A Plain Disappearance by Amanda Flower

influence on our family. I’m sure he looks to that for the reason that Becky and I both left the Amish way.”
    “Does Grandfather Zook know this?”
    “If I know, I’m sure he does.” He grinned. “But I imagine that he doesn’t much care what Jeb Lambright thinks.”
    Grandfather Zook moved to Appleseed Creek from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, four years ago when Mrs. Troyer was pregnant with Naomi. His daughter had a string of miscarriages and he wanted to be here to support her in case the baby was lost again. After Naomi was born healthy and happy, he never went back to Lancaster. Instead, he found that the quiet pace of Knox County suited him.
    Timothy sighed. “With that said, this will be the last straw. I would be surprised if Anna says three words to Ruth the next time she sees my sister.”
    “If her father’s not around, why wouldn’t she speak to Ruth?”
    “She’d be too afraid to because he would be so angry with her.”
    I mulled this over. “Are you saying Jeb Lambright would hurt his girls?”
    “No, no, I didn’t mean that. He has a temper. That’s all. After visiting the farm earlier today, I know his wife does too.” Timothy moved back through the living/bedroom, then he checked the bathroom. I let him do that on his own. If the living room and kitchen were this bad, I shivered to think what the bathroom was like. Timothy’s face was grim when he stepped out. “His toothbrush is gone. He left in a hurry, but he took the essentials.”
    “You assume he brushes his teeth.” I waved my arms around the room. “Look at this place.”
    Timothy gave a half-hearted smile at my joke.
    I folded my arms over my filthy coat. I couldn’t wait to go home and take a shower. “How are we going to find him?”
    Timothy’s brow shot up. “Find him?”
    I gave him a look.
    He sighed. “I guess we can start by talking to Greta.”
    I smiled.
    Timothy buttoned his wool coat. “I figured you would try to find him—whether or not I helped.”
    My smile turned into a grin. “Like you said, Mr. Troyer, you know me well.”

Chapter Seven
    I called the Appleseed Creek police chief from the cab of Timothy’s truck. The snow glowed with the pink and orange colors from the setting sun, and the icicles hanging from Billy’s shop glittered. I shuddered. They were much smaller, but they reminded me of the icicles hanging from the Gundy barn—and of the one that may have killed Katie.
    “Humphrey, I’ve been expecting your call.” Chief Rose’s sharp voice rang in my ear.
    “You have?”
    “Well, sure. Officer Nottingham saw you and Troyer snooping around Uncle Billy’s place well over an hour ago. How’d you finally get inside?”
    Heat rushed to my face. Timothy’s brow furrowed as he watched my reaction. “She knows we were inside of Billy’s place,” I mouthed.
    Timothy ran a finger across his throat as if Chief Rose was going to cut off our heads.
    I rolled my eyes. “Under the broken garage door,” I said into the phone.
    “A tried and true method. Find anything interesting?”
    “Since you were already there, I should be really asking you that.”
    “More than I bargained for,” she muttered.
    I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but she went on. “We need to talk face-to-face.”
    “About Billy?”
    “Among other things. Are you available now?”
    I heard a tap, tap, tap on the other end of the line. I imagined the Appleseed Creek police chief tapping her pen on her desk. I covered the mouthpiece and repeated what Chief Rose said to Timothy. He nodded once. “Yes,” I told her. “We can meet you.”
    “Good. You’re going to have to come to me. I need to hang around the station. Everyone goes off their rocker this time of year, and I made the mistake of giving my secretary the week off. Too much family togetherness makes some reach for the drink and others for the shotgun. I much prefer President’s Day. No one hardly ever shoots anyone on President’s Day.” She