Chapter 6

McConnellsburg, Pennsylvania

Kevin Butcher:

“Holy Shit!” I said. What the devil is Kristen doing here? Then it hit me: it had to be another of Aunt Deborah’s twisted schemes. That bitch has been snooping around since she arrived. I had Kristen’s number in my address book. Hell, she could have gotten it from my answering machine. I rose to my feet and wiped my hands on a shop cloth. Kristen still knew how to dress, and she looked like a pin-up in her miniskirt, tight shirt, and heels. I glanced at Andrew; he stared at Kristen with a stupid looking grin on his face.

I turned back to Kristen and said, “Hi, Kris, I didn’t expect to see you anytime soon.”

Kristen took two more steps to close the distance. Both steps were perfect examples of female fluidity and grace in motion. She reached out a hand, each nail perfectly manicured, and poked my chest. She said, “Kevin, you never call me anymore.”

“I’m engaged, Kristen, and my fiancée is here.” For a fleeting instant, I thought she looked disappointed. If so, she recovered fast enough.

“What a coincidence,” she said, “I’m engaged, too. But I’ve always been more, um, flexible about relationships.” Her tone became serious. “Some woman called and left a voice mail. She said you were dying to see me.”

Damn Deborah, I needed to do something about her. What do I do with Kristen? How do I keep Rebecca away from her? Andrew is looking at her like she’s ... Oh, wait; sometimes if you have two problems, they can cancel each other. I smiled and said, “Kris, I’ve forgotten my manners.” I reach over and put my hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “This is my fiancée’s cousin, Andy.”

Kristen couldn’t help it; she had to turn on the charm for every man she met. It’s the way she’s wired. She lifted her gaze onto Andrew, and her bedroom eyes hit him like a freight train. Kristen held out her hand and said, “Hello, Andy. We’ve never met, have we?”

Andrew took her hand and raised it to his lips. He said, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Kristen glanced at me, and I did my best to look jealous and hurt. I didn’t need to be real convincing as subtlety is not one of her strong suits. I caught the wicked glint of triumph in her eyes as she took in my kicked puppy look. She’d show me what I missed. Kristen turned back to Andrew, “Tell me more, Andy, you have my complete attention.”

Now, how do I keep those two talking? First, let me give them some space. I backed away several steps and almost bumped into Rebecca. I felt her warmth a moment before she took my arm. “What’s going on, Kev?”

“Kristen decided to visit.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, I’m pretty sure Aunt Deborah arranged this. She expected you and Kristen to run off together.”

“Your aunt spends too much time fantasizing about my sex life.” I nodded at Kristen and Andrew. “Those two together must be driving her crazy.” A few moments later Deborah proved me right. The kitchen door opened and she called out for Andrew. She needed to call a second time before “Andy” stepped away from Kristen.

Kristen turned towards Rebecca and me. Her eyes locked onto Rebecca and she smiled. Her smile seemed genuine, even friendly; it had to be false.

Rebecca squeezed my arm and said, “Introduce us.”

I asked, “Are you sure?” But Rebecca took the lead and stepped up to Kristen, dragging me along with her. I made the introductions.

“Rebecca, may I introduce Ms. Kristen Macleod. Kristen, this is my fiancée, Miss Rebecca Schmidt.” They shook hands, and I watched Kristen, ready for her to misbehave.

Rebecca said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Rebecca.”

“Thank you, Rebecca, I’m Kristen. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t know about you and Kevin. I wouldn’t even be here, except some woman called me.”

Rebecca said, “It may have been my aunt who called you. She doesn’t like Kevin and tries to stir things up. I’ve wanted to meet you. Can you stay for a bit?”

Kristen looked from Rebecca to me, and back to Rebecca. She smiled. “I have all afternoon, but are you sure about this?”

Rebecca turned to me and said, “Kev, you can get back to working on Andrew’s car. Kristen and I will be on the porch.” The two of them walked off. Did I want them talking to each other? Did I have a choice?

Deborah Barie:

Deborah seethed; would none of her plans come to fruition? She stood in the kitchen, glaring out through the window. Andrew stood stupefied before Kevin Butcher’s former whore. Poor Rebecca had run outside to her “Kev.” Now, she grasped his arm with such desperation. And Kristen, with that dress, was the perfect whore.

She would make one more attempt to get Andrew back on track. She had to call several times before he backed away from the whore. Andrew stepped into the kitchen. Even now, in Deborah’s presence, Andrew’s eyes tracked Kristen through the window.

Deborah said, “What is wrong with you? You need to stay focused.”

He shook his head, “I think you’re wrong about Kevin.”

Deborah didn’t give Andrew a chance to continue. She said, “I saw you speaking with his last whore. Kristen had a husband until Kevin had his way with her. He seduced her, the same as he seduced your cousin. When Kristen wanted to marry him, Kevin spurned her.”

Outside in the driveway, Rebecca and Kristen stood talking. The two young women couldn’t be more different. Deborah said, “You see your cousin and what the future has in store for her. Just as Kevin has made one a whore, he will do the same to the other.”

Both girls walked together towards the porch. Kevin returned to Andrew’s car. Andrew said, “How can you know all this?”

“Mr. Butcher has slept with both. You can ask him yourself.”

Andrew stood straight. He stepped around his aunt and went back outside.

Kevin Butcher:

Andrew rejoined me a few minutes later. He alternated between watching me and stealing glances onto the porch. The ladies had taken seats where they could talk and keep an eye on us. He broke his silence and said, “Kristen is your ex-girlfriend? Man, Rebecca’s a sweetheart, but Kristen is—I don’t know what she is.”

“Yeah, Kristen is something special.”

How do I explain the difference? I said, “Kristen is all that and a bag of chips. Rebecca, however, is all that, a bag of chips, and a mug of hot chocolate while sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold winter night.”

He frowned, and looked thoughtful. Then glanced up at the porch, both girls noticed and waved. With Kristen, you saw legs, legs, and more legs, a snug fitting T-shirt, and ringlets of dark brown hair. In contrast, Rebecca appeared willowy. Her long cotton dress covered everything but her calves and her worn sneakers. In deference to her aunt, Rebecca wore her blonde hair in a bun underneath a small white prayer veil. If one girl had a halo, and the other horns, you couldn’t have had more difference.

I got back to work while Andrew kept to himself. The quiet stretched on, and I glanced up to check on him. He stared down at me, his face red. I said, “What?”

“You slept with Kristen, didn’t you?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Hey, my parents were married—before I was born.” Andrew continued to look angry, “What are you mad about now?”

“You’ve slept with both of them.”

Technically, Andrew had a point. In practice, Kristen and I never actually slept together. Oh, we snoozed for a few minutes between bouts, but she always left to go home to her husband. Not that I knew she had a husband, at least not at first. While Rebecca and I have slept together nearly every night since August. But, other than playing around, we hadn’t “slept together, slept together.” I answered his question honestly and said, “Yes, b—”

As I’ve mentioned before, Andrew stands a few inches taller than me, and he has a muscular build. I knew he had farm boy strength, but I didn’t appreciate it in full until he grabbed me by the back of my pants and shirt. He hoisted me like a bale of hay and tried to throw me over the front of his van.

“—ut, WHOOOA!” I yelled. I didn’t quite clear the car. Instead, my shoulder and hip landed on the hood and fender, and I bounced back onto the driveway.

From a distance, I heard the front door open. Rebecca and Kristen shouted their alarm. Much closer, Andrew bellowed, “I’m going to beat you to a pulp.”

I shook my head to clear it, and scrambled up on top of his car, then back down over the other side. Crap, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I didn’t intend to take a beating. I let him chase me around his car before I backed away onto my lawn. I held my hands up, palms out. I said, “Andrew, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Aunt Deborah stepped out onto the porch. She yelled, “Smite him, Andrew. Smite him!” Andrew lowered his head and charged. I was in for a smiting.

Until now, I’d only tried this in a gym, on a padded floor with another trained martial artist. When Andrew reached for me, I grabbed the front of his shirt, planted a foot in his belly, and fell backwards. At the right moment, I kicked hard, and Andrew spun over my head, his arms, and legs flailing. He continued to bellow; only now his bellow had a plaintive sound.

Andrew hit the ground, hard, and the earth moved.

Rebecca ran up and knelt next to me. She said, “What happened? I’ve never seen anything like that. You threw Andrew over your head!” I tipped my head back to check on Andrew. Kristen knelt next to him asking about his condition. Someone, but not me, needed to tell her not to kneel and bend over wearing that skirt. Rebecca noticed where I looked and thumped my arm.

How can I explain this? “Um, Andrew suffered a misunderstanding.”

Andrew groaned out, “I didn’t misunderstand anything. You sleep with every woman you meet!”

I thought about Aunt Deborah standing there on my porch and shuddered. “I haven’t slept with Aunt Deborah!”

Berks County District Attorney’s Office:

“What do you have for me, Detective Robertson?” asked the new Berks County District Attorney. This new DA wanted to clean up the county He rubbed his hands together, eager to start.

“My young friend, Grainger Thomas, changed his statement. He has identified Ronald Thomas and Klaus Hanslein Junior as his assailants. Klaus administered the beating and Ronald devised this complicated little coverup.”

The DA opened the folder and read Grainger’s revised statement. He looked up and said, “All this because the younger Hanslein wanted his girlfriend back?”

“Not exactly; the younger Hanslein has a history of aberrant sexual behavior. On at least one occasion he sexually assaulted Miss Schmidt. They were never boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Sexual assault? Was he charged?”

Detective Robertson grimaced, “No sir, your predecessor declined to bring charges forward.”

“Why do I think you left something unsaid, Detective?” Detective Robertson grinned but remained quiet. “All right then, breaking the Hanslein gang is near the top of my priority list. What do you want me to do?”

Detective Robertson smiled. The previous DA had been an honest politician, once bought, he stayed bought. This new DA was a breath of fresh air. “A reliable confidential informant reported Klaus Hanslein Junior and Ronald Thomas are in a cabin adjacent to the state game lands. Ownership of the cabin is complicated so we’ll need a search warrant to allow us to enter the premises. We’ll also need arrest warrants for both individuals.” He handed over another folder. “This is my statement of probable cause and a statement from the confidential informant. Those coupled with Grainger Thomas’s revised statement should get us the warrants.”

“And I need to see the judge myself? Because you feel we have a leak, am I correct?”

“Yes sir, the fewer who know about this, the better. Sir, I have one more item.” The DA made a “give it to me” gesture. “I promised Grainger I would ask you to not press charges against him.”

“Yes, well he did take a severe beating. I will take that under advisement. What is his current status?”

“This may be a surprise, but...”

Kevin Butcher:

Rebecca helped me stand up, and we stepped over to check on Andrew. He looked embarrassed. Andrew said, “Yeah, she got me again.”

I offered him a hand, he took it, and I pulled him to his feet. Andrew kept my hand and said, “I’m sorry, Kevin, I should know better.” We shook, and he shrugged towards Aunt Deborah. “She knows how to push my buttons.”

“What did she tell you this time?”

Andy glanced at Rebecca and at Kristen before answering. He shook his head and said. “Just more of her bull and I fell for it.”

“So, we’re OK?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s cool. Take a break; sit on the porch with the ladies. Rebecca, my hands are filthy, can you get him a drink and an Advil? I’ll get Andy’s car finished.”

Rebecca brought the drinks. She then walked over to keep me company and hand me tools. Rebecca said, “Kristen told me her fiancé doesn’t mind if she has flings, so long as she tells him all about it.”

“I’ve heard about guys like that. It creeps me out. So, don’t get any funny ideas.”

I felt her hands on my shoulders a moment before she kissed the top of my head. She said, “I’ve got lots of ideas, but not about that.” I nodded and kept working.

Several minutes later, Rebecca mused, “I don’t know how Kristen can walk in those shoes.”

“You could ask her. Maybe she’ll give you lessons.”

Rebecca paused and thought about it. “Would you want me to dress like her?”

For a moment, I imagined Rebecca dressed like Kristen. I filed the image away for future reference.

“Sweetheart, I love you just the way you are. Although, sometime after we’re married, if you wanted to tart yourself up some night and surprise me, I don’t think I’d turn you down.”

She bumped me with her knee. “Maybe I’d want you to tart yourself up.”

“Like a Chippendale?”

“What’s a Chippendale?” Of course, Rebecca hadn’t heard of the Chippendale dancers. Did I dare ask Kristen to take her to one of their shows? How worldly did I want my wife to be? Well, she can be as worldly as she wants to be.

“I’ll show you a video later.”

We finished Andrew’s van at the same time the mail arrived. Rebecca checked and found the letter we waited for. Andrew needed to test drive his new brakes, and Kristen volunteered to go along. After they left, Rebecca and I washed up before retiring to the porch. Aunt Deborah had long since reentered the house to watch Doctor Oz, but she followed us outside.

“Do you think something happened to Andrew?” asked Rebecca. Most test drives take ten to fifteen minutes; Andrew and Kristen’s “Test Drive” has lasted almost an hour. Rebecca and I sat in adjacent rocking chairs at the far end of the front porch.

I chuckled and said, “They may have stopped somewhere to ‘talk’.”

My fiancée reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. Aunt Deborah sat on the opposite end of the porch, glaring out at the road. Today had not been a good day for her. I spoke to Rebecca, but loud enough for her aunt to overhear. “Some people don’t believe in love at first sight. But, after watching Andy and Kristen, I think it actually happens.” Deborah twitched but disdained to respond.

Rebecca said, “Did you fall in love with me at first sight?” I caught her glance at her aunt. Now both of us were baiting her.

“I did, but I needed to be careful. Your dad is a big guy. I didn’t want to end up like the punchline to a Farmer’s Daughter joke.”

Rebecca turned to me with a serious expression. She asked, “There are jokes about Farmer’s Daughters?” It only then occurred to me she hadn’t heard any of those jokes. She may not have heard any dirty jokes at all.

I said, “There are jokes about men, usually traveling salesmen, who fool around with the farmer’s daughter. It often doesn’t end well for the man.”

“Can you tell me one?”

Aunt Deborah turned and said, “Yes Mr. Butcher, please tell us a Traveling Salesman and the Farmer’s Daughter joke.”

Uh oh, I thought about it and came up with an idea. Grinning, I glanced from Aunt Deborah to Rebecca. I said, “There are a bunch, but my favorite is the one about the traveling technician who needed to rent a room. The farmer had a lovely, blue-eyed, and blonde haired, daughter who tormented the technician with lewd suggestions.”

Rebecca laughed and said, “I never made lewd suggestions!”

“Oh, it gets better; the farmer also had a crazy sister who spent all her time trying to keep the daughter away from—” The sound of a vehicle saved me from completing my story. Andrew’s van pulled into the driveway and stopped. Kristen hopped out and walked towards us. Aunt Deborah strode towards Andrew, but he backed out and drove away. Deborah stood in the driveway and watched Andrew go.

Kristen said, “Andy and I are going back to my place to watch something on Netflix. It was nice meeting you, Rebecca. Give me a call sometime if you want to get a coffee. Bye!”

Deborah turned back and closed with Kristen. She demanded, “What have you done to Andrew?”

Kristen side-stepped to keep her distance from Deborah. She said, “I recognize your voice; you left the voice mail. Look, I don’t know why you’re stirring up shit for Rebecca and Kevin, but thanks helping me meet Andy.”

“What about Andrew?” Deborah asked, but Kristen ignored her and left. Deborah stormed into the house.

The three of us spent the rest of the day packing. Aunt Deborah stewed and kept to herself. Rebecca and I took turns exchanging lewd suggestions and generally tormenting each other. Both of us had a lot of fun. I found out Rebecca goes crazy if tickled behind her knees. I admit I’m a dog, but I love having a fiancée who only wears dresses. I couldn’t wait to take her to the drive-in.

Later, fresh from our showers, we retired to our bed in the trailer. I teased Rebecca into picking out her favorite lewd suggestion.

Andrew didn’t show in the morning, and he wouldn’t answer anyone’s phone calls. Deborah chose to return with us to the Schmidts’ farm.

Travel with Aunt Deborah turned out to be challenging. For a woman of such an indomitable nature, she did not travel well. Besides a suddenly delicate constitution which needed frequent rest stops, she also issued commands intended to correct my poor driving skills. I pulled into every gas station and rest stop and waited while Deborah used the facilities.

During one of these stops, Rebecca asked me to buy some women’s magazines for her to share with her friends. I bought copies of Cosmopolitan, Vogue, and Women’s Health. If the cover mentioned an article about sex, I bought it. I also bought a copy of Playboy and made sure it sat on top of the stack. Rebecca eyed the bag, and I gave her a thumbs-up.

At the next restroom stop, Rebecca refused to go with Deborah to the bathroom.

Aunt Deborah said, “Come along, Rebecca.”

Rebecca said, “No, thank you, I’ll wait here with Kevin.”

Deborah paused with one leg out of my truck. I imagined her worrying about leaving Rebecca alone with me. Rebecca tuned out her aunt and ignored further requests. Deborah scurried off to the bathroom.

Rebecca reached for the bag of magazines. She said, “I want to see what you bought.” She looked inside. “Playboy? You bought Playboy?”

“It has great articles.”

“Yeah, right.” Rebecca flipped through the magazine and stopped near the center. “Oh, my goodness, she isn’t wearing anything.” She flipped another page. “She has a tattoo there? Wouldn’t that hurt?”

“Let me see, I’ll know if it’s a tattoo.”

“Never mind!” Rebecca’s cheeks were a bright pink. She stuffed the Playboy back into the bag and removed another magazine, this time a Cosmopolitan. Rebecca scanned the cover then flipped pages looking for the index. While she read, she kicked her shoes off and turned sideways on the seat.

Traces of my fiancée’s wildflower cologne wafted to me, and I entertained myself by rubbing her ankles. I caught her peeking around the magazine, and said, “If you were my wife, I’d have my way with you right here.”

“Oh yeah? Here, in broad daylight?”

“I’d start by kissing you from your feet...” I picked up one of her feet and pressed my lips to her instep. When I looked up to see if she watched, I saw Aunt Deborah glaring at me from the outside of my truck.

Klaus Hanslein Senior, Hanslein Farm:

Joseph Waters, Klaus Hanslein Senior’s longtime lawyer, brought up the next item of business. He said, “Our business partners in Philadelphia are asking about the next delivery.”

“About time, when and where?” Klaus Senior asked.

“Next Thursday night, at the club in Fairhill.”

“Shit, next Thursday? Fucking fine, but this is the last time I tie up so much cash. Hey, you got anything from the cops about my moron son?”

“Nah, it’s all quiet.”

“Huh.”

“Have you decided what you want to do about them?”

“A smart man would have let Joey clean up the mess, but I’m too much of a kind-hearted and loving father.”

“You don’t think they’ll fuck with the product we have stashed there?”

“Junior knows to stay out of the locked rooms. Still, someone needs to run some food up and check on them. I’ll take care of it.”

Kevin Butcher:

Rebecca called her mother after we exited the turnpike and gave her our ETA. Deborah continued to sleep but woke after I made the turn onto the Schmidts’ gravel lane. Rebecca brightened as her house and parents came into view. Jonathan and Rachel stepped down from the porch as we came to a stop. Rebecca jumped out and ran to meet her parents.

By the time I rounded the front of my truck Jonathan and Rachel had their daughter wrapped up in a three-way hug.

Inside my truck, Deborah struggled with the seat belt. I opened the back door, reached across her and pushed the release. Deborah gasped and stiffened as my arm passed through her personal space. I said, “Don’t flatter yourself; I want you out of my truck, and out of my life.”

“That is easy to accomplish, Mr. Butcher. Break off your relationship with Rebecca and leave.”

“Ha, no way. Hey, what do you think Andrew got into last night?”

“I pray Andrew’s godliness shielded him from sin.”

“If Andrew’s godliness is on par with yours, Kristen might have had difficulty walking this morning.”

Deborah stared for a few seconds as she parsed my meaning. Her stare became a hard glare, and her head snapped around to her brother. Deborah inhaled and said, “Jonathan!”

Jonathan, who was busy wiping Rebecca’s face with his handkerchief, looked up to his sister. He said, “Yes, Deborah?”

“Mr. Butcher insulted me. He needs to leave.” She said this with a rather imperious tone.

Jonathan glanced at his sister, then to me, and back to his daughter. Rebecca shook her head. Rachel glared at Deborah with a fierceness that belied her peaceful, non-confrontational, religion. Without looking up from his daughter, Jonathan said, “Deborah, I’m sure you’re exhausted from your trip. You should lie down.” Rachel nodded in agreement.

Deborah looked from Jonathan to Rachel, and back to Jonathan. She did not look at me. She said, “You don’t mean that! You can’t permit this,” Deborah shrugged in my direction, “degenerate to insult me.”

With a noticeable reluctance, Jonathan stepped away from his daughter. He patted Rebecca on her shoulder and stepped over to us. Ignoring his sister’s words, he held out his hand, and we shook. He said, “Welcome home, Kevin.”

“Thank you, Mr. Schmidt. It’s nice to be here.”

“Will you help me carry her bags inside and get everything put away?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Schmidt frowned and said, “A simple ‘Yes’ will do, and call me Jonathan from time to time, please. You are family.”

I resisted the urge to glance at Deborah and gauge how well she took Jonathan’s welcoming me back. But I already took a chance and claimed a victory. I’d take another shot at her later.

Jonathan and I started by double teaming Deborah’s seemingly solid steamer trunk. As we climbed the front porch steps, Grainger Thomas stepped out and held the screen door open for us. Seeing Grainger here surprised me, and I stumbled. Jonathan paused to give me a chance to recover. He glanced at both of us and said, his voice deadpan, “You two know each other, don’t you?”

As I passed Grainger, he and I exchanged wary nods. Jonathan filled me in on Grainger’s defection as we maneuvered Deborah’s trunk upstairs. I didn’t know Mrs. Schmidt and Rebecca visited Grainger in the hospital. Then, after Rebecca and I left, Mrs. Schmidt continued her visits. Her unbiased compassion, without strings, touched Grainger, and he recanted his original story. After turning against his former associates, Grainger now feared for his life. The hospital released Grainger, and the Schmidts offered him a safe place to stay.

“Wait, why does Grainger fear for his life?”

“You don’t know about Junior’s father, Klaus Hanslein Senior. Let’s get this luggage moved, and I’ll tell you all about him.” Jonathan led the way back to the truck. We picked up Grainger along the way.

My mind flashed back to that Friday night at the county fair. Rebecca struggling while Grainger and his brother Ronnie restrained her. Now Grainger wanted to be one of the good guys, and I was going to have to go along with it. I couldn’t wait to hear what Rebecca thought.

The three of us made short work of the remaining luggage. Jonathan said, “I’m sorry we’re bumping you and Rebecca out of your room. Rachel and I thought about keeping you in here and putting Deborah into Rebecca’s room. But, this arrangement will keep my sister calmer. Rachel and I will talk to Deborah. In the meantime, please avoid stirring her up.”

“It’s your house, Jonathan, I’ll behave as long as she does.”

“I don’t suppose you could maintain your calm even if she does not?”

“Mr. Schmidt, while your sister was our guest she pushed Rebecca and me pretty hard. She is no longer our guest, and I will find it difficult to maintain a courteous demeanor if she does not.” My choice of a formal address did not go unnoticed.

“I understand. It might be easier if you understood Deborah better. She had a difficult experience as a teen, and it still affects her. I’ll discuss it with Rachel; if she approves, we can tell you two the story.”

With Jonathan’s direction, we set up my travel trailer alongside their garage. He even snaked an extension cord through a window for power. The three of us pulled up chairs near the garage door.

Jonathan said, “Grainger, tell Kevin why you’re afraid of the Hansleins.”

Grainger looked up and said, “Klaus’s dad is one of the big drug dealers in this area. He won’t like me ratting out Junior.”

Jonathan said, “Thank you, Grainger. Besides drugs and God knows what else, the Hansleins have also extorted the Mennonite farmers in this area. They know we are non-confrontational pacifists and take advantage of it. They threaten to harm our families or our farms unless we pay protection money.”

“Including you?” I asked.

He nodded. “Including me. My father had an arrangement with Klaus Senior’s father, Wilhelm Hanslein. Whatever those terms were, they died with my father. After Dad passed, Klaus Senior paid a call and explained the terms. You know about Klaus Junior’s infatuation with Rebecca?” I nodded.

Grainger spoke up, “Junior hardly ever talks about anything else. He’ll tell you how much he loves her and wants to fuck her. Then he’ll talk about raping her and beating her to death.” Jonathan and I stared at Grainger. When he finished talking, he noted our shocked expressions. “Oh shit,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shook his head and said, “Grainger, please, I don’t think we needed to hear about it in so much detail.” Grainger nodded and looked back down.

I said, “Grainger, we’ll talk later. I want to hear all the details.”

“Kevin,” Jonathan said, “I hope you won’t do anything confrontational.”

“God helps those who help themselves,” I said.

“That phrase is not from the Bible. It originated with a man named Algernon Sydney, back in the 1600s. Kevin, please do not resort to violence.”

I remained non-committal, and Jonathan continued his story.

“Some time ago, Klaus Junior had the effrontery to call on me and ask permission to court Rebecca. I sent him packing. Several weeks passed before his father paid a visit. Senior offered to exempt me from his protection racket. I only needed to give my ‘worthless’ daughter to his son.” Jonathan paused for a moment. “Before I met Rachel, I courted a young woman named Naomi Miller. Naomi attracted the attention of Klaus Hanslein. His father, Wilhelm, paid Naomi’s father to break off our courtship and marry her to Klaus Hanslein.”

“Wait, Junior’s mother was once your girlfriend?”

Jonathan nodded “Yes, she was. No one has seen Naomi in a long time. Some folks say she left an abusive husband. But I can’t imagine Naomi leaving her child behind.”