dust and marred by stains. How long had it lain there, inside the wall of Uncle Allens house? More important, why was it there?
He snapped open the latch and swung back the lid. Womens clothes, by the look of itslacks, a skirt, several blouses. Beneath them something black. He picked it up, shook it out and recognized it. An Amish womans black apron. His stomach twisted, rebelling the way it had in Afghanistan when they were coming upon a perfect place for an ambush.
Taking out the apron revealed what lay under it: a white Amish prayer kapp. At the very bottom was a framed photograph. He picked up the picture, bad feelings growing. A woman and a young girl, looking at each other, faces lit with laughter and love. Mother and daughter, hed guess from the similarities in the faces. The child looked to be about four or five.
He set the picture down gently and took a step away from the table. Something was wrong here. The pair in the photo wore typical, though a little outdated, clothing. So how did that square with the Amish clothing in the suitcase? The pressure that had driven him for months urged him to ignore this, to get on with his plans. Whatever had led to this suitcase being placed inside the wall of the old house his uncle had left him, it was no concern of his.
If he hadnt opened the suitcase, maybe he could have bought that. But the contents raised too many questions. Too late now to take the easy way out. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and dialed the Spring Township police.
Ten minutes later a police car pulled into the driveway. The occupants got out and headed for the back door, as country people always did, and he walked out to the back porch to meet them. Before he had a chance to speak, his brother Treys pickup drew to a stop behind the cruiser.
Hed called Trey right after hed called the police, figuring he would want to know. After all, he was the one whod been here for the past six years while Link was off at college and then in the army. Maybe hed be able to shed some light on this, but even if he couldnt, Trey was the kind of person you turned to when there was trouble.
Besides, Trey knew everyone. Adam Byler, now the township police chief, had been friends with Links big brother since they were kids, running around together, usually trying to brush off Link, the bratty little brother tagging after them and getting into trouble.
Hey, Link. Adam pulled off sunglasses and started toward him, followed by another copDick McCall, fiftyish, balding, with a paunch that strained his uniform shirt a bit more each year. Mac had been a township cop when Link had been soaping windows at ten.
Sorry to call you out. Link leaned against the porch post, hoping it didnt look as if he needed its support. Its probably nothing, but I figured youd want a look at this.
No problem. Thats what you pay taxes for, right? Adam punched his shoulder lightly, the tap a hint of the power that lay behind it. Adam was as solid now as hed been in high school, with not an ounce of fat on his muscular frame. Lets have a look.
Trey joined them, giving Link the worried look hed been using since Link got out of the military hospital and came home to recuperate.
Whats up? Treys voice was so much like Dads that it still shocked Link sometimes. Adam said you found something inside the wall of the addition.
He jerked a nod and headed inside. See for yourself.
The family room, stretching across the rear of the centuries-old farmhouse, seemed smaller with four men in it. They stood in an awkward circle around the opened suitcase.
Adam took the photo, setting it so they all could see. He glanced at Link. You know who the woman is?
Link shook his head, frowning at a vague memory that teased at the back of his mind. The face seems a little familiar, but thats all.
Yeah, me, too, Trey said, sounding annoyed with himself that he didnt have the answer.
Mac picked up the photo. You three boys are too young to remember, thats all. Its Barbara Angelo, thats who it is.
Angelo. The frown on Adams stolid face deepened. Wasnt there a scandal or something about her?
Ran off from her husband and kid, thats the way I heard it. Mac looked gratified at their attention. Russ Angelo, the husband, said shed gone back to Indiana to her family, leaving the little girl with him and his mother. Barbara was Amish, see, left the church to marry him, but the marriage didnt work out. He shrugged. It happens. Nobody questioned her leaving all that much, as I recall.
But if her suitcase is here Trey let that trail off.
No point in going on. Trey was thinking what they were all thinking. If Barbara Angelo had deserted her husband and small daughter, what was her suitcase doing in the wall of Allen Morgans house?
Adam closed the suitcase, scanning the sides with his eyes, not touching. No ID tags. The kind of cheap bag you could pick up at any discount store.
To Links eyes, the bag looked worn and battered, but maybe that was just the effect of being inside the paneling all these years. It was thick with dust, splattered with darker stains and a few nicks here and there.
Adam seemed to scan the stains more closely, then looked around the room. Where was it?
Right here, next to the fireplace. Link showed them, concentrating on not limping as he crossed the room. Maybe that sledgehammer had been a bit much. The army said he was as well as they could make him, after what had happened in Afghanistan.
Adam squatted down, studying the area as deliberately as he did everything. Well, its not a crime to put a suitcase inside a wall. You two know when this work was done?
We were kids when Uncle Allen built the addition, thats as close as I can come, Trey said. Mom would know exactly, though.
Adam let his gaze move around the room. I hate to say it, but I think wed best make sure theres nothing else inside that paneling. He shot a glance at Link. You mind?
Hey, Im tearing it off anyway. Ill take any help I can get. One things sureif there is anything, it has to be in this room. The rest of the house has solid double-plank walls. Not room even for a mouse.
Let alone a human body, if thats what they were talking about.
Well, lets have at it. Trey picked up the sledgehammer before Link could reach it. He managed a grin at Link. You sure this isnt just a ploy to get us to do the work for you?
How else would I get you to do it? Youre still dead set against my selling the old place, arent you? Link softened the question with an attempted smile, but hed be glad if everyone would stop hovering over him.
I just wish youd stick around for a while, thats all, Trey said. He punctuated the words with a swing of the sledgehammer. Seems like Morgans belong here in Lancaster County.
Trey didnt understand this drive of Links to leavethat was clear. Link wasnt sure he understood it himself, but life had to be easier someplace where people werent worrying about him all the time. A buddy of his was keeping a job for him in California. He had a simple plan: renovate the house, sell it, move to California and forget what had happened to his team in Afghanistan and the career hed once thought to have in the military.
With four of them working, the job didnt take long. Soon all the old paneling lay in dusty stacks on the floor.
Nothing. Adam summed it up, brushing off his hands. Maybe thats what the whole thing amounts to. I guess there could be some innocent explanation for the womans suitcase being inside the wall of your uncles house.
Can you think of one? Trey challenged. Link could hear the worry in his voice. Hed be thinking about how Mom would take this.
Not off the top of my head, Adam admitted. But that doesnt mean there isnt one. Still, crime or no crime, I guess Id better look into it. He shrugged. Sorry.
That was aimed at both him and Trey, Link supposed. After all, it had been their uncles house. There would be talk, speculation about the possible relationship between Allen Morgan and the Angelo woman. Adam might want to keep it quiet, but they all knew how impossible that was in a place like Spring Township.
Link picked up the photograph, looking into the big brown eyes of the little girl, feeling again that sense of something wrong hed had the first time he looked at her face, reminding him of those other children who saw death and destruction everyday. Stronger than thatit was a sense of empathy, as if the child meant something to him.
One thing I do know, he said. This kid, or rather, the woman she is nowshe deserves to know what happened to her mother.