Amish Scarecrow Murders

by Samantha Price

  Often, she wondered what her life would’ve been like if her mother had stayed in the community rather than leaving as a young mother, when she—Selena—was a toddler.

  Still parked out in front of her house, movement caught her eye.

  The front door was opening.

  Her heart rate quickened as she shifted the car into gear and sped away hoping the occupants hadn’t seen her. The last thing she wanted was for the Kings to think she was spying on them.

  As she drove through the countryside, she calmed down and was able to breathe in the tranquil surrounds. She was going to love living in the country. Gone was the smog and the skyscrapers, the hectic traffic and the blank faces of strangers as they passed by in the street. A strange sense of peace crept into her heart—she’d finally come home.

  This was a new start—a new chapter in her life. A new life where her lawyer ex-boyfriend would play no part. Now that he was out of the country—on vacation in London—she wasn’t getting abusive text messages every five minutes. After their relationship ended, he’d offered to do the legal work for her over the house.

  Once it was all over, he acted like they were back together. When she told him they were still over, he got upset and then the abusive messages and texts started. They had gathered speed until he left on his vacation.

  When she pulled up outside Gabriel’s immaculately kept cottage, he came hurrying out with his usual ear-to-ear grin. It was hard to be sad or depressed around Gabriel's good nature and warm smiling eyes. He opened the car door for her.

  “Thank you, Gabriel.” In one hand, he held up a set of keys and then he placed them into her hand. “Thank you,” she said looking down at the five keys tied together with a piece of twine.

  “Did you have a good drive down here?”

  “I did. The traffic wasn’t bad at all.”

  “Good to hear. Come inside and I’ll show you around.” His gaze swept over her in an instant. “You’re looking wunderbaar. Just like I remembered you.”

  A giggle escaped her lips. He always made her feel good about herself, but sometimes all that attention overwhelmed her. She’d seen some of his house before, but not all of it. Leaving her luggage in the trunk, she followed him to the house. When they reached the door, he stepped back to allow her through. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve cleaned the place. I gave it a good scrubbing.”

  “You shouldn’t have done anything. I know you always keep it nicely.” She stepped into the living room and it immediately felt like home. That was possibly because of all those subconscious memories from when she was a child visiting at her grandfather’s house, which was so similar. The floorboards were highly polished, one blue-and-white patterned rug covered half the small living room where two, two-seater couches faced each other. A wooden coffee table stood on the rug in between them.

  “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” When they sat, she noticed an embroidered scripture plaque hanging above the fireplace to her left. The only other adornment was a small clock that sat on the mantle.

  “Can I offer you some tea?”

  “No. I’m fine, thank you.” She wondered who had crocheted the colorful throw that lay along the back of the couch. Probably one of the old ladies from his community. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can. It’ll probably be a lot easier to find accommodation now that I’m here. It was a little difficult from a distance.”

  “I’m in no hurry to move back. Take your time. I’m making the other house just as comfortable as this one. It needs work. I had to get the electrical system disconnected from my new place.”

  “Oh! You have no electricity.” She’d forgotten about that. There’d be no Wi-Fi either unless she could pick it up on her phone. Which she'd have to remember to charge whenever she went into town.

  “Everything’s gas-powered.” He offered a warm smile, but she doubted he’d have a gas-powered TV. “Fridge and stove?” she asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Good. It sounds like I’ll have a comfortable stay.” The weather was mild in the spring, so she wouldn’t have to worry about the heating system. Even though the house had a fireplace, she wasn’t used to how fireplaces worked. As far back as she could remember she’d lived in places with central heating.

  “Treat the place like your own. And … who knows what the future might bring?”

  She knew he had liked her from the very first time they’d met. He’d made no secret about it. Now she wondered if she’d done the right thing by accepting his kind offer. He was a nice man, handsome even, but she couldn’t see herself joining his community if that was what he was thinking. “I’ve got a pretty good idea what the future would bring and I hope you don’t think that you and I—”

  “Let’s take it day by day.”

  “I can do that.” Phew! She was off the hook. At times she daydreamed about life as a married and contented Amish woman, but since she had no hard and fast plans, she didn’t want to lead him on. “I’ll always be indebted to you for how good you were to my grandfather.”

  “We were good friends. There was no one like him.”

  “I wish I had gotten to know him better.”

  “I’ll tell you all about him. I’ve got so many stories.”

  Selena smiled. “I’d love to hear every one of them.”

  Chapter 3

  When Ettie and Elsa-May walked into Kelly’s office, he made no mention of Ettie’s walking stick even though he looked straight at it.

  He was a detective—wasn’t he curious at all?

  Ettie thought he knew them well enough that he should’ve inquired about it, if only to be polite. However, observing etiquette wasn’t one of Kelly’s strong points. She sat down on one of the two chairs in front of his desk and then leaned her stick against the wall beside her.

  Once Elsa-May was seated on the other chair, Kelly moved behind his desk and sat with a long, drawn-out sigh. “What can I do for you two today?”

  Were they that intolerable—that hard to put up with? With all the help he’d asked of them over the years and all the assistance they’d given him, he should’ve been more pleased to see them.

  Elsa-May leaned forward and jutted out her bottom jaw, the way she did whenever she was annoyed. “We’ve heard about the scarecrow murders.”

  He picked up a take-out coffee cup, frowning when he saw that it was empty, and tossed it into the wastebasket underneath his desk. Then, he casually nodded, and eyed each sister in turn. “That’s why you’re here?”

  “We thought you would’ve come to us,” Ettie said.

  His bored expression didn’t change when he said, “Maybe I didn’t want to bother you.”

  It was plain to Ettie that he was in one of his moods.

  Elsa-May leaned into the back of her chair. “Aren’t you happy with what we’ve done in the past?”

  “I am. You’ve been extremely helpful. I suppose you might be able to find out a couple of things.”

  Ettie tilted her head as she eyed Kelly carefully. He was pleased to see them; he just didn’t want to admit it. “You knew we’d come to you, didn’t you?”

  Satisfaction showed as a hidden smile hinting around his thin lips. “Truth be told, I was on my way to see you just now when they told me you were at the front desk.” The smile escaped, and he chuckled.

  Elsa-May smirked, and rested her hands in her lap.

  Kelly shifted in his seat. “Thanks. You’ve saved me the drive." Then his face went serious. "These two recent murders follow a pattern of a serial killer from back in the 1970s. The perpetrator was never found.”

  “Or she.”

  Ettie had to stop the giggle trying to escape her lips in reaction to her sister's incongruous comment. She put on her serious face. They were there to discuss murders after all. People had been killed.

  Kelly frowned at Elsa-May and then continued, “Four people were stabbed to death—sliced and diced. Thei
r bodies were left in their houses, and scarecrows positioned in their front yards.”

  “'Four,' or was it five, as we've heard?”

  “Five, that's correct—sorry, I misspoke. That’s where the similarities appear to end. The original victims from the seventies were all stabbed. The two recent ones were shot with a twenty-two caliber gun.” Resting his arms on his desk, he leaned forward. “So. Is the same person responsible, or is it a copycat murderer?”

  Ettie tapped on her chin, wondering if Kelly meant that as a hypothetical question. “Let’s say the killer was twenty back then that would make him …”

  “Around seventy or so?” Elsa-May asked.

  “And if he was older than that back then, he’d be very old by now and not likely capable of doing this.”

  Ettie raised a finger in the air. “But it’s still possible. Especially with the change of murder weapon.”

  Kelly nodded. “We’re no closer. Take a look at this.” He stood and pointed to a map on his wall. “The blue push pins are at the scenes of each of the old murders and the red ones represent the new ones.”

  They were all in the same general vicinity.

  Ettie asked, “What do you want us to find out for you? We’ve heard talk that the two recent victims had left the Amish community.”

  “I’m finding out what they had in common. More importantly, who they had in common.” He sat back down. “You can, if you will, find out what you can about their pasts from when they were in your community.”

  “We can, but only the last victim, Eli, was raised in our community. The first man who was killed wasn’t.”

  “Do what you can. They might’ve had some connection. I know you’ll find out something for me.”

  “Do you have any suspects?” Elsa-May asked.

  “According to the file, it was narrowed down to two suspects, but unfortunately, there were never any arrests and for one reason or another the trail grew cold when the murders ceased.”

  “The suspects were no good, then?”

  “That’s right. I’ve been familiarizing myself with the old murders.” He rubbed his chin. “Neither of the two suspects from back then were Amish but they had close links—friends who were Amish”

  “Why were they suspected at all?” Elsa-May asked.

  “Do you think the killer is Amish or ex-Amish?” Ettie asked, earning a sharp jab from Elsa-May. “Ow! That hurt.” Ettie rubbed her side.

  “He hasn’t answered my question yet. Wait until he answers me, and then you can ask your question.”

  With a slight frown, Kelly continued, “Over the past years, we’ve had two cold case units look at the scarecrow murders and they got nowhere. Apart from that, two profilers came up with basic differences when they profiled the killer.” He waved a hand in the air. “But there’s no need to go into all that.”

  “Who was the detective working on the case back then?”

  “Was it Detective Crowley?” Ettie asked hopefully. They hadn’t seen their detective friend for some time.

  “No. Detective Ogilvy. He had the case.”

  Elsa-May leaned forward. “Where’s he now?”

  “Six feet under, I’m afraid. I’m positive the answer’s in the case file. We've probably already talked to the killer. That’s normally what happens in cold cases. We need fresh sets of eyes on the files. Also, the other thing that happens is people who didn’t talk back then, will talk now for one reason or another.”

  Ettie frowned. If what he said was right, surely all that needed to be done was to go over everything carefully. Perhaps Kelly wasn’t sharing everything with them? She looked at one of the files on his desk trying to see what was written on the front.

  “Are you practicing your x-ray vision, Mrs. Smith?”

  “My what?”

  “You’re looking longingly at my folders.” He moved the files closer. “These are the files on the new murders.” He stood, and lifted up a box from the shelf behind him, and then another one, and placed them on the edge of his desk. “And these two boxes are the old scarecrow murder files. I might step out for a moment and get myself a cup of coffee. Would you ladies like anything?”

  “We’re fine, thank you,” Elsa-May said.

  As soon as he left, Ettie pulled herself to her feet and pounced on one of the boxes, lifting the lid.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Elsa-May hissed.

  “He’s allowing us. Why else would he tell us what’s in here and then walk away to make coffee?”

  Elsa-May’s mouth dropped open while Ettie turned her attention back to the box, flipping through the contents. Ettie then passed half a dozen folders to Elsa-May.

  “I’m not sure about this,” Elsa-May said as she took hold of the paperwork.

  “Just do it, Elsa-May. There’s no time to think, hypothesize, synthesize, and whatever else goes on in that head of yours.”

  “What are we looking for exactly?” Elsa-May flipped through the pages.

  “We need to find the names and addresses of those suspects from the original case. It seems they’re the only leads so far, until they get the forensic results from the new murders. If we talk to the suspects from the last case, we might find out something.”

  “Or get killed. I don’t think he was allowing us to go through these. He’s always telling us to keep out of things and only talk to people in our own community.”

  “Jah, but do we ever listen to him?”

  “Nee.”

  “Kelly said they didn’t do it, but still they might know more than they let on back then. Now that time’s passed, they might open up a bit more. If they were suspected of the crimes, it must’ve been for a reason.”

  “He didn’t say they didn’t do it. He said they weren’t convicted. So why are we talking to them at all? I keep telling you, I want to die of old age not by being killed by a crazed gunman.”

  “Hush, Elsa-May. Stop wasting time and find the names. Anyway these recent killings were shootings.”

  “That’s what I said—crazed gunman, that means he has a gun.”

  “Stop confusing me. The old killings were stabbing and these are shootings. I don’t think we have the same killer. Now be quiet and use your eyes instead of your mouth.”

  While Elsa-May muttered something rude under her breath, Ettie leafed through a couple more pages and then she found the interview transcripts. “Got ‘em.” She borrowed Kelly’s pen and paper to jot down their details.

  “Good. Now we’ll have to put all this away before Kelly gets back.”

  Ettie ripped off the sheet from the notepad, folded it and tucked it into her sleeve.

  When they were seated and looking innocent, Kelly walked back in with another take-out coffee. “Where were we?” he asked.

  Ettie stood. “We were about to go home.”

  “Jah.” Elsa-May stood as well. “We’ll ask around and find out what we can.”

  “Thank you, to both of you.”

  Ettie smiled and took hold of her walking stick, looking back at Kelly to see if he’d mention it. Still nothing. This time, he didn’t even look down at the stick. But he had thanked them, so that was something.

  Together, Ettie and Elsa-May made their way out of the police station.

  Chapter 4

  After they got home and had something to eat, Ettie sat down on the couch and started planning a list of who to question. When a knock sounded on their door, she couldn’t figure out who it could be. “There’s someone at the door.”

  “I'll get it.”

  “That's good because it would take me twice as long with my back the way it is.”

  Elsa-May opened the door and Ettie listened in. It was Gabriel, who’d bought the place next door. He walked further into their house.

  “How are you today, Ettie?”

  “Not so good with this sore back. We've just been to see the detective and—"

  “Does he know who killed John Fuller and Eli Schaeffer?”

&n
bsp; Ettie patted the space next to her on the couch and Gabriel sat down, while Elsa-May sat in her usual chair. Then, Ettie answered him. “He doesn't, but he has a couple of names of people he thinks might’ve done it.”

  “I think what Ettie means is that … she wants to ask ... might we borrow your buggy?”

  Before he could answer, Ettie said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something else too, Gabriel.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Since there’s no room next door for pasture or stables, where do you keep your horse and buggy?”

  “I keep them at the Troyers' place. It’s just a short walk through the back.”

  “Oh, that's a good idea. I haven’t been able to find that out because every time I open my mouth to speak, someone else talks.” She stared at Elsa-May.

  Gabriel smiled. “It's not too convenient. I have to make sure I really want to go out somewhere.” He chuckled. “I’d be happy to drive you somewhere rather than you borrow the buggy. I mean, you may use it if you’d like, but I’m happy to drive you anywhere.”

  Elsa-May smiled. “I meant for you to drive us. Denke.”

  “Where would you like to go?” he asked.

  “Ettie has got the addresses of the suspects and she’d like to drive past their houses.”

  “I've got a better idea. Why not have Selena drive us in her car? It’d be quicker and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

  “All of us?” Ettie asked.

  Elsa-May’s eyebrows rose. “Would she do that?”

  “It would be good to see her again,” Ettie said.

  “Of course she would.” He jumped to his feet. “I'll call her now. When would you like to do this?” He looked directly at Ettie.

  She lifted up her hands. “As soon as it suits Selena.”

  He gave a nod and walked out the door.

  Selena was fixing herself a bagel for lunch when she heard the phone ringing from the barn. At first, she considered just letting it ring, not thinking it was for her. After all, no one knew she was at that number. When it kept going and wouldn’t stop, she hurried out thinking it might be an important call for Gabriel. She made her way through the darkened barn, following the noise. She grabbed the dusty receiver and held it to her ear. “Hello.”