“Moses, to keep it straight between us,” she said, “I never thought you were stupid.”
It took him a moment to respond. “Some people do.”
“I’m not some people. I care about you and your family, Moses. And I’d like to help you, if I can.” She clasped her hands on the table in front of her. “But you have to help yourself. You know that you’re in a lot of trouble, don’t you?”
Again, it took him a long time to answer. “Ya, I know that.” His gaze moved from his lap to a spot on the wall to her left.
“Your mother and your sister and your brother are worried about you,” she said.
He closed his eyes. “I worry, too. About them.”
She studied him for a moment. With Travis, it had always been better to just get to the point of her visit to his office or her phone call. There was no exchange of pleasantries. “Moses, did you shoot Daniel?”
“I said that I did.”
Rachel leaned forward in her chair. “Moses, you don’t seem like a bad person to me. Was it an accident? If you shot Daniel, did you mean to shoot him?”
He glanced at her, and for just the fraction of a second, she saw desperation in his eyes. He looked away. “He’s dead. Daniel will go to heaven. He’s better off there. Isn’t that what the preachers say?” He sounded as if he were reciting from rote memory. “Heaven is a better place. We should be happy for him.”
“The preachers also tell us that it’s a sin to lie. Are you lying, Moses?”
“What is a lie?”
Confused, she shook her head. “You know the difference between a lie and the truth. I know you do.” She hesitated. “Are you telling the truth when you tell the police you killed Daniel?”
“I had to.”
“You had to what? Kill Daniel or confess to killing him?” she asked, starting to get impatient with him. “Was what you told the police the truth?”
Moses hesitated and then said, “There can be different truths.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. This wasn’t going anywhere and they were running out of time. And she hadn’t even broached the subject of a lawyer yet. But something definitely didn’t feel right. As odd as he was, Moses didn’t seem like a killer. “Why would you confess if you didn’t do it?”
He spread his hands on the table again. “I lost my hat. I don’t know where. Do you think I should have my hat on?” He ran fingers down the back of his head. “They say hats aren’t allowed, but I should cover my head.”
“I don’t think God will mind,” she answered. “You’re inside. I think He will understand.” She tapped her fingers on the scarred Formica tabletop to get his attention. “Moses, you didn’t answer my question. Why would you confess to a murder you didn’t do?”
He smiled, a sad smile. “Why do men do any of the things they do?”
She exhaled loudly. “I don’t think you’re the one who killed Daniel. Am I right?”
He murmured something under his breath.
“I didn’t hear you, Moses. Please, look at me,” she said beginning to feel a little desperate. Moses’s behavior wasn’t going to bode well at a hearing. Not if a judge tried to speak to him. “I want to help you. If you know who I am, you know that I would never do anything intentionally to harm you or your family.”
“I think you mean well, Rachel.”
He said it while staring at the wall, and his observation startled her. “I do mean well. I can’t abide injustice. And if you are convicted for something you didn’t do, that would be the worst kind of injustice. Is it true that you’ve refused a lawyer?” When he didn’t respond, she went on. “Moses, you have to have an attorney. Even if you did shoot Daniel, you need someone to ensure that you’re treated fairly. If it was an accident, and you shot him, it’s different than if you deliberately—”
“Only God can judge,” he interrupted.
“Not in a court of law. And a lawyer wouldn’t judge you. He or she is only there to protect your rights. Even if you did . . . if you did what you say you did, you have a right to a fair trial. Every American has that right.”
“Englisher law.”
“Ne, Moses, American law. And even Amish men and women are Americans. Remember, our ancestors came here from the Old World to find those rights. You have to ask for an attorney. If it’s money you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ll think of something, and I’ll find a lawyer for you, a good one.”
He shifted in his chair, looking at his fingernails. “I’m supposed to be at work.”
Rachel wasn’t certain what to say to that, so she said nothing.
“I am. I’m supposed to be at work. I don’t like to be late.”
“You can’t go to work if you’re locked in here.”
Moses seemed to consider that. “My mother needs my pay. I give her my pay. Not all. Most of it. Some I keep for lunch. For soda pop on Saturday. Just Saturday. They cost a dollar twenty-five at Wagler’s Grocery. I get a grape soda pop and a submarine sandwich. Every Saturday. That costs six dollars. The rest goes to my mother. She depends on it.” He folded his arms and rocked back and forth in his seat. “I think I should have my hat. My mam would want me to wear my hat.”
“It will be all right,” Rachel said. “She’ll understand.”
Moses didn’t seem to hear her. He was quiet for a minute or two, and then he said, “It wasn’t an accident.” He was looking over her head now, and he’d clasped his hands together as if in prayer. “I don’t think so. I don’t think it was an accident that Daniel died. But he’s in heaven now, so it’s all right.”
“How do you know?” she pressed. “How do you know it wasn’t an accident? Were you
