Gone Missing (Kate Burkholder 4)

dog, which has apparently been barred access to visitors.
    At the counter, Stoltzfus turns to us and shoves his hands into his pockets. “You want some coffee or something?” He motions to a small table that’s not quite large enough for three people.
    “We’re fine.” Tomasetti’s smile looks like a snarl.
    Stoltzfus is an unassuming man with a quiet demeanor. He’s wondering why we’re here. His eyes shift from Tomasetti to me and he begins to fidget. I wonder why he’s so nervous.
    Tomasetti lets him sweat for a minute before asking his first question. “I understand you run an Underground Railroad for young people wanting to leave the Amish way.”
    “Underground Railroad?” Stoltzfus laughs, but it’s a tight, tense sound.
    Tomasetti glowers. “What’s so funny?”
    Stoltzfus’s Adam’s apple bobs twice. “I’ve never heard it put like that. It sounds kind of dramatic.”
    “Why don’t you clear things up for us and just tell us what you do,” I say.
    His eyes flick again from Tomasetti to me. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
    “We just want to know how you work.” I offer my best girl-next-door smile. “Why don’t you start by telling us how you find the young people who need help.”
    My reassurance seems to bolster him and he calms down. “Word of mouth, mostly. Buck Creek is a small town. People talk, and that includes the Amish. I usually hear about it when one of these kids wants to leave.”
    “How do you make contact?”
    “Usually, they contact me.”
    “You used to be Amish?” I ask.
    He looks down, and I realize whether he recognizes it or not, he’s still conflicted. “I’ve been gone ten years now.”
    “Do you mind if I ask why you left?” I ask.
    “I couldn’t abide by the rules. I mean, living without electricity and a car was bad enough. But I wanted to go to college.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to be a farmer. I didn’t want that kind of future.”
    “Any regrets?”
    His eyes lock onto mine. “I miss my family. I have four younger sisters. They looked up to me.” He gives a self-deprecating laugh. “Hell, I still drive by the place. How pathetic is that?”
    I find myself liking him despite my resolve to remain neutral. “You see your siblings?”
    He breaks eye contact, looks down at his stocking feet. “Parents don’t want me seeing them. They think I’m a bad influence, I guess.”
    I nod, understanding more than he could know. “What happens after a young person makes contact with you?”
    “I offer him a place to stay. Lend him money if he needs it. Counsel him.” Stoltzfus likes to talk, I realize, and he’s warming to us. “It’s harder than most people think. Leaving, I mean. You see, when you’re Amish, your family is everything to you. It’s like they’re your whole universe. A lot of young people want to leave but don’t because of their families. So I give them a neutral place, without judging them, and without the pressure of their families or the elders.”
    “You’re Mennonite now?”
    He nods. “The religious beliefs are similar, but you don’t have to live your life as if it’s the eighteenth century.”
    I pause to give Tomasetti an opening. “What can you tell us about Noah Mast?” he asks.
    All semblance of tranquillity leaves Stoltzfus. His left eyelid begins to flutter. “I didn’t really know him. Noah was a few years younger than me, but I’d see him around. After I left, he got in touch with me and told me he wanted to leave. Asked me how to do it.”
    “Did you help him?”
    “I would have, but I never heard from him again.”
    “At the time, had you been actively helping other Amish youths leave the lifestyle?”
    “Well, I wasn’t organized about it, not like I am now. But yeah. I helped a couple kids back in those early days. I mean, it had been so hard for me.” Another nervous laugh. “I felt . . . compelled to help others.”
    “What else can you tell us about Noah?” Tomasetti says the words amicably, but his stare is intense.
    “Alls I remember is he told me he wanted out. I gathered he wasn’t getting along with his folks. I offered to help him.” Stoltzfus shrugs. “Next thing I know, he’s missing.
    “Were you surprised?”
    “Not really. I figured he’d just done it on his own.”
    “Do you know Annie King?” Tomasetti asks.
    His eyes go wide, and he begins blinking. He looks at us as if realizing he’s wandered into a lion’s den and his only escape is now