Off the Grid (Amish Safe House, Book 1) by Ruth Hartzler

Author:Ruth Hartzler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian romance, amish, amish romance, amish fiction, amish denomination, amish fiction romance, christian romance suspense
Publisher: Ruth Hartzler

Proverbs 11: 14.

Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety.

Chapter 11.

Kate was well aware that criminals often went to the funerals of their victims. Sometimes it was out of guilt. Sometimes it was to reassure themselves that the deed was done. Oftentimes however, they would go just to examine their handiwork.

Kate had seen her fair share of funerals, both while on the case and to honor the fallen. Very few in her line of work ever avoided going to at least one in the course of their career. She'd seen everything from simple ceremonies to elaborate ones with two mile processions and giant cathedrals. These particular ones lasted most of a day, with a great deal of singing and speeches and other events. People meandering around and making scenes at the gilded caskets to show their devotion to the deceased, others dipping their heads checking their phones when they thought no one was paying attention.

She had never attended a funeral in a living room, however. It was definitely a new experience. She studied the plain wooden box that sat in front of the fireplace. In general the room was very plain. There were a couple wood carvings on the mantle of the fireplace, and a vase that likely belonged to his late wife. There were no giant wreaths or banners or other grand gestures typically seen back in the city – there weren’t even any flowers.

Kate checked the grandfather clock in the corner, trying not to cringe at the slow passage of time. She had never realized how tedious a funeral could be. There was no singing, no distracted whispering. In fact the whole thing was being carried out with a great deal of quiet dignity. Everyone listened attentively to the second minister as he spoke at great length, his talk interjected with scriptures and lessons. There was no eulogy, no speaking about the deceased. There were no bored sighs, no gossiping whispers, no theatrics. It was both inspiring and surreal at the same time.

The room did not look all that different from the cottage she was living in. A bit more lived in perhaps, but it was just as barren of modern technology. The same utilitarian homemade furniture and décor. There was nothing that struck her as odd, save for the plain pine box sitting open in front of course.

So why did someone come out into Amish territory to attack an old widowed man who kept to himself? The attacker was hardly skilled, but he didn't strike her as a common punk. Why in the barn? She tried to think back to the scene. There were tools that might have been of value of course. The thug could easily have stolen what they liked after the man went to bed. There was no need to kill an elderly man in broad daylight. The man was too unskilled in combat to have been in it for the kicks either. If they

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