Shamed (Kate Burkholder #11) - Linda Castillo Page 0,37

have a birth certificate for Elsie?”

She stiffens, raises her gaze to mine. “Why would you ask such a thing when a child is missing? Some silly piece of paper isn’t going to help you find her, is it?”

“It’s part of the process.” The words aren’t exactly true. But I don’t want her to become suspicious of me or my questions at this juncture.

Too late, a little voice whispers.

“I don’t have a birth certificate for Elsie,” she tells me. “We were going to file the paperwork. You know, the home birth document for the government. But … we just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Where she was born?” I ask.

Her eyes meet mine, misery boiling in their depths. But there’s something else there, too. A tangle of uncertainty, fear, and resentment. “Here. At the house.”

“You used a midwife?”

“I would have.” She looks down at her hands again. “Elsie came fast. There was no time. Mamm was here. She helped me through.”

“Which midwife were you going to use?”

“The one I used with the other children. Martha Hershberger.”

“Did you get prenatal care with Elsie?”

“These questions are not going to help you find my girl.” Impatience flares in her voice.

“Mrs. Helmuth.” I say her name firmly, but gently. “I’m not the enemy here. Please. I want to bring her home, too. If there’s something you haven’t told me—”

“I’ve told you everything.”

I give her a moment to calm down before moving on to my next question. “How well do you know your aunt? Mary’s sister, Marlene?”

The woman stares at me as if I’ve asked her about the weather or some recipe that has nothing whatsoever to do with the crisis at hand. “Aunt Marlene passed away years ago. I don’t see what she has to do with any of this.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s relevant and what’s not?” I say firmly.

She seems to sink more deeply into the chair, looks down at her hands in her lap. “I met Marlene once or twice when I was a girl. She was … a delicate thing. Didn’t come around much.”

“Delicate?” I ask. “You mean physically?”

“That was my general impression.”

“Did Marlene have kids?”

“Not that I know of.”

“What was your aunt’s last name?”

“Her maiden name was Byler, of course, same as Mamm’s. If she ever got married…” She shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Do you have any idea where she used to live?”

“I don’t know. I told you. I don’t know!” She struggles to her feet, staggers, grabs hold of the table.

I reach out to steady her, wondering if she’s eaten or slept, but she draws her arm away. “If you really want to find my little girl, Kate Burkholder, I suggest you stop asking all these foolish questions and get out there and look for her.”

* * *

I call Lois on the way to Pomerene Hospital. “I need you to dig up everything you can find on every member of the Helmuth family. There may not be much out there, since they’re Amish. But … I need for you to dig around a little, see if anything pops.”

“Can you give a hint what I’m looking for?”

“Anything to do with children. Deaths in the family. Marriages. Divorces.” I think about that a moment. “I’ve got Mona looking at Miriam’s sister, Marlene. She’s deceased, but I have a last name: Byler. Tell Mona to take look, see if there’s anything out there. Lois, I want you to take a look at the midwife, Martha Hershberger, too. Check to see if Hershberger has any problems with her certifications.”

“I’ll get right on it.” She pauses. “Oh, before I forget, that courier package from Holmes County General Health District came for you.”

Copies of the birth certificates. “Put it on my desk, will you?”

“You got it.”

I end the call as I slide into a parking space near the Emergency entrance. I’m distracted, thinking about Miriam Helmuth as I go through the double glass doors and take the elevator to the basement. What the hell aren’t you telling me? I simply can’t fathom why a mother would withhold information from the police when her little girl is missing and in danger. What secret is worth jeopardizing the life of your child?

The question pounds at my brain as I enter the reception area of the morgue.

“Hi, Chief.”

I look up to see Doc Coblentz’s administrative assistant rise to greet me. “Hey, Carmen.”

“I saw the Amber alert on my phone.” She extends her hand and we shake. “Any luck?”

“We’re pulling out all the stops.” I let my eyes

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