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and her eyes fixed on them.
    â€œAlways somethin’ bein’ born on a farm,” Ezra added, as if to assure his sister it was no big deal she hadn’t helped. He looked at her with something like fondness.
    Grady nudged me. Crap. I’d lost the thread of the conversation, too busy staring at Ezra while he was looking at his sister. I straightened up and took a manila folder out of my portfolio. “I have to ask you to look at this photo and tell me if yourecognize this girl. It’s a bit grim. I apologize for that, but it’s vital that we learn who she was.”
    The photo actually wasn’t too gruesome. It was a close-up picture of the dead girl’s face. Her eyes were open and staring but the blood on the skull wasn’t visible.
    Ezra looked at it for a long moment. He shook his head and pushed it across the table toward Martha. She glanced at it, shook her head hard, and looked away, uncomfortable.
    â€œYou’ve never seen this girl before? Are you certain?”
    â€œDon’t know her.” Ezra closed the folder and pushed it back toward me, but he didn’t look me in the eyes.
    Not that I’d expected a different answer, but these two were the last on Grimlace Lane we had to question, and I felt a burn of disappointment in my throat that we still had no idea who Jane Doe was.
    â€œRight. Last thing. You raise mules for sale?”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œDo you have customers come here? Buyers for the mules or anything else?”
    â€œPeople come by to see the mules sometimes, and sometimes they order them on the Internet and have a trailer pick ’em up.”
    â€œWhat about your carpentry?”
    â€œUsed to have furniture for sale on the farm but closed that up ’bout a year ago. Now I sell direct to the stores.”
    â€œWhat about the people who run the stores? Do they ever come here to pick the furniture up?”
    Ezra nodded. “Sometimes. And sometimes I take things in if they fit in the buggy. That’s what I did on Tuesday.”
    Grady spoke up. “We’d appreciate it if you could make us alist of any English who come by here, anyone at all that you can remember, even if it’s been a few years.”
    â€œDon’t know names for most the people who stopped by, but I can give you some.”
    â€œJust do the best you can.”
    I handed over a notepad we’d been using for the purpose and Ezra and Martha set to work on a list.
    â€”
    Ten minutes later, Ezra walked us out and stood in the doorway as we stepped off the porch.
    â€œThanks for the coffee,” I said. I paused, debating with myself. Then I dug a card out of my pocket. “If you can think of anything, anything related to the case or to last night, will you call me?”
    Ezra took the card and looked at it a moment too long, as if checking the spelling of my name or memorizing the number. When he looked up he met my eyes, and for a moment I saw something in them other than politeness or distance. It made my stomach flop over. I looked away.
    â€œIf I think of anything, I will.”
    â€œThanks,” I said brusquely as I turned to go.
    By the time I’d gotten into the passenger seat of Grady’s car, the door was closed and Ezra was gone.

CHAPTER 3
    Bread and Milk
    For the next three days we organized, correlated, and tracked down leads working from seven in the morning till after ten at night. Every name the Amish on Grimlace Lane had given us was checked out with the help of Detectives Hernandez and Smith. Though it was faster to call people, I preferred to go to their homes. You could tell a lot about someone by seeing where they lived and looking them in the eye while you asked questions. Most of the time, that personal touch yielded nothing of interest, but sooner or later it would. I was counting on it.
    One of our first stops was Ag Vet Associates. The place was pleasant and clean, and a receptionist confirmed that the