A Simple Wish

by Charlotte Hubbard

  Nora chuckled. “Pour us some coffee from the Thermos, will you? And open the tin of blueberry muffins. It was way too early for breakfast when I got up this morning, and my mind is crying out for caffeine.”

  After he’d prepared their simple refreshments, Drew watched the miles go by and chatted with Nora. It had been a long time since he’d had the occasion to ride with a driver, and he was enjoying the break from upholstering chairs in the shop. He was impressed with the way Nora eased back now and then so they wouldn’t get too close to the green van—although Cornelius’s driver was clipping along about ten miles per hour above the posted speed limit.

  “He must figure he won’t run across any sheriffs or highway patrol cruisers out here in the country,” Drew remarked.

  Nora turned on her blinker, slowing down a bit. “The road they’re turning onto leads to the interstate, so he might have to be more careful about cops as we approach Kansas City,” she said. “Even this early in the morning, we’ll run into rush hour traffic, so you might have to help me keep track of that van.”

  They’d traveled about another half an hour when the green van pulled into a rest area. “Hmm,” Nora put in as she followed it off the road. “I’ll park several spaces away from them, on this other side of the building, and we’ll wait until Cornelius goes inside before I make a dash for the ladies’ room. If he spots me in my Plain dress and kapp, we’re sunk.”

  Drew assessed the placement of shrubs and trees around the rest area’s building. “I sure can’t go into the men’s room, but I see a big evergreen—and if he comes out before you do, I can keep track of him from there.”

  “And there he goes, along with his short, chubby driver,” Nora murmured. “Why would he be taking that suitcase inside with him?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.” Drew released his seat belt. “Leave your van unlocked so I won’t be stuck standing outside it.”

  As Nora hurried up the walkway toward the low building that housed the restrooms, Drew walked quickly to the stand of evergreens behind the picnic area. A few moments later he returned to the car, hoping Nora wouldn’t come out at the same time as Cornelius—or just ahead of him. She was wearing a pink and orange plaid dress that came down to the middle of her calves, with a small round kapp covering her auburn bun, so Cornelius would recognize her in an instant.

  Luckily, Nora ducked back into the van before they saw any sign of him. A few moments later the green van’s driver emerged and lit a cigarette. Other people came and went, and when a fellow in a pinstriped suit came outside, the driver tossed his cigarette to the sidewalk and smashed it under his shoe. The two men were exchanging words while Drew and Nora both stared through the windshield in disbelief.

  “That’s Cornelius in a double-breasted suit and striped necktie,” Nora whispered. “He’s combed his hair back . . . must’ve put his Amish clothes in the suitcase.”

  “And now I really want to know what he’s up to,” Drew put in, shaking his head. “He looks like anything but an Amish clockmaker.”

  When Cornelius stopped on the sidewalk and looked right at them, Drew swallowed hard. “Uh-oh. Do you suppose he recognizes your van—and sees us?”

  Nora was holding her breath, staring at Cornelius with wide eyes. “Oh Lord, I hope not,” she replied in a voice tight with anxiety. “But if he comes over here and asks us what we’re doing, we’ll have to tell him—”

  Cornelius turned his attention to his driver again, and the two men got into the green van. Once they pulled out of their parking slot, Drew could breathe again. “Must’ve been looking at something else,” he murmured. “You know, we could probably find easier ways to delve into Cornelius’s secret than tailing him, if you’d rather not follow—”

  “And miss out on such a mystery?” Nora teased as she started the van. “In for a dime, in for a dollar. We’ve come too far to chicken out now.”

  Drew laughed. After he fastened his seat belt, he reached for the container of muffins. “We’d better fuel up for the rest of our adventure,” he said as he put a muffin on a napkin and laid it on the console for Nora. “Does Luke really approve of you doing this? He sounded okay with it on Sunday, but a lot of husbands would absolutely forbid their wives to chase after a man who’d get nasty if he was caught at something dubious.”

  Nora’s eyebrows rose. “Luke isn’t like a lot of husbands. If he were a more experienced driver, he’d be on this mission himself.”

  “Wow.” Drew wondered if he could ever allow Loretta to engage in such a covert activity—and then he laughed. “I guess it was really never a matter of Luke approving or allowing you to do this. You were going to do it anyway—and Loretta would have the same idea about pursuing somebody’s secret, if it didn’t involve her dat.”

  “When I asked her to run the store today, I gave her no clue about what sort of errand I was on,” Nora said pensively. “I know she and her sister aren’t very close to their dat, but they really won’t want to know if he’s up to something that might involve the church district’s money.”

  “It would be tough to endure their neighbors’ criticism and whatever punishment Bishop Tom would decide upon. Most likely Cornelius would be shunned and removed from his position as deacon.” Drew took a bite of his blueberry muffin, hoping this situation with Loretta’s dat didn’t go that far. “What’s next, after we find out what he’s doing?”

  “We’ll deal with that when the time comes. For all we know, I’ll lose him in this traffic.”

  Drew poured two more cups of coffee and settled back. Soon he was helping Nora keep track of the lane changes and location of the green van while she maneuvered her vehicle in a way he truly admired. After another half hour, he sat up straighter. “They’re getting off on the next ramp,” he said, pointing to the exit sign.

  “Nice of him to use his turn signal,” Nora muttered. “Hang on.”

  She sped up, quickly pulled in front of a car, and then got into the exit lane just as the pavement veered away from the interstate. Nora slowed down, pulling over to the shoulder so they wouldn’t be right behind the green van as it continued down the hill.

  “He’s turning left,” Drew said. Nora was well aware that the green van’s turn signal was blinking this time, but she knew he wanted to do something to aid the chase.

  “Yep, and we will, too, as soon as they’re a short way up the road,” Nora said with a shake of her head. “From what I recall about this area, it’s mostly industrial parks, and even a few warehouses that are built in huge natural caves. I can’t think he’d find too many places that deal with secondhand clocks or parts for them.”

  Drew saw the strange expression on her face as they slowly made their way down the exit ramp and turned. “Have you noticed the billboards for all the casinos along this road?” he asked softly. “I’ve counted at least five—and they’re all listed on the exit sign, too.”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied. “But we won’t believe that assumption until we see it.”

  A few minutes later, after they’d passed three huge casino complexes that included motels and restaurants, the green van turned in at a neon sign that flashed DIAMOND JANE’S in lights that alternated in red, white, and blue. When Nora made the same turn a few moments later, she drove past a couple aisles of parked cars beyond where the green van had gone to remain out of the van driver’s sight.

  The parking lot was packed with vehicles of all descriptions, and Drew could only stare. “You can’t tell me that so many people at all these casinos have nothing else to do but gamble at eight thirty on a Tuesday morning,” he whispered in disbelief. “Doesn’t anybody in this area have a job?”

  “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” she murmured as she slowed the van at the end of the aisle nearest the large casino building. “I’ve always had a funny feeling about Cornelius, but I never in a hundred years would’ve guessed he was a gambler. It’s interesting that he’s chosen the smallest, least flashy casino we’ve seen so far—no motels
near this one.” Nora leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel. “There he goes, right through the main door, with his briefcase.”

  “Do you suppose it’s full of money from the church district’s fund?” Drew swallowed hard, thinking back on all the times Cornelius had gone to the city this summer. “Maybe he’s here to repair this place’s clocks, but I’m not going in there to find out.”

  Nora let out a humorless laugh. “No way! You and I would stick out like aliens from another planet. I’ve seen all I need to—we’re heading home.”

  As Nora turned at the end of the line of cars to head for the parking lot exit, Drew had a sick feeling in his stomach. “How will we ever tell Loretta and her sisters about this? They won’t know what to—”

  “Don’t breathe a word to them, Drew,” Nora put in sadly. “We need to go much higher up the ladder with this information. Bishop Tom’s the one to decide how to handle his district’s affairs, not us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Loretta answered the door on Wednesday morning, she was startled to see Bishop Tom and Preacher Ben on the porch wearing very serious expressions. “Gut morning,” she said as she opened the door. “Is everything all right? Is someone ill and needing our help?”

  Rosalyn came from the kitchen, still holding her dish towel, as the two men stepped inside. “You’re just in time to try some chocolate zucchini muffins,” she said cheerfully. “It’s a new recipe—a different way to use up all the zucchini in the garden. I think they grow several inches each night, and we have so many!”

  Preacher Ben smiled, following Rosalyn to the kitchen. “I can’t tell you how many different ways we’ve eaten zucchini this week, and today Miriam’s grinding some and freezing it in quart bags.”

  “Maybe we’ll have a minute to sample those muffins after we speak with your dat,” Bishop Tom said as he and Ben hung their black straw hats on wall pegs. “Is he down in his shop?”

  “Jah, he’s been working on his clocks since breakfast,” Loretta replied. “Go on downstairs and knock on his shop door.”

  Bishop Tom nodded, his expression a mixture of regret and purpose. “Nazareth has started a rag rug, and I’d like you girls to go help her with it for a while,” he said. “Our business involves a church matter not intended for your ears.”

  Loretta’s stomach tightened as the bishop headed for the basement stairway with Preacher Ben behind him. Not daring to speak while the two men could hear her, she shot a questioning glance at Rosalyn. Rosalyn shrugged, appearing more nervous now that she’d assessed the men’s somber moods—and because they’d been asked to leave.

  The tattoo of their guests’ boots echoed in the stairwell. Loretta listened silently as Preacher Ben and Bishop Tom crossed the large open area of the basement’s concrete floor.

  The footfalls stopped. After a moment, Loretta and Rosalyn heard a loud knock.

  “Cornelius, you’ll need to unlock your door,” Bishop Tom said loudly.

  Loretta’s eyes widened. She was aware that Dat always worked with his shop door closed, but why would he lock it? As young girls, she and Edith and Rosalyn had been instructed not to enter his workroom—not even to clean—unless he gave them permission. The sisters had rarely seen his workshop in the Roseville house, and they’d never set foot in this one.

  “Ah, gut morning, gentlemen!” their father called out. “What brings you here on this fine September day? A problem amongst our members?”

  Once again Loretta and her sister exchanged worried looks. Dat sounded startled—loudly cheerful— as he greeted his visitors, which prompted Loretta to slip out of her shoes and walk quietly across the front room to the grate in the floor that allowed heat to circulate. Rosalyn followed her silently—but the clank from below them signaled that Dat had anticipated their eavesdropping and shut the grate.

  Returning to the kitchen, the sisters stood beside the sink. “What’s going on?” Loretta whispered. “This seems very strange.”

  “I have no idea, but I have a bad feeling about it,” Rosalyn replied softly. “Usually when the church leaders meet, they go to Preacher Ben’s or the bishop’s.”

  Loretta considered this. “Do you suppose they learned we were both working at Nora’s store yesterday, and they’re telling Dat we need to stay home?” She sighed sadly. “I hope that’s not the case. I really like being there.”

  Rosalyn absently took a dish from the drainer and ran her towel over it. “Seems to me that if they didn’t want us working, they would’ve talked to us rather than to Dat.”

  “But Dat’s the one responsible for our behavior—our comings and goings,” Loretta pointed out. “I think they would speak to him about it first and let him break the news to us.”

  “Jah, but when Ben was chatting with me about zucchini, he seemed as pleasant as he always is,” Rosalyn countered. “I didn’t sense any disapproval about what you and I have been doing. It was Dat they were intent on seeing.”

  “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” Loretta put half a dozen muffins on a plate. “We’d better be on our way. We don’t want the bishop to think we’ve been snooping.”

  Rosalyn chuckled as they headed out the front door. “Why, we would never do such a thing!” she teased in a tight voice.

  Loretta smiled, but her sister’s attempt at humor didn’t relieve the tension in her stomach.

  * * *

  Drew was loading a refurbished bedroom set into the big wagon when he caught sight of Bishop Tom and Preacher Ben walking up the lane to the Riehl house. They’d come from the direction of the Hostetler place together, which suggested that they’d been talking before they’d left to visit Cornelius.

  Get over there. Maybe the basement windows are open.

  Drew poked his head through the front door of the shop to holler at Asa, who was sanding a table with a sander that was plugged into a solar panel outlet. “Hey! I’ll be back in a bit!”

  The sander’s whine stopped as Asa turned toward him. “Thought you were delivering that bedroom set to the gal in New Haven,” he teased. “Has something put a burr up your butt? A sudden urge for Loretta to go along, maybe?”

  Drew smiled. He hadn’t told his twin the details of the trip to Kansas City—but he had a feeling that Tom and Ben were about to act upon the information he and Nora had shared with them after they’d returned. “I’m going to the Riehls’, jah, but it’s not what you think. All will be revealed in its own gut time, Asa.”

  Before his brother could quiz him further, Drew stepped outside and paused to contemplate the logistics of his mission.

  As he jogged across the road, he was glad that Will and Luke weren’t working in the nearby fields or in their vineyard. He saw nobody else in the immediate vicinity, either. Bishop Tom and Preacher Ben had just stepped inside with Loretta, and they would eventually go through the kitchen to reach the stairway to the basement. He quickly crossed the front yard to the side of the house where the clock shop was.

  Drew’s heart was pounding more from his covert mission than from his sprint to the Riehl place. When he went around the lilac bush at the corner, he was glad to see that the two basement windows in the foundation were open. Deep down he knew he shouldn’t be listening in, hoping to hear what the two church leaders discussed with Cornelius, but he sat flat against the house anyway.

  You’re doing this for Loretta. If you know how Cornelius responds during this meeting, you’ll be better able to defend her from her dat’s wrath, he reminded himself. He’s going to blame the bishop’s visit on somebody. Better you than his daughters.

  Drew heard boots on the concrete floor inside, crossing the large open area of the basement. When the footsteps stopped, they were directly beneath the open windows he sat between.

  He heard a loud knock. “Cornelius, you’ll need to unlock your door,” Bishop Tom said loudly.

  Drew’s eyebrows shot up. Again he wondered why Cornelius would work behind a closed door—and why would he lock it? On a hot d
ay, an enclosed workshop, even though it had windows, would be unbearably stuffy—and whom did he think was going to barge in on him? Several seconds passed with only the sounds of his breathing and his pulse pounding in his ears.

  “Ah, gut morning, gentlemen! What brings you here on this fine September day?” Cornelius asked a little too loudly and cheerfully. “A problem amongst our members?”

  Drew nearly choked. He reminded himself that it was wrong to want Cornelius to squirm as he answered Bishop Tom’s questions—but if Loretta’s dat was gambling away the district’s money, he should be held responsible. Drew heard a sharp clank, but couldn’t identify the sound.

  “Cornelius, when I agreed to let you put a solar panel on your roof to run your clock repair tools, I did not condone the use of an air conditioner,” Bishop Tom said sternly. “Seems to me that if you left your shop door open and ran the gas ceiling fan that’s in the main room, you’d get adequate ventilation.”

  “Although,” Preacher Ben put in, “if you moved your workbench and clocks out into the main room, along the wall where they’d be out of the way come time for a Sunday service, you’d be even more comfortable while you work.”

  Drew let out the breath he’d been holding. He now understood why Loretta’s dat spent so much time in his workshop. He couldn’t believe Cornelius had the nerve to own an air conditioner—and he wondered why the unit wasn’t visible, positioned in a window. From what little he knew about air conditioners, however, he realized that a window unit wouldn’t work, because the Riehls’ basement windows swung open from the bottom, into window wells.

  “Truth be told,” Bishop Tom continued without letting Cornelius respond, “Ben and I have come to discuss a much more serious matter than your comfort. As you’ll recall, last spring when we saw that you’d placed your workbench in front of the doorway where we keep the church’s vault, we asked you to move it. I’m highly disappointed that you’ve not complied with our wishes.”