Most of the men were still busy with the barn-raising as I biked the three miles or so down the road to Abraham Sutter’s farmhouse. The sun was just sitting on the horizon, and I hoped that gave me at least a half hour to do the dirty—assuming the men didn’t return to their homes before nightfall, of course. I’d thought about taking Daisy to cut the time, but I was afraid that having the Jeep parked outside the colony elder’s home would be a dead giveaway that I’d been there, and I wanted to be as discreet as possible. I was sweating, tired, and feeling vaguely sick by the time I reached Abraham’s house. I kept thinking about Isaac, wondering if the seemingly sweet young man who had given himself to me behind the barn was a murderer and a black witch. If he was, that didn’t say much about my choice of lovers. Abraham’s place wasn’t terribly different from the Knapp farmhouse, except for the fact that it was virtually uninhabited.
