Confection is Good for the Soul: An Amish Cupcake Cozy Mystery

by Ruth Hartzler

  “What has?” I asked in.

  “The thallium,” he said. “It hasn’t been produced in this country for decades, so how did the murderer get some?”

  Just then, James’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and threw the phone down on the nearest couch.

  “Bad news?” Matilda asked him.

  “Debt collectors,” he spat. “I’m afraid Judy ran up a lot of bills. She spent over fifteen thousand dollars advertising her cookbook.”

  I was aghast. So the figures were accurate, after all. When I finally found my voice, I said, “You mean the ebook? The one she sold for seventy cents a copy?”

  He nodded. “Even though it got really high in the rankings, it only made around two thousand dollars in royalties. That’s a loss of fourteen thousand dollars.”

  “But why would someone do that?” Matilda asked in an obvious attempt to keep him talking.

  “Judy said she’d easily make the money back with courses,” he said. “She was already selling a course on how to write and market a cookbook, even though she had only just produced the one. I told her time and time again that she didn’t have the benefit of trying something over a long time, but she didn’t care. She was fixated on these courses and she was sure would make money out of them.”

  “So, was she a good businesswoman?” I said to prompt him.

  “Obviously not!” he said in a raised voice, followed by, “Forgive me. We’ll have no way of ever knowing because she did have a lot of people signing up to her course. Still, she had spent over ten thousand dollars on her second cookbook. She spent all our savings and of course, these animals cost a lot to feed. She wanted to feed them all the cheapest possible dog food, but it was making them sick so I insisted we had to give them better quality care and she didn’t like that.”

  “So she wasn’t an animal lover?” Eleanor asked him.

  He pulled a face. “I’m afraid the only person or animal Judy loved was herself. I’m sorry I can’t be any more help to you,” he said again.

  Matilda stood up. “To the contrary, you’ve been a tremendous help. I’m terribly sorry for your loss and everything you’re going through.”

  We made our way through the minefield of dog stains on the carpet and walked outside. I took lots of deep breaths to clear the dreadful odors from my lungs.

  When we were driving away, I said, “I feel so dreadfully sorry for him. I hope he isn’t the murderer, because it’s just too sad.”

  “You know I usually have no sympathy for murderers, but I agree with you in this case,” Matilda said. “Agatha Christie did let some murderers get away with it, most famously in Murder On the Orient Express and The Chocolate Box.

  “I’m sorry for him too for having a wife such as that!” Eleanor said angrily. “I have no time for people who pretend they like animals just to put their photos on social media.”

  “It was a waste of time speaking with him, I suppose,” I said as I took a left, leaving the cul-de-sac. “We didn’t find out anything. He doesn’t really have a definite suspect in mind.”

  “Maybe because he did it,” Matilda said. “But did you notice he knew Karen was going to give her notice? Perhaps Karen and James were in it together.”

  Eleanor sighed long and hard. “Really, Matilda, you always think people are in it together.”

  “They were in most Agatha Christie books,” Matilda countered.

  “Do you really mean ‘most’?” Eleanor asked her.

  “Eleanor, rather than trying to catch me out, don’t you think you should turn your attention to thallium. Why is thallium used today? I suggest you turn your attention to that.”

  “I already have,” Eleanor said rather smugly. “Thallium is used in manufacturing electronic devices, and it’s also important for use in certain chemistry labs. I also found out it’s very hard to diagnose because the clinical manifestations are highly complicated. Judy had all the symptoms of thallium poisoning, and hair loss does occur two to three weeks after the initial poisoning. You can’t blame her doctor for not diagnosing it.”

  “Eleanor, why didn’t you tell me you had discovered the uses of thallium in this country?”

  Eleanor pouted. “You didn’t ask.”

  I knew a fresh round of bickering was about to break out, so I said, “I take it we will be going to the funeral tomorrow?”

  “Yes, of course,” Matilda said with a wave of her hand.

  “The detectives will think we’re investigating,” I pointed out. “Detective McCloud won’t be pleased to see me there.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Matilda said with a wink. “And more to the point, you will be pleased to see him there.” She and Eleanor giggled.

  Chapter 13

  When I got home, we found a note from Rebecca to the effect that Wanda Hershberger had information for us. I called Wanda’s phone in her barn, but there was no answer.

  “We will have to go and speak with her in person,” Matilda said. “Waneta must have passed along some information. Eleanor, your cat has stolen the keys again.”

  Mr. Crumbles was sitting on the couch looking entirely too pleased with himself. “How can you blame Mr. Crumbles?” Eleanor protested. “He’s been asleep and now he’s sitting there minding his own business.”

  “He must have hidden the keys earlier, Eleanor. Where would they be?”

  “I’m not looking in his litter tray this time,” I said. “I’ll look under the furniture.”

  “So will I,” Matilda said. “Eleanor, it’s your turn to look in the litter tray.”

  “But it’s due to be cleaned out tonight,” Eleanor protested. When neither of us said anything in response, she sighed and walked away.

  After a few moments later, we heard a shriek and then the sound of running water.

  “I wonder why Mr. Crumbles likes to steal keys and put them in his litter?” I asked Matilda.

  “I have no idea,” she said warily.

  Eleanor returned, waving the keys at me. “I’ve cleaned them thoroughly. I used disinfectant.” Nevertheless, she was holding them on the very edge. She handed them to me. The scent of pine disinfectant was overpowering.

  “I wonder if we could train Mr. Crumbles not to steal keys,” I said hopefully.

  Eleanor folded her arms over her chest. “You will have to leave them somewhere he can’t find them, Jane.”

  “I’m sure I put them in a drawer in my bedroom,” I said, doing my best to remember. “I don’t see how he could possibly open the drawer.”

  “Did you maybe leave the drawer open for a few minutes anytime after we came back from visiting James Jenkins?”

  I thought about it. “Yes I did, but only for a few moments.”

  Mr. Crumbles looked up at me. I was certain he was smirking at me.

  “Never mind, you have your keys now. Let’s go!” Matilda said. “I’m quite excited to hear Wanda’s news.”

  On the way to the Hershberger farm, Matilda and Eleanor argued as to whether Wanda would be home. I was relieved when she answered the door.

  “Come in, come in,” she said as she ushered us inside. “I was just about to have dinner. You must join me.”

  “Denki,” I said. “That would be wunderbar.”

  Matilda and Eleanor knew enough about the Amish by now to know that anyone who dropped by at dinner time would be fed. It’s just the way it was.

  “I thought you might come around at this time, so I have John Cope’s Corn ready for you,” Wanda said.

  Matilda shot me a puzzled look. I thought I had better explain. “With John Cope’s Corn, the corn is soaked in milk and topped with sugar before it’s baked. Some people stew it in butter instead.”

  We all helped Wanda carry the plates into the living room: John Cope’s Corn, chicken pot pie, sauerkraut, pickled beets, chow chow, pickles, cheese, apple butter, mashed potato, as well as Shoo-fly pie for after the main meal. There were also pretzels, as Amish love to eat salty pretzels with ice cr
eam. The Amish in this community usually put the dessert on the table at the same time as the main meal, although of course, they left the ice cream until the last minute.

  We bowed our heads for the silent prayer. I silently recited the Lord’s Prayer and then opened my eyes just as Wanda did. Matilda and Eleanor still had their eyes tightly shut, so I cleared my throat loudly. They both peeked out of one eye and then opened both eyes.

  “We’re excited about the news you have to tell us,” Matilda said. It was clear she couldn’t wait a second longer to hear Wanda had to say.

  “My daughter found out about the anonymous gifts.”

  “Anonymous gifts?” Matilda repeated.

  “Jah. Waneta said they found thallium in several anonymous gifts.”

  “What was in the gifts?” Matilda said.

  “Chocolates, perfume, body lotion, stuff like that,” Wanda said.

  I was aghast. “You don’t mean to say someone sent her all these gifts and every last one of them had thallium in them?”

  Wanda nodded slowly. “Yes, they all contained high levels of thallium. It’s odorless and tasteless, you see. The gifts had been arriving for over three weeks.”

  “And they were anonymous?” I asked her.

  “Yes. The card simply said they were from an admirer. I forget the exact words.” She tapped her head. “I wish Waneta had written it down for me. No, I’m sure that’s it. She said the card always said, ‘From an admirer.’ I do know that every card said the same thing.”

  “And Judy wasn’t suspicious at all?” I said with a frown.

  “Why would she be?” Matilda said. “It’s clear she had a huge ego. Of course, someone like that would actually think admirers were sending her gifts.”

  “If someone sent me chocolates with a note from an anonymous admirer, I wouldn’t eat the chocolates,” I said.

  “That’s because you’ve read so many Agatha Christie books,” Matilda said cheerily. “After all, poisoned chocolates featured in Peril at End House, At Bertram’s Hotel, and The Chocolate Box for example.”

  “I haven’t read an Agatha Christie book for years,” I said. After a few moments I added, “I have watched the series on TV. What if Judy’s husband had eaten the chocolates?”

  Matilda helped herself to some more applesauce. “That’s a good point. We must find out if James had any symptoms. Maybe he poisoned himself just a little to throw suspicion off himself. That’s a common device Agatha Christie used.”

  I set down my fork. “What was?”

  Matilda leaned across the table. “To have the murderer appear to be in danger, of course. She did it in Sad Cypress and in….”

  “Well, at least we know how the vic was poisoned now.” Eleanor interrupted Matilda in a loud voice, presumably to prevent Matilda from launching into a long discourse about Agatha Christie. “That should take the heat off Rebecca.”

  I quirked one eyebrow. “How so?” I thought I was making headway with sleuthing, but those two ladies always managed to out-sleuth me.

  “Because the police suspected Rebecca left poisoned sample cupcakes out for Judy,” Eleanor said. “She wouldn’t have needed to do that if she had poisoned her, would she? She would give her poisoned cupcakes in her store.”

  Eleanor tapped her chin. “No, not if Rebecca was a very clever murderer. Then she would send anonymous gifts while feeding the vic the poisoned cupcakes from her store. That’s what a really clever murderer would do.”

  I took one look at Wanda’s face and thought I had better change the subject. “So how are things in the community?” I asked her.

  She smiled at me. “Everything is the same as ever. Sarah Zapp wants Elijah Nauman to take her for a buggy ride, but he is interested in her little sister, Naomi. Everyone seems to know that apart, from Sarah and Naomi.”

  “Sounds a difficult situation,” I said.

  Wanda shook her head. “Nehemiah Niedermeyer wants to ask Sarah on a buggy ride. I think it all will work out fine.”

  I chuckled. “I hope so.” It wasn’t until I left the Amish and watched soap operas that I realized how intricate the Amish youth’s love lives actually were. The Amish believe that God has appointed one man for every woman and one woman for every man. They don’t think it has anything to do with chance. It was a nice idea really, but I wasn’t so sure. I had certainly missed out, but then again, I was no longer Amish.

  Matilda’s words brought me back to reality. “You’re a million miles away, Jane.”

  I shot her a wry smile. “I was just thinking about something.”

  “You are thinking about love,” Wanda said.

  It was a shrewd observation. The Amish don’t believe in divorce, so I didn’t know if Wanda approved of me being a divorced woman. Then again, I’m sure everyone in the community was well aware my husband had run off with a college student and subsequently married her and now they had a baby.

  “We have an important question for Waneta,” Matilda said. “There were postmarks on the packages, obviously. Does Waneta know where the gifts came from?”

  Eleanor interrupted her. “Was it local?”

  Wanda set down her knife and leaned across the table. “Yes, that’s the interesting thing. All the gifts were postmarked ‘Ellende’.”

  “That’s over one hundred miles from here,” I said.

  Matilda swallowed some potato rapidly and then coughed, before saying, “It’s a very small town. Let’s travel to the post office there after the funeral and ask if they remember anyone.”

  “But the staff in a post office wouldn’t remember anyone, would they?” I said. “They must get hundreds of people in there every day.”

  Matilda shook her finger at me. “That’s where you’re wrong. I know that town and it’s quite small. Small towns take careful note of strangers.”

  “What makes you think it was a stranger?” Wanda asked her.

  “Because Judy Jenkins has newly arrived in town,” Matilda said. “Only a month ago, to be precise. All the suspects are living in these parts. Whoever did it traveled to that town to ship the items. From my experience, people in small towns are usually nosy and fond of gossip. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she said with a wave of her hand. “In fact, it could prove quite useful to us.”

  “But why wouldn’t the murderer go to a big town with a large post office?” I said. “That would surely make more sense because then the murderer could be entirely anonymous and no one would remember them.”

  Matilda frowned. “That’s a very good point, Jane. I must admit it’s one that has me stumped. What about you, Eleanor?”

  Eleanor looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t have a clue,” she said after an interval. “There must be a reason.”

  “Well, no matter,” Matilda said. “Tomorrow is the funeral. After the funeral, we’ll go to the post office.”

  “But we can’t leave Rebecca alone in the shop for all that time,” I said.

  Matilda and Eleanor exchanged glances. Matilda nodded to Eleanor. “In that case Eleanor, you can stay. You will go to the funeral and I will go to the post office.”

  “I’d rather go to the post office and you can go to the funeral,” Eleanor said.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I said. “How about we clear the plates before dessert?”

  Something was bugging me. Why indeed would the murderer go to a small town rather than a town with a big post office? I figured whoever it was must have business in the general vicinity. I made a mental note to look at a map and see if Ellende was en route to somewhere connected with any of the suspects. If we discovered one of the suspects had business in one of those towns, then that would provide a valuable clue.

  Chapter 14

  I was anxious about going to Judy Jenkins’s funeral. I was worried about what Damon would say. After all, he would know I was there simply to investigate. I knew he was none too happy about me being involved. My stomach churned all the way to the funeral, and I had to force myself t
o focus on driving.

  “I’m glad Eleanor finally let me go to the funeral and agreed to go to the post office,” Matilda said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “It didn’t take me long to talk into her into it either. That’s a surprise.”

  I was certain Eleanor had always wanted to go to the post office, but I wasn’t about to remind Matilda. It was better she thought she had the victory.

  “Jane, you’ve been quiet the whole way. What’s on your mind?”

  “I don’t want the police to be annoyed with me,” I said.

  “You mean Detective McCloud, don’t you?” Matilda chuckled.

  I sighed. “Sure. I don’t want him to be annoyed with me.”

  “You want to solve the murder, don’t you? You don’t want Rebecca to be thrown in jail?”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” I countered. “They’re hardly likely to throw Rebecca in jail or even arrest her.”

  “You never know what they’re likely to do,” Matilda said. “They haven’t arrested anyone at this point so no one’s safe.”

  The service was being held at the same building as the book launch. “I wonder why it’s not in a church?” I said to Matilda after we arrived. There were five vases of white lilies, but nothing else that suggested it was a funeral service. I used to like lilies before I came to associate them with funerals. Now, the pungent scent all but gave me a headache.

  “Because James is trying to cut costs,” a voice said.

  I turned around to see Selena Starr. She was elegant, all dressed in white contrasting with the more somber tones of everyone else. Waves of jasmine, rose, patchouli, and ylang ylang clung to her, along with other delightful floral fragrances I could not identify.

  “What do you mean?” I asked her. Maybe I should start wearing perfume too. I did love fragrances, but mainly from flowers in the garden. Being raised Amish, perfume and jewelry had both been absent from my childhood.

  “James probably can’t afford a big funeral,” Selena said. “He’s already leasing this building and I’ve heard he’s not paying a minister or anyone else to conduct the funeral.”