“She's gotta be. It's the only answer. Let's go." Ettie pulled on her sister’s sleeve and they made their way to the water’s edge and then walked a short distance along the bank. When they rounded a bend, Gertie came into view. She was sitting on a rock and staring out at the water.
"Gertie!" Ettie called out.
Gertie raised her hand but her face remained expressionless. When they were standing by her she said, "He was a strong swimmer. He shouldn't have drowned."
Ettie said, "He had help to drown, it would seem."
Gertie glanced up at Ettie. "Jah, he drowned him." She looked back to the water and her eyes glazed over again.
"You knew the man who killed him, didn't you?" Ettie asked. “And you married him without knowing?”
Gertie slowly nodded and out of the corner of Ettie's eye, she saw Elsa-May's mouth drop open in shock.
"I married the man who drowned him, it’s true. I figured it out later when I worked out that he had drowned Aaron in a jealous rage. I told him he was dead to me. I was to find out later that he had killed anyone who got in his way."
Ettie swallowed hard. "And that's when you returned to the community and married Simon."
"Jah."
"The man you married was Harold Appleby?" Elsa-May’s blue eyes were wide like saucers.
Without taking her eyes off the water, Gertie softly uttered, “Jah.”
Elsa-May stared at Gertie for a moment. "Was he the one who lived next door to you?”
“Jah.”
Elsa-May’s eyebrows flew up so high they nearly touched her prayer kapp. “How did he come to live beside you in the haus that you owned? You told him you didn’t want anything more to do with him."
"Simon and I had the house to lease. We could only afford to own the property if we leased out the other haus on the land. It was empty for about three months. This particular day, I'd been out since the morning. Then I came home and Simon told me he'd leased the house. He’d struck a deal with a man who’d paid two months in advance. I was so pleased, until I saw who it was."
“Simon didn’t know?” Elsa-May asked.
She shook her head. "And I couldn't even say anything to Simon about it."
"Why? Couldn’t you have told Appleby to leave?" Elsa-May asked.
"I was a divorced woman. I never told Simon I’d been married before. I couldn't risk that he’d find out. Harold had killed Aaron, so how could I be sure he wouldn’t kill Simon? I waited for the next day when Simon was out all day and went to the haus and told Harold to leave.”
“What did he say?” Ettie asked.
“That's when he told me he was divorced from his second wife and we could have a new start if I divorced Simon. I told him no and he said he wouldn't leave but then he did leave. He left after he killed that man whose bones you found, and then he must've figured out Simon had seen him, or he was just crazy-jealous that Simon had married me and I didn't want anything to do with him, and then he killed Simon. After the police came to my door and told me about Simon, I’ve never seen Harold again."
"What did you tell the police?" Ettie asked.
"I didn't want to be next and I didn't want the ugly truth of my past to come out. I’d done so much wrong in my life. Gott had already punished me by making me childless. I not only married outside the faith, but I lied about it and covered it up. Before that, I thought Aaron was trying to talk to me from the grave. I went to mediums and fortune tellers. I just wanted to talk to him one last time. I hope Gott forgives me."
"Well, I don't think you have to worry about that now. Things have happened since you’ve been gone. There was a book that was hidden in the chimney of the haus that Amos is living in. The detective thinks it’s got the names of everyone that Harold killed, and the dates.”
"And they found Harold's fingerprint in it," Elsa-May added.
"It was at the house you say?"
"Hidden in the chimney. It came loose and fell out when Amos was cleaning the chimney years ago, and because he can't read, he had no idea what was in it."
Elsa-May took over explaining, "When Ettie and I went over to tell him that you hadn't been abducted or kidnapped and you’d been driven away by taxi, we were in his house and that’s when we saw the book."
"It didn't occur to me until later that the book might hold a clue," Ettie resumed. "It was later when I saw that Amos had been cleaning the fireplace that things just clicked."
"You think it's all over?" Gertie looked up at them with wide eyes.
"They're going to arrest Harold."
She nodded. "How’s Amos?"
"He's very worried about you," Ettie said. "He's been praying for your safety."
Gertie chuckled. "I've missed him in a funny way. He's always around and trying to take care of me. Most of the time I ignore him."
"Are you ready to go back home?" Ettie asked.
"Just give me a minute. I'll say goodbye to my first love."
"We'll be waiting up by the road."
“I’ll need to get my things from the bed and breakfast where I’ve been staying.”
“Okay.” Ettie nodded.
“Before we go, Gertie, what did you mean by what you said before about trying to contact Aaron? Did the mediums pretend they were talking with him or something?”
Gertie sighed and moved over. “Sit down and I’ll tell you about it.”
Elsa-May and Ettie sat down and looked out over the water, ready to hear Gertie’s story.
“I heard about a woman called Miranda, who was supposed to be able to talk to people on the other side—dead people. I was so desperate to be able to talk to Aaron just once more, that I got the name of Miranda from someone, I can’t even remember who, and then I went to see her.”
A cool wind suddenly blew over the three of them and Ettie shivered as she pulled her shawl over the back of her bare neck.
Chapter 18
Gertie continued her story. “Miranda seemed pleased to see me. It was as though she knew I’d knock on her door that day. She brought me into her home and walked me down a short hallway, ushering me into the first door on the right. The living room was modest, decorated in rich colors. Heavy plum-colored velvet curtains hung in the huge bay window, and they ended just above the highly polished wooden floors. It was around fifty years ago, but I remember it as if it were only yesterday. Miranda pointed to a small table and two chairs in the corner. We sat down.”
“Was she a witch?” Elsa-May asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Let her speak, Elsa-May.”
“Sorry, go on.”
“My palms got sticky and my tongue got caught in my throat. Eventually I was able to tell her that I thought Aaron was trying to communicate with me.” She glanced at the two sisters. “Don’t judge me, either of you. I know we are not supposed to believe in that kind of thing, but after he died, I had strange things happen to me.”
“Like what?” Ettie asked.
“Things would move. Of course, I didn’t see anything move with my own eyes, but things weren’t where I left them. Other things would disappear completely and I’d search high and low and then I’d find them unexpectedly where I’d already looked.”
“Could it have been your mind playing tricks on you because you were under so much stress?” Elsa-May asked.
“I suppose that could be one explanation, but what if people could contact us after they died?”
“Go on,” Ettie said to Gertie.
"Miranda thought it was possible, but since he’d only just died, she didn’t think he’d be strong enough yet. She said most spirits never become strong enough. I told her I wanted to know if he’d been killed. If she was a witch, she should know a way to help me. I’d got to thinking that’s why Aaron was moving these things—trying to get my attention. At the time, I thought he might be trying to tell me who killed him.”
After a long pause, Ettie asked, “What did she say?”
“She rubbed her hands together
and leaned forward and asked me to tell her what manifestations told me he was trying to connect with me. I didn’t know what she meant by manifestations.”
“Tell me you don’t believe in all that, Gertie.”
Gertie looked over at Elsa-May. “Let me get this off my chest. I haven’t told anyone this and it’s weighed heavy.”
“Okay.”
“I told her how things were moving—being in different places than they should’ve been. She smiled warmly and walked to a tall sideboard where she removed a few things and placed them on a tray to carry them over to the table. She said, ‘Do you have anything of his, something he loved, or something he wore?’ Then I panicked, remembering the bishop always preached against this kind of thing—trying to communicate with the dead. Then she grabbed my arm and I stared into her green eyes and I was fearful. I said I had some things of his. She gave me some oil to take home, she said it was powerful, but had a putrid stench."
“What was it?” Elsa-May asked.
“I don't know the name of it; I think it was some kind of incense oil. She said I must burn it, breath it in, make sure I was somewhere quiet, where no one will interrupt me. Then she said it would open my mind to other dimensions, and might allow me to hear Aaron."
Elsa-May shivered. “I don’t like the sound of that at all! It could’ve been some kind of hypnotic drug.”
“I didn’t think even of that. Anyway, the whole thing scared me. I asked her how it would all happen. Even if it was scary I had to try it. If Aaron was trying to tell me who had murdered him, I had to listen for his sake. Miranda couldn’t tell me if it would work. I had hoped for certainties, like a guarantee, but that was stupid and naïve. When I told her I wanted something that would work, she told me it wasn’t magic, it was old wisdom and hypnotherapists do a similar thing using their own methods, to enter their patient's subconscious where they search out hidden experiences or plant more positive suggestions."
“So you smell the oil, you relax and then truths you know in the back of your mind come to the fore?” Elsa-May asked.
“Oh, Elsa-May, would you let Gertie finish?”
“That’s okay, Ettie. I think it was more like a meditation that the old woman was trying to have me do. She said, There must be peace in your mind, in your surroundings, and you must feel safe from disturbances. And you must have him in your heart. When the conditions are right, he will find his way in. I grabbed the bottle of oil, paid her the fee, and left Miranda sitting there smiling on her hardwood chair.”
“And did you go home and light the oil?” Ettie asked.
“Jah. When I got home, my parents were on their way out to go visiting.”
Elsa-May asked, “You were back living with your parents?”
Gertie shook her head. “This was before I’d married anyone.”
“Oh.”
“Carry on. Just ignore, Elsa-May.”
Elsa-May stared open-mouthed at Ettie.
Ettie stared back at her sister and tugged on her ears. “These are for listening. Follow what she’s saying. This is after Aaron died and before she married anyone.”
Elsa-May clamped her mouth closed and looked back at Gertie. “Go on, Gertie.”
“I watched from the stairs as they stood by the front door. My mudder knew I was suffering over Aaron’s death and fretted about leaving me alone. I wanted them to go so I could get on with it and try to communicate with Aaron before I lost my nerve.
“My mudder called out, Are you sure you'll be okay if we go out for a few hours? We can stay in if you'd prefer it, just say the word. I insisted I was fine. My vadder told Mamm to leave me alone and that fussing over me wouldn’t make me miss Aaron any less, but a little quiet time might do me the world of good. Mamm took a reluctant step to the door, which my vadder had opened. When they had gone, I headed up to the attic with the oil, a metal bowl and a box of matches. I figured when my parents got home they wouldn’t smell the oil from way up there.”
“Good thinking,” Elsa-May said.
“Oh, so you’re okay with all this now?” Ettie asked.
“Nee, I just said 'good thinking' about doing it all in the attic. Although, the barn might have been better.”
“Anyway, I lowered the attic stairs. Oh, and I took with me one of Aaron’s shirts that I had. After setting everything up as Miranda had suggested, I lit the oil and stared into the flame, concentrating on Aaron—on his face, the sound of his voice, and his infectious laughter. I even spoke to him and said, ‘Aaron, please, if you're close by, show yourself, or speak to me. Make yourself known to me. Let me see you again.’ I waited a few minutes, but nothing happened. The silence was only disturbed by the crackle of the flame, and the creaking of the old house.”
Gertie stopped and looked at the two sisters.
“It’s okay, you can keep going,” Ettie said.
“I know it’s wrong and I knew it was wrong then, but if there was any chance, I had to know who killed him, or if he had in fact been killed. It was the grief that was so deep that I couldn’t see past it.”
Elsa-May patted her on the shoulder. “Finish your story.”
“I told him if he’d been trying to communicate with me, now was his chance to share his message. There was silence—nothing. I looked around the darkened attic, shivered with cold and a little fear. I pleaded with him to speak with me. Half an hour passed of talking to no one, and I had all but given up. Staring at the flame I breathed in the delicate aroma of the oil. It made my head whirl, and my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell asleep.”
“That’s dangerous, to go to sleep near a flame like that,” Elsa-May pointed out.
“I’m still here. The haus didn’t burn down. I fell into a deep sleep and dreamed of Aaron. He was at the river and about to swim. A large man surprised him, covered his mouth, smothering his cries for help. He was dragged into the water and pushed under. In my dream, I screamed, and ran at his attacker but my efforts made no difference. The man who killed him was faceless, as though he wore a mask. He had no features; it was eerie. Aaron struggled but the man was stronger and he stood no chance against him. I watched what happened next.” She shook her head and wiped away a tear. “I saw it. Then the man just walked out of the water, got in his car and drove away. I woke suddenly, drenched in sweat with my heart pounding. The room reeked of the oil and I did my best to rid the house of the smell. I closed up the opening to the attic.”
“Did your parents smell it when they came home?” Ettie asked.
“Nee, they didn’t. The dream whirled around in my head every day. I knew I’d seen what happened to Aaron, my best friend and my first love. We would’ve married, you know.”
“And you think that’s what happened?” Ettie asked.
“Jah. And I know who did it. I found out just a few weeks after our wedding that Harold had done it. He drowned Aaron. The very next day, I came back here to this very place and sat on this very rock. My palms were sweating, even though the breeze offered a fresh blast of iciness. The river had beckoned me toward it, in spite of everything. I wondered whether visiting this place where Aaron had taken his last breath might lead me to him. I might hear his voice, a whisper, or I figured if he could contact me from heaven; he’d leave me a sign—any kind of a sign.”
“I don’t believe in all that. And it’s wrong to delve into those things.”
Gertie wagged a finger at Ettie. “I know you think I had to believe in ghosts, had to accept that Aaron was trying to communicate with me from beyond the grave.” She shook her head. “It was madness. Wasn't it? Either way, if I had to peek into madness to find an explanation for what had been happening to me since his death, then peek I would.”
“Go on, continue with what you were saying, Gertie,” Elsa-May said.
“I remember it as though it was only yesterday. I sat right here, while the birds sang their midday song and the chilling wind made the leaves rustle about on branches older than my grossdaddi. I stared at the river as I�
�m looking at it now. The wind dried out my lips and I wondered how something so blessed with Gott’s beauty could have been the place for so gruesome a thing.”
Ettie stared at Gertie, remembering how she had looked as a girl. Gertie was some years younger and they’d had different friends back then. So lost in thought was she, that she jumped when Gertie spoke suddenly.
"Aaron! I called out in a voice that was shaky. I felt silly, even though there was no one around to hear me. Who’s to say we go to heaven directly when we die? I don’t know. The bishop couldn’t show me where in the bible that it states such things clearly, and without any doubt. I asked again, Are you still here? The sudden snap of a branch behind me frightened me. The first thing I thought was that it was Aaron’s attacker—Harold coming to tell me he wouldn’t allow a divorce—and I would face him head on. Who’s there? I demanded. Come out!”
Ettie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she listened to Gertie’s tale. Then she wondered if Elsa-May was still having trouble following the story. “Elsa-May, we’re now past the brief marriage to Harold and Gertie finding out Harold murdered Aaron. She told Harold she wanted a divorce. Now she’s sitting here many years ago right in this very spot. This is before—“
“I know, Ettie. Carry on please, Gertie. You were calling out and you thought someone was there. Who was it?”
“Was there anyone there?” Ettie asked when Gertie hesitated.
“Jah, it was Aaron's bruder, Simon. He stepped out from behind a large tree. He asked me if I was calling for Aaron, and I felt like a fool. Even back then, he knew me pretty well. I told him he startled me and I asked him why he was there.” Gertie laughed. Then he asked me why I was there. It had always annoyed me back then when people ask the same question as you just asked. I had no sane reason to be there. I realized how foolish my plan would sound if I said it aloud. My heart hammered in my chest as I searched my mind for something to say, until I decided I didn't have to explain anything at all. Do you know what he said next?”
“What?” Ettie asked, wondering how Simon had won her heart.
Ettie Smith Amish Mysteries Box Set 4 Page 31