The Missing Amish Neighbor: A collection of Amish Romance

By Hannah Winstone

An unidentified body is found on an isolated Amish country road. 
The County Sheriff's Department sends out its newest homicide investigator -Sheriff Dotson. 
The Sheriff comes upon a puzzling scene with very little clues and no clear motive. 

Experienced at working murder cases, Dotson finds himself with a different problem - he feels as if he's in a foreign land. 
People in the Amish town aren't forthcoming and finding the killer will test him in ways he never expected. 
Can he charm the Amish people and solve this case...even if he finds himself attracted to the number one suspect...an Amish woman who on the surface is as sweet as can be...but may be holding a deadly secret.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trellis Publishing
• Release date: Jun 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201557683

Book preview

THE MISSING AMISH NEIGHBOR

HANNAH WINSTONE

table of contents

THE MISSING AMISH NEIGHBOR

HANNAH’S AMISH BABY

UNCOMMON AMISH GROUND

THE WEDDING DRESS

HER AMISH ROMANCE

AN AMISH STRENGTH

THE AMISH COVENANT

Eddie Dotson stepped over the threshold to the little home, deftly avoiding the yellow police tape and carefully placed markers. As the newest homicide detective he had a duty - but also a personal desire to solve this newest case. If he wanted to prove himself, he was going to have to put everything into his first case.

Except, the moment he stepped out of his car, Eddie knew it wasn't going to be so easy. The town was small - tiny, even, more of a village, and a far cry from the city he was so used to. Not to mention every single member was Amish. His experience with Amish people was... well, non existent.

Yet Eddie kept his head high as he strode into the house, already sweeping the area. The murder victim lay in the old fashioned living room, the blood surrounding him already long dried into the carpet. Forensics were already on the scene, clad in white gloves as they surveyed the body. 

Detective Dotson.

He turned, smiling slightly as he caught sight of Detective Eva Petrov - new to this county too, although she had certainly still been there for longer than Eddie. Yes, what is it? he questioned.

I thought I'd give you the run down, before we begin. The victim is Ezekiel Ramseyer. Thirty years old, lived alone. Eva cast a glance backward, eyeing the body as if she expected it to move. For a Detective, she was unusually squeamish. With a wince, she turned back to Eddie and continued, "stab wounds to the ribs, possibly from behind. There's a startling lack of evidence."

Whoever did this cleaned up well, then?

Yes. The murder was clumsy, poorly executed - which indicates they aren't a repeat offender - but they still took the time to clean up after.

Hod odd, he mused, lips curling into a frown. This was going to be difficult, then. Far more difficult than he would have liked for his first investigation here. Yes, Eddie was a skilled Detective and had been doing this for years - but an Amish community in a county he barely knew? That was a lot of unknown territory.

...Dotson?

Springing back to attention, he let out a nervous laugh. Sorry, I must have zoned out.

Eva rolled her eyes, but a smile curved at the corner of her lips. She was a slender woman, tall and narrow not unlike Eddie himself - but despite her thin features there was always a warmth to her. I said, she repeated, that we should sweep the place before forensics take over.

He nodded, and the two got to work. He swept the living room first, kneeling down by the body to inspect. Just as Eva had said, Ezekiel Ramseyer was a bloody mess. He counted six stab wounds to the ribs, one of which had managed to shatter the lowest rib entirely. The blood had long congealed, but so far the body hadn't begun to rot. This was recent, possibly committed less that twelve hours ago. 

Next he surveyed the room itself, for a stashed weapon or fingerprints. Nothing. Despite the messy murder, there was nothing left behind. Not even a shred of fabric or loose strand of hair. No break in either, every window was locked and intact. As were the doors. Had the murderer been a friend, someone who had been invited in? No, Ezekiel had no family - and going by the hundreds of books on the shelves and complete lack of photographs, he rarely went out. What if-

Detective Dotson, I've got something.

Eddie followed Eva's voice into the kitchen, intrigued by her eagerness. There she stood by the back door - which he saw led to a small, rustic garden - gloved hands resting on her hips.

At her feet, right by the door, lay their only piece of real evidence. One muddy footstep, smeared as if to hide it, but nonetheless obvious in the bright afternoon light.  

It's a woman's, Eva informed him with a pleased nod, there's just one, so it isn't much, but it's the only thing we've got so far.

Eddie knelt, squinting as he surveyed the print. He felt silly for the relief that swelled inside him, the gratefulness for this one tiny piece of evidence. He let himself enjoy it for a moment, grinning wide - before snapping back into professional mode. 

One footstep -  a woman's boot, size five or six. There was no heel, and the sole was plain - Eddie had the feeling half the women in this town owned this exact pair of shoes or something similar. Yet he didn't allow this knowledge to diminish the little spark of excitement in his chest.

Detectives?

Both turned, gazes cast toward a young man in forensics gear. He looked nervous, eyes darting between him and Eva and his head lowered. Eddie stood, doing his best to smile reassuringly as he said, yes?

We've taken samples, but there isn't much to go on. We didn't find any prints and well, that living room is kind of a mess. I guess Mister Ramseyer wasn't one for tidying up.

Eddie's expression softened. Thanks anyway. Maybe forensics will have good news for us soon.

I hope so, sir. 

The boy scuttled off, leaving Eddie and Eva to their investigation. 

I'm going to start taking statements, Eva said with a heavy sigh, though with our luck, no one will have seen a thing.

He only hummed in agreement. Maybe we'll strike lucky, he replied with no real conviction. This entire case seemed like a dead end and it had barely begun. His earlier relief was starting to wane, leaving him with a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. How disappointing.

Eddie barely acknowledged as Eva slipped from the room, even as she waved goodbye. Lips pursed he turned to follow her out - and then caught sight of a mass of blonde hair as his eyes swept past the open front door.

Was someone lurking outside? No one else seemed to have noticed, but Eddie could have sworn he saw a blonde woman by the front steps. Marching forward he ignored the guy from forensics trying to get his attention, beelining for the small porch outside.

There she stood, hovering just out of sight of the hall, wringing her hands around the thick fabric of her dull navy dress. Her blonde hair looked like it had been bundled underneath her kapp but bright, summery strands fell loose around her round face. 

I'm sorry ma'am but this is an ongoing investigation. You can't be here.

Bright eyes darted up - were they black, or deep, warm brown? He couldn't tell - and she smiled awkwardly. Oh, I apologise! Ezekiel was a neighbour of mine, and I just wanted to... wanted to see what was going on, but no one would tell me anything.

Eddie's expression softened and he smiled, reassuring. Well I'm afraid I can't tell you much myself. Mostly because he didn't know himself. The lack of evidence was still a fresh wound. But, he continued after a beat, we're doing our best to find out what happened, no need to worry. Were you close to Mister Ramseyer?

A small shrug was all he received in response. Not particularly. He wasn't... wasn't very liked in the community I'm afraid. He was always a bit of a shut in, never socialised save for church. Not to mention he was sometimes rude to the women.

Oh? Eddie tilted his head in thought, regarding the woman. What did you say your name was, ma'am?

She blinked, and he swore a light flush graced her features. Sophia Knepp, she replied. She still insisted on fidgeting with her dress, tugging the long sleeves over her hands and worrying at a loose hem. Her neighbour had just been killed, it was only natural to be on edge - but there was something off about the way she refused to meet her eyes. 

He shrugged it off for now, if only because he needed her information. You said he wasn't liked around her. Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt him? Eddie questioned, anyone he's really made angry recently.

Sophia stuttered for a moment, eyes furrowed as if searching her brain for a suitable answer. Then, no, I don't think so. Like I said, he doesn't go out much and I haven't heard anyone complain recently. I'm sorry.

No need to apologise, Eddie replied honestly. Well, so much for that lead. Who would want to murder someone who was never even seen in public? Is there anything else you can tell me about him?

Shifting, Sophia cast her gaze to the  ground. It was almost as if she was considering how much she should tell - or perhaps he was looking into it too much. Without the much needed evidence, he couldn't do a thing anyway. Eventually Sophia huffed a sigh and admitted, he's been known to try and make passes at the women in church, even married women. I couldn't tell you who, it's only rumours, but he has a bit of a reputation for that sort of thing. Sophia shuddered and grimaced.

Well, it certainly wasn't much to go on - but it connected the ladies footprint to something, at least. Was the murderer someone he had harassed? It seemed likely. Unfortunately for him it was impossible to question every woman in this Amish community and he didn't have a single name.

Except perhaps, for Sophia herself. Although he kept that thought to himself - for there was no way to to know for sure without evidence - something about her was just... wrong. She was too curious, too vague with her information. Eddie filed this information away for later.

Sophia shifted, peeking over Eddie's shoulder and into the house. Various people from the Sheriff's Department milled about and when she realised there was nothing to see, she leaned back. I know you can't tell me much, she began with a sweet smile, but would you tell me how he died?

"And why would you want to know that? Eddie snapped, harsher than intended. Then, wincing at his own rudeness he continued, it isn't information we can give out right now."

Oh, of course. Eddie wondered if the disappointment on her face was real, or just his imagination. She pursed her lips, eyes downcast, and shuffled backward. I should probably go, she murmured to the ground, I'm sorry for wasting your time.

Just hold on. Eddie reached out to stop her, hand landing on her shoulder without thought. I'll need your address and phone number in case I need to contact you again.

Oh, Sophia replied, eyes snapping wide. "Well I don't have a phone... Yet she rattled off her address without complaint as Eddie scribbled it down in his notepad - and then edged away. My daughter Phoebe is by herself and she doesn't know what's happened yet. May I go?"

Eddie quirked a brow, but nodded. Sure. Thank you.

Sophia nodded, a shy smile curving at her lips. Then she scurried off down the road, disappearing just as suddenly as she arrived.

"Who was that?" 

Eddie startled at the voice - only to let out a snort of laughter as Eva Petrov appeared in the doorway. The wind ruffled her short ginger hair - as it did his own dark chestnut curls - as she stepped outside.

Sophia Knepp. Nice enough, but there's something weird about her, he replied with a shrug.

Then we keep an eye on her, just in case, Eva replied solemnly. Pretty woman like her, young too, I hope she hasn't done anything stupid.

Agreed. Eddie watched Eva for a moment, thoughts still on Sophia - but then the eager young voice of the forensic's boy called to them and he snapped from his thoughts. I guess we should get back to work.

Eva nodded, turning to slip back into the now crowded house. Eddie cast his gaze back one last time, half expecting to see Sophia lurking nearby once more, and then followed Eva inside.

——————————

Eddie returned to the little Amish town the next day, and the day after that, and so on, until there wasn't an inch of the entire place he didn't know like the back of his hand. He had become a familiar sight for most of the residents, not just due to his questions but his peculiar way of wandering the street outside of the crime scene when he needed to think.

Yet not once did he see Sophia Knepp.

By the end of the week, Eddie was at his wits end. 

He found himself outside of the cramped little house that once belonged to Ezekiel Ramseyer. Although the body had long since been moved and the police