Murder, Served Simply (18 page)

B
y the way the snow was packed down in this part of the yard, I could tell that the side door was the commonly used entrance. The door opened directly into the kitchen. A round kitchen table sat in one corner of the large room. On the table a chain of popcorn and cranberries was under construction, and two bowls of each sat on the table.

“I used to love making those with my aunt when I was a child,” I said.

Junie's mother removed her cloak and hung it on the peg by the kitchen door. I did the same with my ski coat.

“I haven't made any in years, but I was at the mercantile this morning and saw the cranberries,” she said. “I could not resist. Evie—”

“Mamm
.
”
Junie touched her mother's arm.

“
Nee
, I am fine, Junie. Why don't you check on the cornbread in the oven? It should be just about done. We are having a simple and late supper tonight. Your
daed
went to the tree farm not long ago to lend a hand to your uncle.”

Junie dropped her hand.
“Ya, Mamm
.
”

Esther fell into her seat. “I was inspired to make it because it was Evie's favorite Christmas decoration. She always liked decorations since she was a very small
child. I should have known then that she wouldn't remain Amish.”

I removed my gloves and stuck them into the large pockets of my coat. “Do you make them to hang inside your house?”

Esther sat at the kitchen table and gestured for me to do the same. “Sometimes, but more often we make dozens of them and hang them on the pine trees in the yard to feed the birds. It can be hard for them to find food during the winter, and it is especially hard during a winter this harsh.” She picked up a plump cranberry and rolled it back and forth in the palm of her hand. “I thought it would be a good remembrance for Evie this Christmas to do it again. I don't tell my husband this is why. He would not understand.” She dropped the cranberry into the bowl and threaded a needle. “My husband didn't understand anything when it came to Evie.”

Junie silently moved around the kitchen during our conversation. She was so quiet that I forgot she was there until she set a steaming mug of coffee in a plain white cup in front of me on the table.

Esther slid a pincushion, thread, and bowl of popcorn across the table to me. “Since your aunt gave you Running Stitch, I assume that you are good with a needle. You can start a new string.”

“I'm not bad,” I said as I removed a needle from the cushion and snipped off a long piece of thread.

She laughed and stuck her needle through a cranberry. “I knew your
aenti
very well. She was a
gut
woman, a pillar of the community. She came to see me after Eve left. She assured me that Eve must choose her own path that
Gott
wanted for her.”

I could see Aunt Eleanor doing that. Even in the darkest pit of her cancer, she encouraged and comforted others.

Esther bent over her popcorn and cranberry chain and shook her head. A large tear landed on one of the cranberries like a drop of rain. “I don't know how being an actress was part of
Gotte
's
plan for my elder daughter. It went against everything we were or wanted for her.”

I placed a handful of popcorn and another handful of cranberries in front of me on the tabletop, not knowing what to say to comfort her.

When I was silent, she continued. “Everyone in the district loved Eve before she left. That was why it was so heartbreaking when she made her decision to go. I think of the life she could have had. She could have done so well here. She had the pick of the young men. She would have had children and been happy and alive.”

I stabbed a piece of popcorn with my needle. “But she wanted a different kind of life.”

She strung three pieces of popcorn in silence. “One I couldn't give her.”

“Junie said that you would still be handling the funeral. I'm glad for that.”

“It will be at the gravesite as soon as the sheriff . . .” She took a breath. “As soon as the sheriff releases her body to us. Since Evie was no longer Amish, our bishop
and elders won't preside over the burial. A minister from the Mennonite meetinghouse offered to come and give prayers for the quiet service. Only Junie and I will be there.”

“Your husband?” I asked.

She shook her head. “
Nee.
Noah won't attend. It would be too difficult for him. You have to excuse my husband. He is as distraught as I am over Eve's passing.” She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a dish towel. “But to him she was lost years ago when she went to New York. I held on to the hope that she would come back. My
mamm
said the secret of the home is women were always tougher than their husbands. I believe that now.”

“May I come?” I asked. “I would like to come. I didn't know Eve long, but she made an impression on me during that time.” I paused. “And I think her friend Amber would like to come too.”

She nodded. “I will have Junie tell you when it is time. I guess you will know how to tell Amber, as we . . .”

“I do.” I stabbed two cranberries with my needle and squirted myself in the eye with cranberry juice.

Esther handed me her handkerchief with a sad smile, but she did not comment on the cranberry juice.

I wiped at my eye and chuckled. “I'm used to working with fabric. There's no juice in fabric.”

She offered me the tiniest of smiles. “
Nee
, I suppose there is not.”

I folded the handkerchief and placed it on the table.
“Were you happy when you heard of Eve's return to Holmes County?”

She nodded. “I was so happy to see her, but I knew it would be difficult too.” She sighed. “Part of me hoped that when she got back, we could start again. Maybe she would remember what she gave up for her
Englisch
life and want to return to our way. If she did, all would be forgiven. She would be welcomed back into the community like a long-lost daughter. That is why Junie mentioned that play was coming to the hotel. I told Junie to write to her sister and ask her to join the play.”

I glanced at Junie, who was focused on the task of drying and putting away the dishes. “Why didn't you write her yourself?” I asked.

“I couldn't do that. Eve left the community. My husband was very angry when she left and forbid me to contact her. He never told Junie directly that she couldn't speak to her sister, which is why I asked Junie to write the letter about the play to Eve. I know it was wrong that we disobeyed the spirit of my husband's order, but I so desperately wanted to see my elder daughter again. It was the only way. I would never travel into her world in New York City.” She held the dish towel to her chest. “When she wrote us two months ago to tell us that she got the part, I was so happy. Now I wish I never asked Junie to write. At least then I would know she was alive and had a chance to return to our ways one day.” She dabbed at her eyes with the towel. “I am sorry.”

Without a word, Junie refilled the white coffee mug in front of her mother. The girl wore a pained expression. I
had to look away. The grief, both mother's and daughter's, was too stark.

“I'm so sorry for your loss.” My voice caught. “Anyone who met her knew Eve was special.”

“She was,” Esther said. “She was.”

I wrapped my hands around the plain white mug. “So you didn't see Eve when she returned to the county?”

“I did once. I went to the hotel to see her. She didn't know I was there. I peeked into the barn when she practiced her songs for the play. Had my husband known, he would have been so angry with me, but I had to see her. My only regret is that I didn't speak to her, didn't get the chance to tell her I loved her. But I could not; it is not our way.”

What I was going to ask next would be uncomfortable, but I pressed on. “But she had to know many Amish weren't happy she returned to Holmes County. Nahum Shetler made his disapproval of Eve's return known.”

“Nahum is my husband's brother.” Esther pinched a piece of popcorn so hard in her hand that it crumpled into a dozen tiny pieces on the table. “I do not care for him. He's wild and can't be trusted.”

I selected another piece of popcorn. “Do you think he would hurt Eve? Did he have any reason to?”

“Does anyone have any reason to hurt another person? As Amish, we are nonviolent, and we would say no.”

True, the Amish were nonviolent in their teaching,
but if my life in Holmes County had taught me anything, it was that some of them fall short in the practice.

“Whatever he might call himself, I don't consider Nahum to be in my Amish family any longer,” she added. “But I don't believe my brother-in-law is capable of hurting Eve. I know it was one of those theater people.”

I was beginning to agree with her, especially after overhearing that conversation between Jasper and Wade. I hoped that the sheriff had been able to check into Wade's background by now.

Water sloshed out of the pot that Junie carried onto the floor. Junie cried out as some hot water splashed her ankles.

Mrs. Shetler snapped at her daughter in Pennsylvania Dutch.

I jumped out of my seat. “Are you burnt?”

Junie replaced the kettle to the stove with shaky hands. “
Nee
, the water wasn't that hot. I was startled, that was all.”

I grabbed a dish towel from the handle on the oven door and wiped at the floor.

Junie squatted next to me. “You should go,” she whispered. “
Mamm
is upset.”

I stood and handed her the towel. Junie was right. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Esther smiled. “Thank you for coming. It was kind of you to stop and chat. It's not often I am able to speak so freely about Evie. I'm afraid others in my community like to pretend that she never was. But she was, and she was my daughter.”

As I left the house, I bit my lip to hold back tears for a life wasted and the grieving mother left behind.

T
he township trustees' meeting at Willow Moon's tea shop, the Dutchman's Tea Shop, had been scheduled to begin at eight. I ran into the shop in a cloud of wind and snow twenty minutes late.

When I burst through the door, Wanda's customers stared at me. I gave them my best winning smile.

One of Willow's waitresses, a teenaged Amish girl, swerved around me with a steaming teapot in one hand and a tray of teacups in the other. She was light on her feet and avoided the collision.

Willow waved at me from a corner table. The other members of the board were already there. Tablets, both electronic and traditional paper, covered the table's service amidst teapots, cups, and small plates of cucumber sandwiches. The sight of the cucumber sandwiches made my stomach rumble.

Farley Jung, former head trustee, pulled out the empty chair next to him and patted the seat. Why did I think he had kept that seat empty on purpose?

I grimaced but sat. “I'm so sorry I'm late.”

“What held you up?” Willow asked. She was the only one who smiled at me.

I cleared my throat. “I had stopped at the hotel to check on play practice. I thought you all would
appreciate a report on that, and I gave Junie, one of the maids, a last-minute ride home.”

Willow clapped her hands. “That was so good of you, Angie. This weather is far too harsh for a young girl to be walking in it.”

I ducked my head. “Thank you, Willow.” I sat in one of the white mismatched dining chairs around the circular table.

Willow picked up the teapot in the middle of the table and poured tea into my cup. I peered into the teacup. “What's this?” The mixture smelled suspect, and I had been burned, literally, so many times before by Wanda's strange tea recipes that I was wary of them.

“Peppermint tea,” Willow said.

It smelled like more than peppermint to me.

Jason widened his eyes in warning over his cucumber sandwich.

Willow beamed. “I'm so glad that you are all here. You can taste my new tea.”

A collective “No” went up from the other trustees. I think it was the one and only time that we were all in agreement.

Willow wrinkled her nose. “Oh, you. I made a few missteps in the past. That's no reason for alarm.”

“Missteps?” Farley asked. “I think your last recipes burned off fifty percent of my taste buds.”

“Oh, pooh,” Willow said. “You're exaggerating.”

Head Trustee Cramer sniffed. “Now that Angela is finally here, we can start the meeting.” Then she pursed her lips. “Find another group to be your tea testers, Willow. We have very important business this evening.” She tapped her gavel on the table.

Jason made a grab at his teacup, which threatened to topple over.

“You don't really need to use the gavel, Caroline,” Willow said. “That is only for public meetings.”

Caroline glowered at her. She pushed the gavel to the center of the table and folded her hands in front of her. “I would like to hear what you learned at the play practice, Angie. Please give a report. I would also like to hear exactly what happened when Eve fell. Willow has already given her account. What is yours?”

“A report?” I asked with a cucumber sandwich halfway to my mouth.

“You were there for the quilt show, were you not?” Caroline arched her brow. “And you were at the progressive dinner itself, so you should know what is going on.”

Willow sipped her Christmas surprise tea and hid a grimace. “I suppose it could use a little more peppermint extract or sugar. Maybe the cranberry was a bad idea.” She raised her cup to me. “I'm sure Angie knows much more than the two things that you mentioned. She's been sleuthing. Haven't you?”

I felt four pairs of eyes on my face. I wanted to jump across the table and cover Willow's mouth.

I cleared my throat. “Willow and I were both at the play when the swing broke, killing Eve. I met Eve briefly
at the dinner before the play. I thought she was a lovely girl. It's a tragedy for Amish and English in the community.”

“It's a publicity nightmare,” Farley said. “That's what it is.”

I wasn't surprised by Farley's comment. I glared at him. He merely smiled back. My ick factor with Farley went up another two notches.

“Is the sheriff close to solving the case?” Jason asked. Again the question was directed at me.

“Why are you asking me that? You should ask the sheriff.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Come on, Angie, everyone knows that you two are a couple. He had to have said something to you.”

“He told me to stay out of the investigation.”

“At least that's sound advice,” Caroline said. “So you went to play practice tonight. Did they appear to be on track?”

I peered into my cup of not-just-peppermint tea to hide a grimace. I didn't think the stage manager and director getting into a fistfight constituted going well. “Eve had an understudy, Lena Luca. She's already rehearsing for the part. They mean to continue. I believe they plan to have rehearsals late into the night tonight and more on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.”

Willow clicked her tongue. “That's awful. They should take the holiday off.”

Caroline patted the back of her pristine French roll. “No, that is good. They need to have as many practices
as they can to make sure this performance goes off without a hitch.”

Was she calling Eve's death a mere hitch?

“Let's get back to the task at hand and focus on damage control. Hopefully, with the township practically shut down over Christmas, the Rolling Brook rumor mill will settle down and give us an opportunity to launch the next progressive dinner with much less notoriety.”

“You plan to continue the dinners?” Willow asked.

“The show must go on,” Caroline said. “We can't afford the refunds. The money is already spent.”

“How can the money already be spent?” I asked. “It was earmarked for a new playground. There's like two feet of snow outside. Kids aren't playing outside now.”

“Production hasn't started, but we have already signed the contract with the contractor. We are bound to go through with it now.”

I bit my lip.

“The contractor gave us a discount to sign early,” Caroline said.

“You paid before the work was even started?” Jason groaned.

Farley shook his head. “It is not how I would do it.”

Caroline's jaw twitched. “You are no longer the head trustee, Farley. I wish you would remember that. In any case, play practice seems to be on track, so I see no reason to cancel the dinner.”

As long as the actors and director can settle their differences first,
I thought. I didn't share that concern with the trustees.

She pointed her gavel at me. “Since you're at the hotel
for your quilt show, Angie, I want you to keep an eye on the play. Let me know if they look like they are having any complications.”

Complications? The play was having more than a few of those.

Willow dumped a full tablespoon of raw sugar into her teacup. That didn't speak well for the flavor of the tea. “I think Angie should find out who the killer is. That will make sure everything goes smoothly. Having a murderer on the loose is a tad unnerving.”

I stirred my tea. The acrid scent filled my nose. There was no way I was drinking that.

Caroline frowned. “What if it's one of the actors? Then the play will have to be canceled.” She shook her head. “It would be best if the crime was solved after the performances are over.”

Willow dropped her spoon. “You can't really mean that.”

Jason drummed his fingers on the table.

“Jason, is something wrong?” Caroline asked. “You've barely said two words this entire meeting.”

“Are you worried about Amber?” I asked.

Jason's head snapped in my direction.

“What does Jason's daughter have to do with anything?” Caroline asked.

“She and Eve were best friends,” I said.

I felt Farley watching me. “My, Angie. You are good at finding out everyone's past, aren't you?”

I ignored him.

Jason pursed his lips. “Amber will be fine.”

Willow reached across the table and patted Jason's hand. “I'm so sorry to hear that. I didn't know.”

The trustee nearly toppled his full teacup. “My daughter will be fine.”

Willow clapped her hands. “Does Amber know anything about what happened? Did Eve say anything to her about being afraid?”

Jason scowled. “My daughter is not involved in this in any way, and I don't appreciate your implying otherwise.”

I thought of the threatening letters that Eve had received. Amber knew a lot more than Jason thought or wished to think. Now would not be a good time to tell him that I had already spoken to her. I hoped that she wouldn't tell her father I'd stopped by the library.

“If she was your daughter's best friend,” Willow said, “then you must have known her fairly well.”

Jason picked up another cucumber sandwich. “I've known Eve since she was a little girl and feel awful about what happened. Her family is devastated.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” Willow said. She pressed a folded napkin to the corner of her eye. “It's just too terrible for words. And she had a voice like an angel. It's all just such a terrible shame.”

Farley cleared his throat. “What I think is that we should draw the killer out, and that will resolve everything.”

“But the play,” Caroline said.

Farley pursed his lips. “I believe that finding the killer is more important than the play.” He turned to me. “Wouldn't you agree, Angie?”

“I do,” I said. It wasn't often I agreed with Farley Jung.

“How do we do it?” Willow asked.

“At the progressive dinner, we will make a big show over how wonderful Eve was. We will rub salt in the wound and see if they will confess because of guilt.” Farley sipped from a glass of water. Just like every other trustee, he didn't touch his tea.

“And if the killer doesn't feel bad about it?” Caroline asked.

“Then we are dealing with a dark person, indeed.”

I shivered. I had faced my share of killers in the last few months, but I didn't want to come face-to-face with anyone like Farley described.

“Who is going to do this?”

“I think Angie should make the speech. She can represent the trustees at the next dinner. You are very clever, Angie. You will know what to say.”

Willow nodded. “I suppose it is worth a try if it will bring peace back to our community.”

I held up my hands. “Wait a minute. I didn't agree to do this. This is a bad idea. If the killer loses it, it could put the diners in danger.”

“No one will do anything with that many witnesses at the table,” Farley said coolly. “Angie, you are the best person for the job. Everyone at the play and hotel knows you by now. If another one of us does it, it won't hold as much meaning.”

I was always the best person for the job in the trustees' opinions. I don't know if it was because I was most gullible or because I was the lowest person on the totem
pole. In either case, I was stuck. At the same time, a tiny part of me thought Farley might be right.

“Will you do it, Angie?” Jason asked.

“If I have a chance.” I looked them each in the eye. “I'm promising you nothing.”

Farley grinned as if I had said yes with one hundred percent certainty.