by Emma Miller
“I love my mother and father, and home is home. I love it in the kitchen when Mam and my sisters are there, but right now, it’s easier when I stay away.”
Rachel rolled the marker between her fingers. “Aunt Hannah blames me, doesn’t she? She probably thinks I’m a bad influence on you. Tempting you into the world’s false vanities.”
Her cousin rolled her eyes. “Actually, that sounds more like Dat. It’s depressing. Everyone keeps telling me to make up my mind, and the more they try to force me, the less I’m sure of what I want.”
Rachel came over to the bed. “What about Timothy? He’s already baptized. If you leave the Amish faith, you can’t be married. Do you care for him?”
“Of course I do, but I’m not sure it’s what you feel for Evan. Does that make sense?” She shrugged. “Timothy is such a good person. But, in spite of his goofing around, he’s devout. You’re right. There’s no way he would ever leave the faith. His mother is trying to convince him to court one of the Miller twins.”
Rachel sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed Bishop’s head. The big Siamese closed his eyes and began to purr loudly. “How do you feel about that? Would you be hurt if he did start courting someone else?”
Mary Aaron worried at the corner of a thumbnail. “That’s the thing. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I want Timothy to be happy, and the Miller twins are both sweet. Either of them would make a good wife for him. You know them, Emma and Annie. They live right next door to Timothy’s parents, and the two families have always been friendly. It would be a good match.”
“For you as a way of getting away from him, or for one of the twins?”
Mary Aaron grimaced. “I thought we came up here to try and figure out who killed Daniel Fisher, not dissect my private life.”
“Sorry. But I worry about you,” Rachel said, patting her cousin. “You know I just want you to be happy. I’ll support you, no matter what you choose.”
Mary Aaron exhaled. “I know that. I’m just . . .” She shrugged again. “Let’s not talk about this anymore tonight.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak again, but Mary Aaron whispered, “Please?”
With a quick smile, Rachel returned to the whiteboard. “So, no information from any hunters, except Joe and Lemuel and Rosh. Can you think of anything we haven’t looked at? Anyone who would have a reason to kill Daniel?” She erased the column that said Hunters and replaced it with Persons of Interest. Without further comment, she listed Moses, Mary Rose, Rosh, and Charles Baker.
“Why Mary Rose?” Mary Aaron knitted her brows. “She’d have the most to lose, wouldn’t she?”
“I don’t really think she’s a suspect, but I’m getting desperate here. If Moses didn’t do it, someone did.”
“And Rosh?”
“I think he has a serious crush on Mary Rose. He watches her all the time. That’s how he knew the police were there that day that they arrested Moses. Who knows what he thought? He’s a strange kid.” She shrugged. “Maybe he thought if Daniel was out of the way, he could marry her.”
“Sounds far-fetched.”
“You think I should take his name off the board?” Rachel picked up the black felt eraser.
“No, leave him there. We know from the past that nothing is as far-fetched as the truth.” Mary Aaron, still seated on the bed, nodded at the board. “And the Englisher? You said he was nice. You still think he might have shot Daniel?”
Rachel stared at the board. “Truthfully? No. It’s beginning to look more and more as though Moses really did do it. But why? An accidental shooting is one thing. But Evan said he was shot twice, consecutive shots. Why shoot Daniel a second time? That doesn’t fit with Moses’s personality. I just can’t see him committing a violent act like that. The whole confession is just so . . . dramatic . . . like something you’d see in a movie. What if he’s trying to protect his sister?” She pointed to Mary Rose’s name.
“If what you suspect is true,” Mary Aaron pointed out, “that Daniel may have been beating her, that’s motive.”
Rachel set the eraser back on the table. “I don’t want that to be the answer. Maybe it’s easier to think that Chuck could have killed him. He was a soldier. And we know he’s taken human lives before. That would make solving this easier, don’t you think?”
“Do you want easy or do you want to find out what really happened? Maybe you should add Lemuel to that list. Joe said that Daniel hurt him that day. Maybe he was angry and confronted Daniel. Maybe—”
Rachel shook her head. “Lemuel is hardly more than a child.”
Mary Aaron sighed. “So we’re back where we started. We don’t really have anything, either to help Moses or to hurt him.”
“I don’t know; I might be onto something with the idea that Daniel was abusive. I had the feeling that Salome knew more than she was willing to tell me.”
Mary Aaron retrieved Bishop’s favorite cat toy from the bed and tossed it in front of the cat. The big Siamese yawned and stretched out his front paws, disdaining to chase the feathered mouse. “You got the message I left for you on the bulletin board by the computer, didn’t you? Bella said you were supposed to come down and make your final choices for flowers for the wedding, but you didn’t come in.”
Rachel grimaced and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “That was when I was at the midwife’s place. I completely forgot my appointment with Bella. It would be a lot simpler if this were an Amish wedding. Why do they make it so complicated? I just want to get married.”
“Simple?” Mary Aaron chuckled. “Your mother would invite two hundred of her closest friends and relatives and we’d be making bushels of creamed celery.”
Rachel’s smile was wry. “We’ll probably have close to that many guests. And, thankfully, Mam and your mother are in charge of the food. That’s another thing. Evan’s mother expects canapés and she’s still complaining that there will be no champagne. She wanted us to have one of those multitiered cakes with a little bride and groom on the top. I tried to explain to her that we have a table full of cakes baked by our guests, but she doesn’t get it.”
“Will you have to have Thanksgiving dinner with her tomorrow?”
Rachel nodded. “We’re taking her out to a restaurant. Apparently, it’s a family tradition. It’s been the two of them since his father died, and she’s not much of a cook.”
“A restaurant?” Mary Aaron looked dubious. “Will they have turkey?”
“Of course. With all the trimmings.”
“But it will be a store-bought turkey, not one his mother raised and cooked.”
Rachel laughed. “I cannot picture my future mother-in-law ever plucking and cooking a turkey. Next year, I’ll do the cooking, and I’m sure Ada will find me one raised by one of her daughters or granddaughters.” She crossed to the small refrigerator. “Hungry? I’ve got sandwiches and a big salad.”
“Mmm, sounds good.”
“Is your family fasting again on Thanksgiving?” Rachel asked. Her own parents and most of the Old Order Amish she knew would spend the day in quiet prayer. There wouldn’t be worship services, but instead of roast turkey and all the side dishes there would be bread and cheese and some simple fruit such as apples. Thanksgiving was not to be a day of celebrating but one of contemplation, Bible reading, and personal communion with God.
“Ya,” Mary Aaron replied. “I told Mam that I’d be there, so long as you don’t need me here at Stone Mill House.”
“You go. We have only two rooms occupied, and I’ve invited Mrs. Morris to join us for dinner. The Wiggens family is going to a friend’s house in Belleville. I’m not sure if Mrs. Morris will feel up to it, but if she does come, Evan’s mother will be on her best behavior and the afternoon will go a lot smoother.”
“I hope she’s easier after you and Evan are married,” Mary Aaron said as she unwrapped a roast beef sandwich. “This smells delicious.”
“I put that spicy mustard on it that you like,” Rachel said.
“I think she will be. She has been a really good mother to Evan. I think she’s just afraid that she’ll be alone after we’re married . . . that he won’t be there for her. I told her that will never happen. We may have to rub off a few burrs on both of us, but we’ll adjust. I’d never treat his mother with less respect than my own.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Mary Aaron paused between bites of her sandwich. “I just can’t imagine spending Thanksgiving in a restaurant eating turkey raised in some tiny cage. Will you and Evan and his mother spend time in prayer?”
Rachel considered how to answer. “Just grace. No extended time of prayer.” She picked at the crust of her sandwich. “If you become English, you can still be strong in your faith in God, but in the world God becomes a smaller part of your life. Most English people don’t think of Him first as the Amish do.”
“I wouldn’t be like that,” Mary Aaron said thoughtfully. “I couldn’t be. If I become an Englisher, my faith will still come first.” She looked up at Rachel, her pretty face earnest. “That’s possible, isn’t it? To live a godly life and also drive a car?”
Chapter 13
“Of course it’s possible. It’s something I’ve had to struggle with,” Rachel admitted. “I haven’t always been successful, but I keep trying.”
“And Evan, does he feel the same way?” Mary Aaron’s face was earnest. “Will your home be centered around God?”
“I hope so. But living as an Englisher is harder in some ways than living Amish. Nothing is as simple as it was when I lived at home. The bishop and the elders told us how to live and we did it as best we could. I don’t think we worried as much about staying on the right path because it was laid out for us.”
Mary Aaron winced. “It sounds complicated.”
“It is. My mother told me that the ordnung isn’t a rope to bind us but a cradle to rock us. Does that make sense to you?”
“Ya, it does. Sometimes I get impatient with the rules. They seem silly, like the straight pins instead of buttons and that it’s all right to ride in a car but you can’t own one. But when you get down to it, I can see that buttons are a symbol of something bad in the past.”
“Soldiers who came to kill and imprison us for our faith,” Rachel said.
“Exactly. So, by not using buttons today, we remember those who died rather than deny God’s message. And not having an automobile keeps you closer to family and neighbors.” Mary Aaron smiled. “I’m glad I can talk about it with you. Timothy doesn’t understand. He just accepts the ordnung.”
“But he still sneaks out to see movies and I know he has a cell phone,” Rachel teased.
“Ne, actually he doesn’t. He gave up both. Next thing you know, he’ll be wearing a hat with a wider brim to tell everyone how conservative he is.”
“You think he’s showing off?”
Mary Aaron shook her head. “Ne, it’s just his newfound enthusiasm for the sermons the young preacher gives. Not so much God smiting this one and that and more New Testament and the teachings of Jesus. Mam says give Timothy time and he’ll find his balance. He was a good person before he got so religious and he’ll be a good person after. But she does warn me not to wait too long or I might lose him. She says half the mothers in the valley will be pointing him out to their eligible daughters, and she might be right.”
“She might be. But don’t use that reason to marry. Marry him only if you love him and you know you want to live out your life as he does.”
The two finished their sandwiches in silence and then Rachel returned to the whiteboard. She circled the words Persons of Interest. “I think we need to add Lemuel here as well.”
“Lemuel? Really?”
Rachel stared at the board. “According to Joe Troyer, he and Moses went off together after the fight in the woods between Joe and Daniel. Joe didn’t hunt with him, though. He didn’t hunt with Moses or Lemuel.”
“You think Lemuel did it and Moses covered for him? Or they both did it together?”
“I don’t know. But something was going on in that household.”
“Something bad enough for a fourteen-year-old to kill his brother-in-law?” Mary Aaron asked, her eyes round with surprise.
“My gut tells me that isn’t what happened.” Rachel sighed. “He’s just a kid, but . . .”
“Put him on the list. One of us can talk to him. See if he was with Moses. Maybe you can ask Moses.”
“I don’t know if I can get in to see him in prison again until he’s allowed to have regular visitors.” Rachel added Lemuel’s name on the board under Persons of Interest. “Evan had to call in a favor to get me in the first time.”
“How about Joe? He didn’t seem too fond of Daniel, either,” Mary Aaron suggested. “Maybe he was angry or even embarrassed by what happened that morning. He told you himself he was alone after that. Maybe he came back around and shot Daniel out of that tree stand.”
“Sounds a little far-fetched. Remember, we’re talking about the Amish here.”
“All these scenarios are far-fetched,” Mary Aaron pointed out. “Add him to the list.”
Rachel wrote in Joe beneath Rosh and Lemuel, then turned to her cousin. “I need to talk to Salome again.”
“The midwife?” Mary Aaron looked perplexed. “I thought she wouldn’t say anything about Daniel.”
“It wasn’t what she said. It was what she didn’t say. She got upset and asked me to leave after I brought it up. She knows something that she’s not telling. And my guess is that it has to do with how Daniel treated Mary Rose.”
“Which would mean what? Mary Rose might have killed him?”
“No . . . maybe. I don’t know,” Rachel said. “She could have, I suppose. But it doesn’t seem in her nature.”
“Which brings us back to the idea that someone close to her, someone who loved her and saw her being mistreated, may have decided to do something about it. Someone like her brother.”
“A brother or a friend.”
“You mean Rosh.”
Rachel stood back and stared at the names on the board. “I’m not ready to accuse anyone. I’m just trying to look at the big picture. Who would want Daniel dead and why?”
“So, you do suspect Rosh?”
“He’s always hanging around the Studer farm. And he’s known Mary Rose all his life. My mother said he had a crush on Mary Rose and Alma said pretty much the same thing.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “Maybe he wanted to protect her from Daniel?”
“Or maybe he wanted to get rid of Daniel so he’d have a chance with Mary Rose?”
“Right,” Rachel agreed. “I told you I saw him get out of Mary Rose’s buggy Sunday morning.”
Mary Aaron got up off the bed. “Everyone I know thinks Rosh is harmless. Sweet and a little odd, but a boy with a good heart. Even I think he’s a good kid. I hate to say it, Rae-Rae, but Moses is still the one who looks the guiltiest. And I know you’re tired of people saying this, but he did say he did it.”
Rachel turned to her. “I’m not ready to accept that. Are you sure you can’t think of anything we’ve missed?”
“Not really,” Mary Aaron said. She sliced a section of apple Rachel had put out on the table and dipped it in her mother’s special caramel sauce. “What’s happening with the lawyer? Have you talked to her since she agreed to represent Moses?”
“Tried to. Got nowhere. She took my phone call, but told me in no uncertain terms that anything that passed between her and her client was strictly confidential. She said she appreciated my interest in the boy’s case, but that she couldn’t tell me anything other than that she asked for and got the hearing delayed. She’s hoping that a little time in prison will make Moses reconsider.”
“If he does,” Mary Aaron said, “if he admits he lied, will they let him go?”
“I doubt it. Not unless they get another confession. Unfortunately, the justice system isn’t open to recanting. I’ve been reading up on the subject on the Internet. Apparently, a larg
e percentage of those imprisoned for a crime but later released because of DNA evidence were jailed on false confessions.”
“I’d never confess to anything I didn’t do.” Her cousin munched on her apple.
“Neither would I, but a lot of people do. I have to believe that Moses is one of them. The lawyer did say that she didn’t think it would be helpful for me to visit him again. If I say the wrong thing to Moses, she thinks I might do more harm than good.”
“Which means you can’t ask him if Lemuel hunted with him all day.”
“No. But I can go back and talk to Lemuel again. Maybe he’ll feel a little less intimidated by me and I can find out if he was with Moses.”
Mary Aaron passed Rachel a slice of apple. “This all seems so crazy. Do you really think Moses is innocent and knows who killed Daniel and is trying to protect them?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense with this case.” Rachel set down the marker. “I want to go back and talk to Chuck Baker again, too. I didn’t ask him if he saw anything in the woods that day. Maybe I’ll do that first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mary Aaron volunteered. “I don’t like the idea of you up there in the woods with him by yourself.”
“I thought you promised your parents you’d be there with them for Thanksgiving.”
“I will be. Right after we talk to the crazy English prepper, you can drop me off at the farm. Then you can meet Evan and his mother for your delicious Thanksgiving feast.” Mary Aaron wrinkled her nose. “I think I’d rather be eating bread and butter and praying with the family than going out to a restaurant. Who does that on Thanksgiving?”
“Apparently, I do.” Rachel smiled sheepishly and then they both laughed.
* * *
“Chuck, it’s Rachel. Rachel Mast. Could you let us in?” Rachel said into the intercom at the main gate. She and Mary Aaron had done the over-the-river-and-through-the-woods thing to get around his first defense of barbed wire. “I need to talk to you again. I’ve brought my cousin with me, and I have a sweet potato pie for you. We won’t take up much of your time, I promise.”