When Secrets Strike. Marta Perry

Jonah isn’t that bad,” Aaron said peaceably. “He might be half-asleep, but the cows don’t mind.”

      Daad didn’t seem satisfied. “Wish I knew what he was up to. He’s not near as responsible as you were when you were going through your rumspringa.”

      “Funny.” Aaron grinned, catching his mother’s eye to exchange a knowing look. “I don’t recall you saying so at the time.”

      “Just leave Jonah to have his fun.” Becky glanced up from her cutting, the scissors in her hand. “He’s not up to any mischief, ain’t so, Aaron?”

      “That’s right,” Aaron agreed, although he knew Becky would gladly cover up for Jonah if need be. The two younger ones were so close in age that they’d formed a special bond, always looking out for each other. Much as Aaron tried to bridge it, the age gap between him and his brother was just too big for Jonah to confide in him.

      Daad grunted, giving the paper a shake. “Hope you’re right, that’s all.” He let the newspaper flop down again to look at Aaron. “You know, I was thinking about Matthew Gibson going and selling his place without a word to you. Seems to me you should write to him. Just ask him what happened.”

      Aaron shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good now. The matter’s settled, from what Preston told me.”

      “Well, I’d still write.” Daad’s graying beard seemed to bristle. “Must be some explanation.”

      Maybe, but he didn’t feel like ruffling any feathers over it. Matt Gibson had the right to do as he pleased with his property.

      Daad looked as if he intended to press the matter, but before he could say anything else, an unexpected sound crackled through the quiet kitchen, startling them. Scarlet-faced, Becky dived for the drawer of the china closet and unearthed her cell phone.

      “Sorry, Daadi. I forgot to switch it off.” She turned with the phone in her hand. It was jingling a tune that was certain sure not typical for an Amish household.

      Aaron fought to control his twitching lips. “Maybe you ought to see who it is,” he suggested. Daad had tried to hold out against the use of cell phones, but as Mammi had pointed out, all the rumspringa teens had them, and Jonah and Becky must learn to be responsible with temptations if they were to live Amish.

      Daad had given in, with the stipulation that the phones be turned off in the house. Now he frowned at Becky as she checked the screen. She looked up, puzzled. “It’s from Nick Whiting. Why would he be calling me?”

      Aaron’s nerves jumped. “Check it. It might be important.”

      Becky glanced at their father, got a nod in response and clicked the phone. She held it to her ear, and Aaron saw her face lose its usual rosy color. She murmured something, clicked off and turned to him.

      “Barn fire,” she said, voice shaking. “At the Stoltzfus place. He says he’ll be here for you in a minute.”

      Aaron didn’t wait for more. He bolted toward the back closet where his gear was kept, grabbed it and plunged outside. By the time he reached the driveway, Nick’s pickup truck came roaring toward him, its beams piercing the dark.

      Scrambling in, he braced a hand on the dash as Nick made a fast U-turn and headed back out the drive.

      “How bad is it?”

      “Don’t know, I just heard it’s the barn.” Nick’s expression was grim in the reflected glow from the dashboard. “If they didn’t get the animals out...”

      He didn’t bother to finish. He didn’t need to. They swung onto the blacktop road, and Aaron could see it now—the red glow in the eastern sky that heralded a blaze, and someone’s livelihood going up in smoke.

      “No lightning tonight,” he commented. “And Ben’s one of the most careful men I know when it comes to safety.”

      Nick nodded. “Maybe this will get the state police fire marshal moving in our direction at last. Another fire can’t be a coincidence.”

      “All three fires in the same area, too.” Our area. “What’s going on?”

      There wasn’t any answer to that, and they raced down the road without speaking, hearing the wail of the siren in the distance.

      * * *

      SARAH FELT HEAVY-EYED when she walked toward the shop the next morning. No one out their way had gotten much sleep the previous night, with vehicles racing along the road, and the scream of the sirens as additional fire trucks arrived from the adjoining township. When she thought of the loss to Ben and Miriam, her heart was even heavier than her eyelids.

      The first person she saw at Blackburn House was Mac, leaning against the door frame of the shop. Waiting for her? She’d already told him everything she knew about the fire she’d discovered.

      “Morning, Sarah.” He straightened at her approach, giving her the mischievous smile she remembered from childhood. “Sorry to be your first customer, especially when I’m not even going to buy anything.”

      “I’d faint if you did. Or maybe I’d think you were sick.” She put her key in the lock and entered the shop, turning on lights as she went.

      Everything was just as she and Allison had left it the previous afternoon. How would she feel if, like Ben Stoltzfus, she’d lost something as crucial to her business as his barn was to him? Ben would put a good front on, she supposed, but gazing at the ashes of his fine big barn must be devastating.

      “You look about like I feel this morning.” Mac shoved his uniform cap back and tried to stifle a yawn. “Long night for everybody.”

      “At least you’re getting paid for it.” Nick came into the shop with Allison in time to hear his brother. “We volunteers do it because we’re civic-minded.”

      Mac snorted. “If you think my salary covers all the extra hours, Mr. Mayor, you’re dreaming.”

      Sarah smiled, knowing how Mac loved to tease his brother about his role as mayor of Laurel Ridge. “You boys behave, or I’ll tell your mother.”

      For an instant Allison looked left out, not having shared a childhood with them, but then Nick put his arm casually around her waist, and her eyes lit with her love for him.

      Nick focused on his brother. “Did you find anything at the fire scene this morning?”

      “Are you asking me to tell official secrets?”

      “No, I’m asking you to let us in on anything that half the town will know or guess before the day is out,” Nick retorted.

      “True enough,” Mac said. “And what they don’t know, they’ll make up, especially when the PSP fire marshal arrives.”

      “PSP?” Allison questioned.

      “Pennsylvania State Police,” Nick said. “So they’ve agreed to investigate?”

      Mac nodded. “The financial cost of last night’s fire, combined with the fact that it was third in a string of fires, convinced them. And the truth is, they have more expertise in investigating fires like this than anyone in the county.”

      “Arson fires.” Sarah said the words they were all thinking.

      “The one at Stoltzfus’s barn for sure.” Mac’s forehead wrinkled and he rubbed it, looking tired. “I’m no expert, but I found enough to convince me. I can’t prove anything one way or the other about the first two, but...”

      “But three fires in a space of a few days can’t be coincidence,” Nick said. Sarah looked at him more closely, realizing that one side of his face was reddened.

      “Nick, were you hurt last night? You look as if you were burned.”

      “He was, but he won’t give in and go to the doctor.” Allison’s arm tightened around him.

      “The