Toxic Toffee

by Amanda Flower

  Ruth nodded. “That’s right. The boy ran away, and if he’s still alive, he could come back and lay claim to the Raber farm. Unless Stephen had a will, it would go to his eldest son. That would be Casey.”

  “Couldn’t Eli dispute that?” I asked. “If Casey ran away from home when he was twelve, can’t Eli prove that he was the one who lived and worked on the farm?”

  “It would all have to go through probate court, and this is an Englisch institution,” Millie said as if she were speaking from experience. “If Casey came back as an Englischer, which we must assume he became, he would use Englisch law to take Eli’s place.”

  “But could he really be alive? He left at twelve years old. It’s hard to believe that he would have survived,” Iris mused.

  Ruth shrugged. “No one has heard from him in over twenty years.”

  “If he is alive, I would guess that he’s a long way from here and doesn’t even know his father is dead,” Raellen said.

  “I think the same,” Iris agreed.

  “What was Stephen like when he was younger?” I asked, thinking of the threatening notes. What were the notes about? How long ago had he done something that would offend someone so deeply that he or she would write those notes?

  “He was always a kind man.” Iris looked at Millie, who was standing next to the potbelly stove appearing pensive. “You seem to have something on your mind, Millie. . . .”

  “I never thought that Stephen and Ethel, his first wife, were a good match.”

  Ruth pursed her lips together. “Here we go again with Millie and her matchmaking.”

  “I know when someone is ill-fitted for another person. Everyone has talents given to them by Gott. This is mine.”

  “I don’t believe you can know who is meant for whom. Only Gott can know that,” Ruth said.

  Millie smiled at me. “As you can imagine, this has been a long-standing debate between Ruth and me. We will never see eye to eye. It all comes down to comfort. If you pay attention, you can see who puts another person at ease and who has the opposite effect. Have you ever walked into a room and seen someone there you loved and suddenly felt like everything would be all right? That’s a real match.”

  Ruth muttered something under her breath.

  “And I’m not just speaking of a match in romantic love, either. A friend or family member can have that kind of effect. There are many kinds of matches in this life and not all of them have to do with marriage.”

  Ruth shifted in her seat.

  Millie noticed too and one of her blond brows arched, although she didn’t press Ruth further. She turned back to me instead. “But you asked what Stephen was like when he was younger. He had always been a kind man, but it was clear to me that he wasn’t truly happy until he married Carmela. His life with Ethel was difficult. She was a hard woman, and she was disappointed with their lot in life. I don’t think she was happy with an Amish farmer.”

  “Carmela was the opposite of that,” Ruth said, sounding a little choked up again. “She was the kindest woman. She would do anything for anyone. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Stephen married so soon after Ethel died. He had a three-month-old son and a farm to run. No one blamed him for that.”

  “Not even Casey?” I asked.

  Iris leaned forward. “Now that you mention it, that might have been a reason for Casey to want his father dead. He lost his mother when he was young and must not have felt as if he fit well with the new family. If he had, why would he have left so young?”

  “Why did he leave?” I asked.

  Everyone looked at Ruth.

  Her face reddened. “I don’t know. Carmela never wanted to talk about it. She said it was too painful for her husband.”

  There was something else I had been thinking about since the day of the murder. “Ruth.” I cupped my lemonade jar in my hands. “The day Stephen died, I saw you on the square.”

  “I had nothing to do with his death!” Ruth snapped.

  I held up one of my hands. “I’m not saying that you did, but I saw you there with a woman, an English woman. You were clearly trying to convince her to leave the square. Who was that?”

  Ruth’s face turned a bright shade of pink. “I don’t know why that conversation has any bearing on what we are talking about today.”

  “Just tell her, Ruth,” Millie said in a no-nonsense way. “We don’t know what we will say that might lead to who killed Stephen.”

  Ruth narrowed her eyes. “It was that terrible Sybil Horn. She was on the square, and I knew that I had to tell her to leave.”

  Several women in the room nodded, but I was still completely in the dark. “Who’s Sybil Horn?”

  “She takes children away from the Amish,” Raellen said in a half whisper, as if saying it was inviting Sybil into her home to snatch her own children.

  “She kidnaps Amish kids?” My mouth fell open.

  “Nee,” Millie said. “And, Raellen, it’s not fair to say such a thing.” She turned to me. “Sybil helps Amish who wish to leave the faith.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes when young Amish people decide to leave their community,” Millie said, “they have nowhere to go, and that’s where Sybil comes in. She helps them find a place to stay in the Englisch world. She also helps them acclimate to being Englisch. There are many Amish communities that are still very far removed from Englisch life, and the young people who leave those communities don’t know how to handle all they will face in their new world.”

  “She was at the square looking for young people to pull away from the faith,” Ruth said. “So, I told her to leave. We don’t want her kind in Harvest.”

  Millie pressed her lips together as if she was forcibly holding her tongue. “I’ve spoken with Sybil, and I think that she is a gut person. She is just trying to help young people. She’s former Amish herself. In my opinion, it’s better for a young person to leave the faith and be Englisch than force themselves to be Amish and make everyone around them miserable.”

  “You would think that,” Ruth muttered.

  As Millie spoke I couldn’t help but think of my father, who’d left the Amish life and faith to marry my mother. I liked Millie more for her open-minded opinion of the people who leave the Amish way. At times, I had been criticized by the Amish when they found out my father had fallen away from the faith. Even so, I still didn’t know what all this had to do with Stephen Raber. With every passing minute, I felt less and less confident that Aiden and I would be able to find his killer.

  Chapter 31

  The women quilted for another thirty minutes as they told me what they could about Carmela and Stephen, but I didn’t think anything they said would help me find Stephen’s killer. I was beginning to feel anxious to leave. They had their quilting to keep their hands busy, but since I didn’t quilt, I felt I was sitting there wasting time.

  Just when I thought enough time had passed that I could give my excuses and leave, the group began to break up. I stood too.

  “Bailey, if you would wait just a little while, I will pack up some of the leftover food for you and your grandmother. Charlotte Weaver too. I heard that she’s living with Clara,” Millie said.

  “She is,” I said. “But you really don’t have to do that.”

  “I insist. All you need to do is wait a few minutes.”

  That was easier said than done. I felt I was getting nowhere with Stephen’s murder and wanted to talk to Aiden and see what he’d learned that day—if he would tell me.

  The women shuffled toward the door. During the meeting, night had fallen. Even so it seemed to me that none of them were in a rush to go home. Ruth stepped over to me with her quilting basket hooked over her arm. A bright yellow quilting square peeked out of the basket. “I want you to remember something, Bailey King.”

  I straightened up. “What’s that, Ruth?”

  “Carmela was my dearest friend in the world, and she loved Stephen so very much. You would be doing
a personal favor to me if you found out who did this to him.”

  “So the killer can go to jail?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe in the Englisch justice system. Too many times, the wrong person is punished for crimes he didn’t commit.” She said this as if she was speaking from experience.

  I realized there was a lot about Ruth Yoder that I didn’t know. Yes, she was the aggravating bishop’s wife and a stickler for the district’s many rules, but how did she get that way?

  “You know I will do what I can,” I said. “And Aiden will too.”

  She nodded.

  In the time that Ruth had been talking to me, the other women had left, leaving Millie and me alone in the house.

  “It was gut of you to come. I know that Ruth can be a little demanding, but she has a gut heart and she has been my faithful friend for many years through many dark times.”

  I wanted to ask her what those dark times were, but she said, “I have your food all packed.” She held up a canvas bag. “Let’s go outside.” With her other hand she grabbed a gas-powered lantern from the side table.

  I followed her outside, and as soon as we stepped onto the porch Phillip and Peter came galloping around the house. Thankfully, there was enough ambient light from Millie’s lantern and the clear sky to see them. I didn’t want to accidentally run into the business end of their horns, or their hooves for that matter. I wasn’t sure which goat was which, but the black-and-white one leaped in the air when he saw Millie.

  As if sensing my unasked question, Millie said, “That’s Phillip. He’s the more excitable of the two.”

  As the goats ran around us in a circle, I decided that they both looked pretty excitable to me.

  She handed me the sack of food. “You had better put that in your car before the boys get a whiff of it.”

  “Thank you.” I accepted the sack.

  “That’s why I got these two fellows.” She held the lantern high as we walked to my car. Now, there was only one buggy in the yard, which I knew must be Millie’s. “When I bought this place a month ago, it was all covered with brambles. I bought the goats to help me clear the land and eat the brush. I thought I would give them to my niece when I was done with that project, but I came to realize that I love their company and funny antics.”

  Phillip rolled in the grass and Peter leaped over him.

  I grinned. “I can see why.” I opened the car door and set the food on the front passenger seat. “Thanks for letting me visit your home.”

  “It was my pleasure. I have always been fond of Clara. It was nice to meet her granddaughter.”

  I smiled. “Why did you leave Harvest?”

  “I’ve been in Michigan for the last ten years, caring for my ailing sister,” Millie said. “She passed away over Christmas, so here I am back in Harvest in my old district.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.” I frowned, wishing I hadn’t pried into what must be a painful past.

  She smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad she is no longer in any pain. As hard as it is for me here on earth without her, I know she is much better off in our Heavenly Father’s warm embrace.”

  I frowned. I was surprised that Millie spoke about God in such a loving way. Most of the Amish I had met stressed the fear of God over His love. It seemed to me that Millie’s God was one I would much rather meet than that of the others.

  She studied me for a moment as if she was trying to decide something. Then she nodded as if she’d come to some sort of conclusion, and said, “I wanted to talk to you after the other ladies left because there’s something you should know. I think Sybil Horn might have more to do with all this than I led Ruth to believe. I like Sybil and think she’s a gut person. As you could tell, Ruth is of a different opinion.”

  “Why do you think Sybil is involved?”

  “I was in Millersburg yesterday and saw her with Katey.”

  My brow shot up. “Katey Beiler. Katey, who is betrothed to Eli Raber?”

  “Oh, they are promised now. I didn’t know that it was for certain.” Her face fell.

  “Is it bad that they want to marry?”

  She looked at me with those dark eyes. “I don’t know that they both want to marry.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  Millie shook her head. “They aren’t a good match.”

  I frowned. “How do you know?”

  She laughed. “I know because it’s my gift.”

  “Like a magical gift?” I asked.

  “Nee. Don’t let the bishop or Ruth hear you say that. Magic is not something we Amish think of or believe in.” She smiled to take the bite out of her words and her cheeks turned a soft pink color. If I didn’t have a wonderful grandmother already, I might have adopted Millie on the spot.

  Phillip walked over to her and she rested her hand on the top of his head between his horns. “I understand human nature, especially when it comes to love. It is the gift the Good Lord gave to me. He asks us to use the gifts that He provides for us and so I do,” she said as if it was as simple as that.

  “When did you know that Katey and Eli weren’t a good match?”

  She scratched Phillip’s head. “I’ve known for some time, but I haven’t said anything. I don’t always use my gift even when I see trouble in the future.” She smiled at me. “I’m still Amish through and through, and we are raised not to meddle in others’ affairs unless we are asked to help.”

  “Someone asked you for help?”

  “Katey came to me. She said that her father had decided she was to marry Eli, and she was still unsure of him. It’s not uncommon for young people who are struggling to come and seek me out for guidance.”

  “So, you are a kind of relationship coach or therapist?”

  She laughed. “Those are Englischer terms. I’m just a matchmaker. I can match young and old couples together. I can see what they are too scared or smitten to see, what the other person is truly like in their heart of hearts.”

  “It does sound like quite a gift.”

  A dark cloud fell over her face. “It is. It is a great responsibility.”

  Before I could ask her what was wrong, her face cleared.

  “What did you tell Katey when she came to you?”

  “That I didn’t think they were a good match and that she should speak to her deacon about it.”

  “Her deacon instead of her father?”

  She pressed her lips together. “There’s something off about Jud Beiler, and there always has been since his wife died. My own husband died about the same time, and I think we have mourned differently. I would never tell another person how to mourn—it’s a very private affair—but it does become harder to hold my tongue when someone becomes bitter. It seems to me that is what has happened to Jud.”

  It was funny, but now that she mentioned it, I realized I had thought the same thing about the Amish man.

  “I think you need to talk to Sybil,” she said simply. “She may have the answers you seek.”

  “Where can I find her?”

  “She has a loft on Route Thirty-nine in Millersburg. It’s only a few steps away from the county courthouse. It’s very easy to find.” She slipped her hand into her apron pocket and pulled out a little slip of paper. “I have written the address here for you.”

  I took the piece of paper from her. “I should tell Aiden about this,” I mused.

  “Tell him after you speak to Sybil,” she advised.

  I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t very Amish to advise a woman to do something without telling a man.

  “I say that because I think Sybil will be more comfortable talking to you alone about what she does, and she certainly won’t say anything about Katey if the police are there.”

  I nodded and folded the piece of paper, tucking it into the pocket of my jeans.

  She smiled. “I am glad you want to tell Deputy Brody about it though. That confirms what I already know.”

  “What’s that?”

  �
��You’ve met your match, my girl. He’s the one you’ve been looking for.”

  My breath caught.

  She patted Phillip on the head one more time. “Go play with your brother,” she told the goat, and, as if he understood her completely, he leaped away and chased after Peter. The pair of them careened around the side of the house. She turned back to me. “I suggest that you stop worrying about the day when the two of you break up and think of your future together. If it falls apart, it will be because of your fear. I have seen it happen before, and my heart broke for that couple who were meant to be but were unable to enjoy their love for fear of losing it.”

  I shivered as I realized that she expressed my worst fear, losing Aiden. I was so fearful of it, in fact, at times I found myself holding him at arm’s length, believing that would lessen the pain when it ended. Because part of me thought Aiden was too good to be true. It was just too hard for me to believe a man like him could love me. I had had a very rocky road when it came to relationships, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I was waiting for the other shoe to drop with Aiden.

  “You know what to do, dear. You always have.” With that she turned and walked back to her house.

  Chapter 32

  It was close to nine by this point, and I knew there was no sense in trying to track down Sybil Horn at this late hour. Nine might not be considered late in New York, but in Holmes County, it might as well be midnight.

  I had told my grandmother I was going to stay at my own house tonight, but now that darkness had fallen, fear prickled at the back of my neck. I drove back to the center of the village and called Aiden.

  “Where are you? Are you all right?” he asked without even saying hello.

  “I’m driving back to the village from Millie Fisher’s house. I—I think I want to spend one more night at the shop for Maami,” I added quickly, unable to show any weakness, not even to Aiden.

  “For Maami?” he asked.

  “She really wants me to be there. I don’t want her to worry.”

  “I think that’s wise.” There was a smile in his voice. “No one wants to make Clara worry.”