Gregg Olsen - A Killing in Amish Country: Sex, Betrayal, and a Cold-blooded Murder

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For Barbara Weaver:

Remembered by her children,

forsaken by her husband

He who commits adultery lacks sense;

He who does it destroys himself.

Proverbs 6:32

The authors have elected to use pseudonyms for some in the narrative. They are indicated in italics here.

AMISH & MENNONITE

Barbara Weaver, Eli Weavers wife, and mother of Harley, Jacob, Sarah, Joseph, and Lizzie

Eli Weaver, Amish Stud, business owner

Fannie Troyer, Barbaras sister, wife of Cristy, and mother of Susie, Mary, John, and Daniel

Linda and Firman Yoder, Weaver neighbors

Samuel Miller, Weaver neighbor

Pearl Wyse, Weaver neighbor

Betty Stolfus, a local taxi driver

George, church friend of Ed and Barb Raber

Menno and Katie Miller, adoptive parents of Barb Raber

Duane Troyer, Christian counselor

THE WOMEN

Barb Raber, Eli Weavers lover, taxi driver, wife of Ed, mother of three

Tabitha Milton, Elis close friend, and the recipient of a laptop and a phone

Cherie Lindstrom, Elis lover; caught in the act with Eli in his store

Misty Stevens, Elis lover who had a daughter with him

Shelley Casey, a lover Eli lived with when he left the Amish for a short time

Candy Denton, one of Elis girlfriends

Jamie Wood, cell mate of Barb Raber

FRIENDS & ACQUAINTANCES

Steve Chupp, fishing friend of Elis

Mark Weaver, friend of Elis

David Weaver, Barb Rabers former lover

Cora Anderson, contact of David Weaver, who offered to find a hit man

Ruby Hofstetter, childhood friend of Barbara Weaver

THE LAW

Michael Maxwell, Wayne County Sheriffs Office detective

John Chuhi, Wayne County Sheriffs Office detective

Joe Mullet, Holmes County Sheriffs Office deputy

Edna Boyle, Wayne County assistant district attorney

John Leonard, Barb Rabers defense attorney

Andy Hyde, Eli Weavers attorney

Robert Brown, Wayne County Court of Common Pleas judge

G REGG O LSEN IS a master of true crime and one of the most respected writers of our time. Ive had the pleasure of reading many of his books, two of which are true crime set among the Amish: Abandoned Prayers and this one (with Rebecca Morris), A Killing in Amish Country .

Amish society is deeply religious. For centuries, the culture has changed little and remains virtually untouched by outside influences. Most of us couldnt imagine living without cell phones and cars and all of the conveniences modern life offers. Yet the Amish continue to flourish without any of those things. No electricity. No telephones. No gasoline powered vehicles. The contrast of old versus new is profound.

One of the things that makes the Amish so fascinating is the fact that it is a closed society. Their church districts are tightly knit. Most children speak Pennsylvania Dutch before they speak English. Neighbors truly know their neighbors. Amish communities are connected in ways that mainstream America is not.

Theres no doubt the Amish make good neighbors. Theyre good custodians of the land. Barn raisings are not an invention of Hollywood; they are part of Amish life. When tragedy strikes a neighboreven if that neighbor is Englishthe Amish are the first in line to help in any way they can. Their lives revolve around family, worship, clean living, and hard work.

But no cultural group can always be so neatly categorized; no group is immune to the human weaknesses, faults, and frailties that affect all of us. As the authors so deftly underscore in A Killing in Amish Country , sometimes those all-too-human shortcomings manifest into something darker: The complete lack of a conscience. Lust. Narcissism. And a capacity for violence.

With A Killing in Amish Country , Gregg and Rebecca have written the stunning account of what happens when the dark side of human nature collides with the gentle and religious world of the Amish. Their research, not only on the legal and police procedural aspects of the crimes, but the details of Amish life most of us never see, is spot on and makes for an intense, educational, and addictive read.

Where did my friend, love, trustworthy husband go to? He hates me to the core.

B ARBARA W EAVER , IN A LETTER TO HER COUNSELOR ABOUT THE DEEP DIVIDE IN HER MARRIAGE .

A pleasant stillness is one of the hallmarks of most June nights in Apple Creek, Ohio. No incessant chatter coming from the television. No buzzing of fluorescent lights. None of the loud voices that come from people who have had too much to drink and something to prove. Nothing wafts over the hilly terrain but the softness of warm air circulating around the plain white farmhouses, barns, and outbuildings that dot much of Wayne and Holmes Counties, where most of Americas Amish people live.

From the outside, things are picture-perfect. Boys and men in light-blue shirts and suspender-supported trousers; girls and women in an array of dark purples, blues, and greens with paper-thin bonnets covering long hair pinned up on the back of their heads. Houses with no power lines. Dirt driveways rutted with buggy tracks.

That veneer of undeniable charm and quaintness belies reality. During the late-night hours of June 1, 2009, the quiet of the milieu ebbed when the clouds opened and it began to rain, then, drop after drop, the wind kicked up. There was thunder, too. The weather brought a kind of restlessness across the community. Some of the children in Eli and Barbara Weavers house left their upstairs bedrooms and made their way downstairs to sleep away from the noise of the storm and closer to the master bedroom on the main floor.

With the light of a gas lantern casting long shadows over the room, Barbara, a pretty young mother with dark-blond hair, rocked her youngest, Lizzie. There was nothing more important to Barbara and her sister Fannie Troyer than their children. Barbara had five, and Fannie had four, all under the age of nine.

On this evening, there was a blended group sleeping at the Weavers. Four of Barbaras children, Harley, Sarah, Joseph, and Lizzie Weaver, and their cousins Susie and Mary Troyer, were winding down after a day of play. Barbara encouraged them to speak in hushed tones so as not wake the ones that were beginning to get drowsy in Barbaras bed. The cousins had come to the Weavers, and Barbaras son Jacob had stayed at her sisters house, after a birthday party for nine-year old Harley at the Troyers the night before.

Susie settled on the sofa and Harley found a cozy spot on the recliner that was his fathers main place of refuge when he was home and not working at the familys hunting and fishing supply business, Maysville Outfitters. Except Eli Weaver was rarely home, and he didnt consider it a sanctuary. None of the children would recall seeing much, if anything, of the Amish man in recent days. Which wasnt new. He was almost never home for mealsan important time in Amish family lifeand he didnt like his children hanging out at his store. At least twice in their young lives he had disappeared for weeks or months at a time.

At some point in the early morning of June 2, Eli came home and carried Mary, Sarah, and Joseph upstairs. He had just a couple of hours to get some sleep before he left on a fishing trip to Lake Erie.