Her Last Breath: A Kate Burkholder Novel

see him as a hopeless workaholic, always coming home late, working weekends, sequestered behind his computer when he’s home at all. Hence the pending divorce. “How long have you been in Painters Mill?”
    “Going on eight months now. I came down from Cleveland. Different world up there. I needed a change after my wife filed. I’ll never go back to the big city. This area, this clinic, has been my salvation, so to speak. It’s exciting work, and I couldn’t ask for a better group of people to work with.”
    “The Borntrager children were patients here?”
    “They were.” His lips twist as if he’s bitten into something rotten. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened to them. I still can’t. Those poor kids. And Paul. My God, I can’t imagine what Mattie must be going through.” He gives me a direct look, and I see a layer of thinly veiled outrage in his eyes. “I heard it was a hit-and-run.”
    “It was.”
    “Any leads?”
    “We’re working on it.”
    “I meant to get up to the hospital to see David, but I’ve been putting in long hours here and never made it. How’s he doing?”
    “He’s going to be fine.”
    “Great. I hear they’ve got an excellent trauma team at Pomerene.”
    “I’m wondering, Dr. Armitage—”
    “Call me Mike, please.”
    “Mike,” I say. “Can you tell me what the children were being treated for?”
    “All three were afflicted with Cohen syndrome, to differing degrees.”
    “What is Cohen syndrome, exactly?”
    “Like most of the disorders we treat here, it’s genetic in nature. Rare, but not so much among the Amish. It causes a delay in mental and physical development. Neutropenia, or low white blood cell count. Hypotonia, which basically means low muscle tone. A whole array of symptoms that can impact a kid’s life in a negative way.” He shakes his head. “Mattie and Paul were good with those kids. It never seemed to bother them that they were special-needs. Hell, they barely noticed. Never complained or felt sorry for themselves or their children. Paul and Mattie loved those kids and raised them the best they could.”
    “How well did you know them? Paul and Mattie, I mean.”
    “Well, they’d been coming to the clinic since I arrived. It was a professional relationship, you know, just to talk about the kids enough for me to ascertain how they’re doing and gauge improvements or changes, if any.” Looking inward, he smiles. “First month or so we pretty much talked about the weather. Mattie and Paul were wary of me. You know, the whole outsider thing. Until I began working here in Painters Mill, I hadn’t had much contact with the Amish or their culture, so I was clueless. All of us had to open our minds, so to speak. Once that happened, they began to trust me. I think they realized I care, and they knew I’d do my utmost to help their children. They’re good people, Chief Burkholder. Nice family. Kids are well behaved and sweet. I hope to God you get justice for them.”
    The urge to tell him I plan to do just that is strong, but I don’t because I know better than to make some emotion-driven promise I may not be able to keep. “How well did you know Paul?”
    “He was a great guy. Quiet. Religious. To tell you the truth, he had a pretty wicked sense of humor for an Amish guy.” He chuckles as if remembering. “I only met him a handful of times, but he was terrific.”
    Something pings in the back of my brain. “I was under the impression that he had a standing appointment here at the clinic.”
    “Mattie was the one who usually brought in the kids. Every week like clockwork. For bloodwork, mostly. The children were on medication offered for free as part of a clinical trial. I like to keep a handle on the levels in the bloodstream. And the neutrophils, of course. We also discussed nutritional needs. Every month or so, I had a psychologist come down from Wooster and we did some problem solving and IQ testing.” He gives a nod. “Mattie was great with them. Attentive. Gentle with discipline. Good instincts. Patient.”
    “How well do you know her?”
    “Well enough to know those kids were her life. ‘Gifts from God’ is the way she referred to them. I can’t imagine what this did to her.”
    We fall silent, and for a moment the only sound comes from the chatter of sparrows from the canopy of the maple tree. “Did either of them mention any disagreements or problems? With other family members or neighbors? Friends