"I hope I'm wrong, but I have to be sure."

After a couple of minutes, the fenced area came into view, still covered in thick plastic sheeting. "I think Karl Kramer uses this place for storage," Annie said.

"It doesn't seem very convenient," Ruth observed.

"That's one of the pieces I haven't figured out." Annie scanned the area for guys in hard hats. "The coast is clear."

They circled around, while Annie tried to remember where the loose flap was that had given her access the last time.

"Annalise, I'm not sure about this," Ruth whispered.

"Here." Annie punched a hand through a slit, pushed aside thick plastic, and ducked through the fence. "Coming, Ruth?"

Ruth's head appeared. "What is this place?"

"Hurry up." Annie reached out and tugged on Ruth's wrist.

"Ow!"

"Shh."

"What are we doing here, Annalise?"

"There has to be something here."

"Like what?"

"Just look for something that doesn't belong."

Annie dragged her fingers along a pile of flooring underlayment and a carton of four nail guns. Next were two rolls of plush gray carpet and neat upright row of windows in three sizes, and beyond that a half dozen enormous rolls of black roof sheeting. A skid of concrete blocks seemed especially out of place. Ruth had taken her own path through the maze of construction supplies. Annie could see the top of her head as she moved along a makeshift aisle.

"Ruth? Are you finding anything?"

No answer.

"Ruth?"

"You'd better come here."

Thirty-Five.

Annie hustled around a stack of two-by-fours to kneel beside Ruth. "What is it?"

Ruth's arm was wedged between piles of three-inch PVC pipes banded in sets of six. When she pulled it out, her hand gripped a neatly folded cloth. When Ruth unfolded it on the ground, Annie saw that it was a shirt-an Amish shirt. Between its layers was a small case holding four small chisels.

"Joel's shirt!" Ruth said softly.

"Are you sure?"

Ruth nodded. "I remember the fabric. It was the only time Mamm tried dyeing cloth herself. She wasn't happy with the irregular color. She just made the one shirt. The rest went into quilts."

Annie fingered the fabric between thumb and forefinger. "The quilt on your bed has some of this."

"Right. Jacob's quilt, too."

"I think these tools belong to Rufus." Annie put the thought out of her mind that Beth Stutzman knew more about chisels than she did.

Ruth nodded. "He uses them for fine work."

"He replaced the set the last time he went to the Springs because he couldn't find it." Annie put her hand under the shirt so she could take the tools without touching them, wondering if fingerprints could be lifted from steel. She was not taking any chances. She folded the shirt around the set again. "We can go now."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have to talk to Joel."

"But Joel wouldn't have anything to do with the explosion."

Annie saw the protest in her friend's eyes, even in the dimness of the plastic shelter. "I'm afraid that remains to be seen."

Annie asked Ruth to drop her off at the end of the field where Joel was supposed to be working. Together they lifted the bicycle out of the Prius.

"Shouldn't I come with you?" Ruth said.

"I think it's less complicated if I go alone."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Go on to the house," Annie urged. "Your mamm will be glad to see you."

Ruth winced. "Not if I show up in a car."

"I told her I gave you my car."

"That's different from seeing me actually driving it."

"You have to tell her eventually."

Ruth nodded. "Right now, though, I want to go find Elijah. Don't tell anyone you saw me."

"Okay." Annie reached out and squeezed Ruth's hand. "Find a way to tell me how your talk goes."

Annie watched Ruth strap herself into the car and navigate carefully back to the road. Then she put the bundle in the basket on her bicycle and began to pedal across the field.

She found Joel right where he was supposed to be, kneeling to inspect a row of alfalfa that would be ready for harvest in a few more weeks. He stood as she approached. Annie took the shirt from the basket and laid her bike down.

Joel reached for the garment, and Annie moved it out of his grasp. "I'll be curious to hear what you have to say about this."

"It's an old shirt that Mamm gave to Edna for her boys," Joel said. "I have nothing to say anything about it."

Annie opened the shirt and revealed the tools. "How can you not say anything about this?"

"I am not accountable to you, Annalise." His eyes hardened.

"Would you rather explain this to the elders?" It was the worst threat Annie could think of at the moment.

Joel was unflapped. "I asked you to trust me, Annalise. I thought you did."

"That was before a bomb went off, and before I found your brother's missing tools."

"Why were you looking?"

Annie pressed her lips together and blew her breath out her nose. "I was there, remember? I was the one who saw what happened to Karl Kramer. I was the one checking to see if he was breathing. That gives me some rights."

"Rights. Not very Amish of you."

"A man has been injured, Joel. Give me a reason not to go straight to the police with what I suspect." Annie wrapped the shirt around the tools and used the sleeves to tie a vicious knot.

"Suspicions are all you have. What you need is a confession." Joel put one hand on the bundle. "I will fix this. I just need a little more time." He spread his fingers to take the shirt from her.

She snatched it back. "How much time?"

Joel looked up and swallowed hard. "Three days."

"Everyone hopes the police will get to the bottom of things before then. Including me."

Joel spread his hands. "I might not need three days. "

"I don't know if ultimatums are very Amish, either, but here's the deal." She untied the sleeve knot, opened the case, and removed the smallest chisel. "You get the shirt and the case. And three days. If you don't fix this by Saturday, then I will."

The moment Ruth pulled off the highway onto Main Street, she regretted the decision to drive into town. Old habits tugged. In fine weather, she and Elijah used to walk into town on any errand they could scrounge up in exchange for the miles of conversation. In chill or damp, they took a buggy and often Jacob. Periodically they would turn their heads toward each other in shy smiles. Their mothers seemed not to mind the hours they spent together. And why should they? Ruth and Elijah were sixteen when they found the wideness of their common ground-old enough to think of marriage. If their mothers had known how often they spoke of life beyond Amish bonds, they might have been less generous in assigning errands in town.

Ruth was startled by how much it pleased her to have a car. And a driver's license. These possessions made this trip into town inaugural. Until Annalise's gift of the Prius, Ruth never entertained car ownership. She still thought of herself as living plain. But now she would save hours every week by not having to arrange her life according to bus schedules, and she could go wherever she decided to go.

And that was the very thing that made owning a car objectionable to her own people. Independence of will. Pride of ownership. Ruth gripped the steering wheel, determined that driving a car would enrich her life, rather than subsume it.

She drove the length of Westcliffe's primary street, turning around only when she reached the sign that welcomed her to the adjoining community of Silver Cliff. Even before she glanced at the dashboard clock, Ruth knew she had most of an hour before she was supposed to meet Elijah. She could not bring herself to get out of the car, though. If she spoke to anyone, the conversation would drive straight to awkward and complicated. The English shopkeepers would assume she was more like them now than she actually was. Amish neighbors would say nothing impolite, but their lips would press together in disapproval.

Ruth made a series of left turns that took her to the short street Annalise lived on. She parked and turned off the engine in front of the narrow green house. She was not sorry she had come to see for herself that Annalise was all right. She had been calling Annalise's phone for two days and getting no answer, so finding Annalise on her bicycle on the side of the highway liberated her from what she had let herself imagine. A lost phone was all that kept Annalise from quelling Ruth's fears herself. And it was right to speak to Elijah face-to-face and impress upon him that he must stop contacting her. She only hoped she would be strong enough when she sat beside him on the rock.

And then there was Joel. Annalise had refused to allow Ruth to stay with her to confront Joel together. Ruth's imagination could not conjure a believable explanation for the tools wrapped in Joel's shirt. And Joel certainly had no business amid the stored construction supplies.

Ruth pushed the button that lowered the driver's side window a couple of inches. Fresh air blew across her face. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, imagining being with Elijah in just a few minutes with the words in her mind still too unformed to speak.

A rap on the window startled her.

Ruth sat up straight, straining against the seat belt, and saw her little brother's face pressed against the glass.

"Jacob!"

"See, Mamm," Jacob said, "it is Ruth."

Ruth released the seat belt and got out of the car. She knelt and let Jacob wrap his arms around her neck.

"He insisted he saw Annalise's car on Main Street," Franey said. "He was halfway down the block before I caught him. Then he said it was you in the car, not Annalise."

Ruth stood, stifling regret. "Hello, Mamm." She stepped forward to kiss her mother's cheek.

"So you are driving." Franey shifted a shopping bag to one hip.

"Yes."

"When I heard that Annalise gave you the car, I was not sure you would accept it."

"It was a gift. I would not want to be ungracious." Ruth scratched a temple.

"You know I am very fond of Annalise, but I am afraid she does not understand that she is complicating your life with such a gift, rather than simplifying it."

"I am already finding it to be a practical gift."

"You have always said you would remain plain at heart even though you want to live and work outside our community." Franey's shoulders dropped as she moved her head slowly from side to side.

"I still feel that way."

"But driving a car, Ruth. I don't understand." Franey wrapped both arms around the sack.

Jacob tugged at the back door. "Can I have a ride?"

"Jacob, no." Franey put a firm hand on her son's shoulder and pulled him away from the car. "Ruth may have her reasons, but this has nothing to do with you."

"Maybe another time," Ruth said.

"Please don't encourage him," Franey said.

"Maybe Ruth can drive us home," Jacob said. "Then we won't have to wait for Daed. He's taking a long time."

"Jacob, be patient. We should wait for your father to finish at the hardware store." Franey glanced back toward Main Street. "The house is open, of course. Ruth can go on ahead and we'll see her for supper."

Ruth winced. "I'm sorry, Mamm. I can't stay. I only came to be sure Annalise was all right. Elijah told me what happened. I'll speak with him, and then I have to go home. I have to be at work at six in the morning."

Ruth appreciated her mother's effort to smile through her disappointment.