Drizzle of Death

by CeeCee James

  Again, the head shake.

  “Ye can’ not be bothering them if they have no recollect. We have hundreds of customers. To us, all you English look alike.” His lip curled in disdain to show what he thought of us.

  I tried harder. “There was a girl who was sitting with you. She asked me to come talk to her. Where is she now?”

  The young woman paled and twined a bit of yarn around her finger. “I see many people. I can’t say where she is.”

  My eyes narrowed at her word usage. She wasn’t lying after all. She really couldn’t say.

  It quickly became obvious we weren’t going to get any more information. I didn’t bother to ask anyone else. As soon as the Amish workers saw Elder Yoder, they shied away.

  Officer Jefferson made one more attempt at getting information. “Listen, Miss Tanner here says she saw a seriously injured young man. We’d really like to know where he is.”

  Elder Yoder’s brow wrinkled as though puzzled. “If we had an injured young man, I’m sure he’s at his home in our doctor’s care. We don’t expect the English to get involved in our affairs. Now, if I can excuse myself.”

  “Can you direct us to his home so that we can see for ourselves?”

  “Truly, how would I know where he’s gone off to? He’s of accountable age.”

  Jefferson stiffened, and I could see he was struggling, but there was nothing any of us could do.

  Chapter 5

  The investigation ended rather abruptly, with Elder Yoder demanding we leave the premises. Frank made a show of trying to decide if he was going to stick around, but without an injured person, he had no case.

  I climbed into my van, feeling like a destroyer. I’d let myself get bullied over a sick boy, lost a girl and possibly endangered her, and was completely helpless to change any of the circumstances. Frank started his car and stared at me through his window. I knew he wouldn’t drive away unless I let him know I was okay, so I gave him a thumbs up, and a ‘Yay’ fake smile. He nodded and shifted his car into drive, the tires kicking up dirt as he spun it back onto the road.

  With a backfire and a jerk, I slowly followed in my van, my eyes glued to the forest that stretched along the side of the road.

  Where was Mary? And, more importantly, where was Jacob?

  The next morning, I woke up in my apartment, drained with the feeling of failure. A young girl had asked me for help for her hurting friend. And somehow, in a matter of hours, I’d lost the both of them.

  Sighing, I climbed out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. I should make myself something to eat, but I wasn’t that hungry, knowing that I’d be lucky to scrounge up peanut butter and jelly from the cupboards at this time before my paycheck. I’d eat at Cecelia’s later. She probably wouldn’t mind, especially if I did the dishes.

  I knew what would make me feel better. Where was my fuzzy bathrobe? I searched for the purple puff of softness and found it in the laundry hamper. Dirty or not, I needed it today. It was my idea of decadence, like finding just that right scent of body wash, or the perfect espresso at a coffee stand. Grandma had gotten me the robe for my twentieth birthday. It had seen better days but I still I wore it. There was makeup on one arm from where I’d wiped my eyeshadow brushes, and a few thin patches from the many times through the washing machine. Still, it reminded me of Grandma’s hugs and I snuggled into it now.

  After tying the belt around my waist, I flopped into the kitchen chair. Sitting on an easel before me was a canvas painted with a background of cerulean blue. Painting was another thing I did for comfort. I grabbed my brush and dipped it into purple acrylic and began painting monster swirls. I added pear green and cadmium yellow and suddenly flowers emerged. A field of grass, blue sky.

  I swirled one of the brushes in water. The frustrated feeling had eased, but not enough. I had to find the girl. There was nothing for it.

  What had Mary said? That there was a man’s farm that Jacob had gotten into trouble on. Could I find it?

  Not without my partner in crime. With a smile, I called my best friend, Kari. We’d known each other from high school, but with her being the head cheerleader and me the head library nerd, our common ground back then was about the size of a postage stamp. But adulthood changes a lot of things and it wasn’t long after graduation that our close friendship fell into place.

  She answered on the first ring. “What do you want? I’m in a PTA meeting,” she hissed.

  “Want to get out of it? I need some help. Can you meet me at my apartment?”

  The phone muffled, but I could still hear her tell someone, “Sorry, it’s my kids. The house is flooding. Dishwasher, I guess.” Then she was back on the line. “I’m on my way.”

  I chuckled as I hung up. I could always count on her.

  Ten minutes later, my phone rang again.

  “I’m downstairs,” Kari said. “Need me to come up?”

  “Nah. I’m on my way down. You’re quite the liar, by the way. I’m impressed.”

  She harrumphed. “It’s one of those sweet skills you gain when married. Gives you the right tone when convincing your husband that the bag of frozen chicken casserole really did take hours to make.”

  I laughed and locked the door. I found her by the curb, car idling and blinkers on. I opened the passenger door to her scooting school books to the back seat.

  “Watch your step. I think there’s a chicken nugget on the floor,” she warned.

  I climbed in with a little trepidation.

  “Oh, come on. You go into graveyards for a living. What’s a little chicken nugget to you? Now, where are we going?” she asked, glancing into the mirror and shifting into drive. The car jerked forward as I was trying to find my seatbelt. Quickly, I buckled it.

  “I need to get to Sunny Acres,” I said, feeling a little breathless as she sped through an ancient yellow light that turned red the second we hit the intersection.

  “Really? And why is that?” She laid on the horn at the next intersection. “Buddy! It won’t get any greener!”

  “Err,” I knew better than to say anything. She didn’t see anything weird about her driving. Her husband was just as aggressive as she was. “I lost somebody. Rather, two somebodies. A young man who was injured and a girl.”

  She nodded as she considered what I’d said. Her hand left the steering wheel unmanned to tuck a stray blonde curl behind her ear, making me suck in my breath. “How, pray tell, did you lose two people in the middle of Amish country?”

  I tightened my seatbelt. “The girl came to get help for the boy. But then we were chased off by one of the Elders. And by the time I came back with the police, everyone had disappeared. But I have an idea of where the girl went. And I need my side-kick to help me find her.”

  “Side-kick?” Her eyes narrowed. “What are we, super heroes? I’m no Robin, let me tell you.”

  “No, more like Laverne and Shirley.”

  “More like Thelma and Louise, you mean,” she snorted, stepping on the gas. “Because I have a feeling this little missing person search of yours is not going to end in our favor.”

  “It’s an adventure! When was the last time you’d been on one?” I wheedled a little.

  She sighed. “Don’t forget. The last time you used the word adventure, we ended up at the police department.”

  “Please. That was ages ago. A lot has changed since then.”

  “Well, we’ll see.”

  We arrived at the Amish community. I stared out at all the fields. I wasn’t sure if I’d find what I was looking for but I remembered Mary had mentioned a tractor and a huge red silo.

  Kari was venting about her night of no sleep. “It’s been a crazy week. Colby had a science project that he neglected to tell me about until the night before, and Christina had a slumber party. The girls wanted to watch House. A cute cartoon, right? No. At one in the morning, my bedroom door flew open and eight screaming six-year-olds jumped on my bed. Joe was not happy. He’d been having fitful night sleep because he�
��s been keeping an eye out for a bunch of hoodlums doing drug deals in our neighborhood that our HOA has been warning us about. I’m telling you—”

  “What’s that?” I interrupted.

  “What, this?” She pointed to a driveway that had a little makeshift flower stand made from a tent and a table. Painted milk cans lined the front. But that’s not what caught my eye.

  In the distance was a silo with a red roof. It had to be the one Mary had mentioned.

  “Let’s go here,” I said, pointing to the flower stand.

  A young Amish girl manned the stand. She stood as Kari slowed the car down.

  I rolled down the window. “Hi, there.”

  “Afternoon, ma’am.” Her face appeared drawn and serious under her black bonnet. She didn’t smile at my greeting.

  “What beautiful flowers.” I admired the bundles. It was rare to see flowers so early in the season, but the yellow bunches of daffodils and purple hyacinth brightened the underside of the tent.

  I glanced out into the field. In the distance, I could see men, presumably her father and brothers, tilling the land.

  “Do you own all this land?” I asked her.

  “Yes ma’am,” she answered. My heart twisted at how solemn she was.

  “What is going on there?” Kari gestured toward an open barn. Loud sounds of sawing came from it.

  The young girl glanced over her shoulder and whispered. “They be making a coffin.”

  Kari’s face fell.

  I was equally as surprised. “I’m so sorry,” I said, my hand reaching for the seatbelt at my chest and squeezing it. “Someone close to you?”

  The girl shifted uncomfortably and then nodded. “But it’s important to remember that life comes and life goes, like the weeds thrown into the fire.”

  I froze, hearing the parable again.

  Kari nudged me. “You ready to go?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  Numbness filled me as I tried to process what the young girl meant. And what was I going to do next?

  I rolled up the window as Kari let off the brake. We drove past the plowed field toward the direction of the red silo. I watched for signs of a driveway. The property plat was huge and we seemed to drive for a long time until, finally, we came to a break in the fence. It gave a glimpse to a long driveway that wound through the trees, its ending out of sight.

  “What do we do now?” Kari asked, squinting as she studied it.

  I looked at her.

  She stared back at me. “Looks like they might have dogs. A shotgun. And lots of those pesky Do Not Trespass signs.” She blinked and I still said nothing, my brain trying to spin up a plan. She sighed. “You really want to go down there?”

  “No. You’re right. Keep driving,” I agreed, grimly.

  “You sure? Because we could totally Thelma and Louise the driveway.”

  “Maybe there’s another way. Let’s just keep going.” Even though the red silo was teasing me, I didn’t have a good reason to go knocking on some stranger’s door.

  Kari crept past the driveway to give me a good chance to change my mind. There were men working in this field as well. I knew some of them had to see us, but they didn’t react.

  She started speeding up when she saw I wasn’t going to stop her. The property’s fence seemed to continue forever and the driveway was a good ways off when I saw the pond. I straightened, remembering Mary’s story of a tractor that Jacob had gotten stuck in the water, which caused the first fight.

  We came up upon an Amish woman walking along the side of the road. Her dark dress made her almost blend into the dirt background, except for the white of her apron and a white head covering.

  I turned in my seat as we passed. The woman’s face was streaked with tears.

  “Can you pull over?” I asked Kari.

  She responded so abruptly that my seatbelt locked. I scrambled to unlock it and climbed out.

  The woman stopped, her eyes wary.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, with my hands up. “I’m not trying to scare you. We were driving by and noticed you were upset. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She glanced at the field, but we’d long passed the working men. Her fists clenched tightly to her side and she blinked hard. Then the fight seemed to drain out of her and she wilted before my eyes. I don’t think I’d ever seen a more broken woman. Including my own face reflecting in the mirror after Derek died.

  I took a step forward. “I’m not going to hurt you. How can I help?”

  Kari climbed out of the van, and the woman flinched at the sound of the car door.

  “It’s okay,” I said soothingly. “She just wants to help too.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” the woman said. Her voice was husky from crying.

  “Does this have to do with Jacob?” I took a chance and asked.

  She jerked at the sound of his name and swiftly looked over her shoulder. Her buttoned boots scraped in the gravel. When she turned back my way, her mouth quivered as if she might burst into tears again.

  “What do you know of him?” she whispered. “Are you one of the English he got into trouble with?”

  “I … I saw him yesterday,” I stammered, suddenly terrified of her relationship with him and what might have happened.

  Her body stiffened as though electrified. “Where did you see him?”

  “At the wheelhouse by Sunny Acres. A young girl led me there.”

  At the words “young girl,” the woman burst into tears. Her mouth dropped open as though she were screaming, but no sound came out.

  I ran over. “What’s wrong? Do you know Mary?”

  “She’s gone,” she gasped.

  “Gone?” Cold chills ran down my spine. “Do you think she’s hiding? I saw her with her friend.”

  “Naomi is back, but Mary is still gone. Naomi knows not of where she is. Mary was supposed to be back for milking. She never came home. No one has seen her.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Rebekah,” she said simply.

  “Where are you going right now?”

  “To the pond.”

  “Why is that?” I pressed gently.

  “Because Mary liked to hide in the back of this property.” She bit her lip. “I’m hoping she’s there. Maybe something scared her off.”

  I remembered how Mary had told me about the tractor. Now it occurred to me that it might not have been a story she heard, but something she might have seen first hand.

  “Are you allowed in the van? Can we drive together?” I asked.

  Naomi’s eyebrows rose in uncertainty.

  “Okay. How about if I walk with you? Is that okay?” I asked.

  She nodded and the creases under her eyes lessoned in relief.

  “Kari!” I yelled. “Can you wait here?”

  I heard the car door close, and then Kari stuck her hand out the window, giving me a thumbs up.

  Rebekah and I continued to walk down the road. Silently, we made our way around the field. Finally, she headed down the ditch and through the fence. I followed. We pushed through the weeds and, up ahead, I could see the pond.

  “Mary told me he worked here,” I pointed ahead.

  “This farm belongs to Mr. Murray. I don’t know much about him, other than he’s the one who owned the tractor that Jacob lost.”

  Rebekah walked over to the pond and pointed to the grass. The grass was torn up, possibly from when they pulled out the tractor. There were odd footprints, the muddy tread marks noticeable stamped with a circle and a K.

  “How did everyone find out?” I stepped closer to where Rebekah pointed.

  “Mary. She went for a walk and saw it happen.”

  “A walk or…?”

  “Perhaps she was hiding in her cave. She liked to go there in the evening after she supped.”

  With that, she turned and headed up a hill.

  Chapter 6

  The grass was a
tangled mess up here on the hill. But I could still faintly see a trail where the grass was parted. Someone had been this way recently.

  Rebekah pushed through silently as the weeds grabbed onto her skirt. One briar bush stuck ferociously, and she ripped it free. I winced at the tearing sound but she didn’t seem to notice.

  I glanced up and could make out a dark mark way up on the hillside. That must be the cave we were aiming for. Birds chirped from the frail branches of the bushes around us.

  Rebekah panted and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a dirty smudge behind.

  “You doing okay?” I asked.

  She nodded but I was worried. Her face was an odd color. Cheeks flushed red, but otherwise a gray complexion. My heart squeezed for her as she cast a hopeful gaze up the hillside.

  The bushes held tiny buds of promised leaves. I thought maybe they were blueberries, but it had been a long time since anyone had attended them. They grew out from their neat rows and intertwined branches with one another.

  We continued up the hill. It was odd how silent everything was, and my breath was loud in my ears. The hillside was steep, with the sun beating on the crown of my head as I watched my footing.

  “We’re here,” Rebekah murmured. She brushed back a large bush that partially blocked the entrance and disappeared inside.

  My hope disintegrated at her continued silence. There must be no one in there. Feeling like there was a lead ball in my stomach, I pushed through the branches and crawled after her.

  It was a narrow crevasse with barely enough room for me to stand without banging my head on the jagged ceiling. It took a second for my eyes to adjust.

  As I dreaded, Mary wasn’t there. Rebekah stood with her hands wringing the front of her skirt. Her knuckles were white from her effort.

  “We’ll find her,” I said, softly touching her elbow. Her eyes filled with tears at my words.

  “Maybe she’s hiding somewhere else,” I suggested. “Maybe she’d been discovered here and has another safe place.”

  I studied the narrow space for clues. The cave floor was swept clean. Chalk drawings filled an entire wall. A book was in the corner next to a stub of a candle. Crouching, I walked over to read the cover. Beautiful Thoughts.