I had planned to make a quick stop at home to grab my car keys and drive out to Young’s Flea Market, but my plans had been foiled. Even though the college was within walking distance, I drove so that I could go directly to Young’s after my fitting. I shivered at the thought. What woman wanted to dress up like a chubby snowman? Talk about giving someone body issues. Collette’s special project also worried me.
The college grounds were deserted except for a handful of cars parked outside the gymnasium. A flatbed truck that looked like it had been on the receiving end of a snowplow sat in the parking lot. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen so much white outside of a National Weather Service certified blizzard. Quilt batting and cotton balls bought by the gross created the snow-like base. If it rained, the float would be waterlogged within seconds.
Billy of Uncle Billy’s Budget Autos, an overweight man with bushy red hair, somewhere between the age of thirty and fifty, came around the side of the truck. He lumbered over as I exited my car and called to me as if we were old friends. “Chloe!” In a way, we were. Billy had loaned me a car when my last one was out of commission. It had been a deathtrap on wheels, but he’d meant well. He whistled. “How have you been?”
I smiled. “Okay.”
He ran a hand over his red mustache. “Timothy was in the shop last week to buy a part for his truck. I asked him about you, and he got all red in the face. I had to tease him a little.”
My own face turned warm although I was secretly pleased to hear about Timothy’s reaction.
“Wow, look at your new wheels. A VW Bug. Nice! I had one of the older ones at the shop once. I tricked it out with duct tape strips. Got tons of compliments on that car too. I was bummed when I finally sold it.” He walked around my duct tape-free Bug. “A few pieces of duct tape on the fender would really class it up.” Billy’s love of indestructible gray tape was legendry in the county.
“I think I’ll pass. I prefer a duct tape-free car.”
He shrugged as if it made no difference to him, then shot a thumb at the float. “Get a load of that.”
“Nice. Did you make it?”
“Yep.” He grinned from ear to ear. “The owner of the quilt shop in town almost had a stroke when I put in my batting order. I want it to be the best float of the parade.” He tapped a four-by-four cube of Styrofoam to his right. “I’m working on the igloo right now.”
Oh boy.
The gymnasium doors opened, and Collette stood in the gap. “Miss Humphrey, we need you now.”
I turned to Billy. “Gotta go.”
“Sure thing. See you Friday for the parade.” He picked up an electric saw and started shaping the igloo.
Even on her day off, Collette was dressed to impress. She wore a cashmere sweater and charcoal pleated pants. I, on the other hand, wore jeans and a purple fleece sweatshirt. “I’m sorry I missed the e-mail.”
She brushed her cashmere arm. “I’m not surprised. You didn’t tell the dean yesterday about your adventure at Young’s Flea Market.”
I licked my lips wishing I had thought to put lip balm in my purse that morning. “My adventure?” Of course, I knew what she was talking about, but how much did she know?
“Yes. You found a dead body there. You should really inform the college about these sorts of events.”
“Why?”
Her mouth puckered. “Because the college needs to know whenever an employee may be in the press.”
“You want to use a man’s death as publicity?”
She sniffed. “You make it sound like a bad thing when you put it like that.”
And it’s not a bad thing?
“The college can use stories like this to build up press, especially since there are Amish involved.”
“What do the Amish have to do with it?”
“The dean says you have several Amish friends.”
“Yes,” I said slowly, annoyed she ignored my question.
“Good. We will talk later about my new idea.”
I folded my arms. “What new idea?”
Collette pointed to the gym door. “The costumes are in there. We will talk about the Amish later.”
Why does that sound like a threat?
I stepped inside the gym. Banners from basketball and volleyball titles and championships hung from the rafters. The bleachers were tucked safely into their bearings. If I thought outside was a winter wonderland, I hadn’t seen anything yet. One quarter of the gymnasium floor looked like a cotton field. At this moment, I realized this parade was a big deal for the people of Appleseed Creek—and for the college.
A small Amish woman came up to me. “Are you Chloe?”
I nodded.
“I’m Mary Yoder. Your snowman is over here.”
I turned to see an enormous snowman suit complete with carrot nose, buttons for eyes, and a red bow tie. “Oh, my!” In that thing, I would be larger than Billy.
She smiled shyly. “I made it myself.” She looked from me to the suit and back again. “It’s a little big for you.”
No kidding. The history professor who was supposed to wear it was at least six feet tall. I was five foot four.
She twisted her mouth, and then her face cleared. “I know. I will take off the bottom tier. You will be a two-tier snowman instead of three. Will that work?”
I shrugged. “That’s fine for me.”
She knelt on the floor and took scissors to the lower half of the dress. The snipping and tearing as the scissors moved through the fabric reminded me of what Sadie said about hearing the shears. For the first time, I wondered what type of shears had killed Ezekiel. Knowing that might lead me to the killer. Were they ones of a hairdresser? A tailor? Mary moved to the other side of the dress. Or a seamstress?
“All done,” she said. “You can try it on now.”
I was afraid she would say that.
She helped me climb into the costume. I nearly tipped over. “It fits.” Her voice was muffled.
This is what it must feel like to be inside of a pillow. I started to sweat. At least I wouldn’t be cold on the float. That was for sure.
Mary removed the headpiece. “Was it comfortable?”
I wiped a hand across my damp brow. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I said, “It was soft.”
She gave me a smile and helped me step out of it. “I’m sorry to have rushed you. Collette said that she called you to remind you to come.”
“She did. I missed the e-mail she sent about the fitting.”
“It’s okay. I could be here only a short time. I must go and finish putting the last touches on my sister-in-law’s wedding apron. Also, there is much cooking and baking to be done. She’s to marry tomorrow.”
Yoder was like the name Smith in the Amish world, so I thought nothing of it when she introduced herself as Mary Yoder. However now that she mentioned the wedding, I knew she had to be a relation of Esther Yoder. There couldn’t possibly be another Yoder wedding on Thanksgiving in Appleseed Creek.
“Esther is your sister-in-law?”
Her eyes brightened. “You know her?”
“From the bakery,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to reveal my connection to Becky. Mary may not know of me, but she would certainly know of Becky who Isaac was in love with until she left Amish life.
“Esther has waited for Isaac a long time.” She placed her scissors into her sewing box along with her needles, thread, and seam ripper. “My favorite treat of the day will be the wedding fruit. It’s one of my favorite treats.”
“What’s in it—”
“Chloe, I’m so glad to see you,” Dylan interrupted us. He wore a spandex jumpsuit with enough sequins to cause temporary blindness. A pair of black ice skates, laced together, hung from his shoulder. “I’m an ice skater on the float.
” His cheeks flamed red. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“The snowman wasn’t mine either.” I gave Mary an apologetic smile.
“Oh, you will be on the float too?”
I was beginning to wonder if the history professor really threw his back out or used it as an excuse to get out of this circus.
Dylan smoothed down a sequin on his forearm. “Did you like the flowers?”
“The flowers?”
Mary fell silent as she finished collecting her things. The smile she wore while describing Esther’s wedding was gone. She seemed to grow smaller as she packed her bags.
“The ones I sent to your office yesterday. I’d hope you’d take them as an apology and a peace offering.”
I nearly dropped my snowman head. “The flowers were from you?” Mary took the fuzzy white head from me.
He frowned. “Didn’t you read my note?”
“No. I never got it. The student who delivered the flowers lost it.”
Dylan shook his head. “I wanted to apologize about confusion on Monday. The chief of police was right.”
Confusion? That’s what he’s calling it?
“I shouldn’t have been in your home without letting you know. This is my first rental property, and I’m still learning all of the rules.” His smile fell just short of charming. “I don’t blame you for getting upset.”
“I appreciate that, Dylan.”
“Good. I knew the flowers would work. They always did the trick on my wife.”
“You’re married?” I couldn’t keep the relief out of my voice. If he was married perhaps all of this attention was really about the house, not me.
His face fell. “I’m separated.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know if I felt more disappointed for Dylan or for myself.
He ran his finger along an ice skate’s blade. “I would like to work on the house on Friday. Would that be an okay day for me to come over?”
“What were you planning on doing?”
“I need to finish fixing that window latch for you.”
I shifted from foot to foot. “That’s not necessary. Timothy did it.”
Dylan clenched his jaw and blood rushed to his face. “I don’t want Timothy to work on the house.”
I put my hands on my hips “Why not?”
“Because I can’t afford him.”
“He doesn’t expect to be paid. He did it as a favor to me as his friend.”
He blew out a breath. “This house is an investment for me. I can’t have Timothy mess up things.”
I jumped to Timothy’s defense. “He doesn’t mess up things.” Should Becky and I look for a new place to live?
He shook his head as if I couldn’t possibly understand. “If the window is already fixed, I’d like to inspect the rest of the house, so I can compare it to the original floor plan. I may have a worker or two with me to help. How does one o’clock sound?”
“What about the parade?”
“That’s long after the parade is over.”
What could I say? It was his house, and he was giving me more than twenty-four hours notice. I sighed. “One o’clock is okay.”
He grinned and thanked me before he left the gym. I scanned the room for Mary. I wanted to say goodbye to her and maybe glean more details about Esther’s wedding. No such luck. Mary was gone.
Chapter Nineteen
On the way to Young’s, I called Chief Rose’s cell phone number, the one she’d given me during the summer. The chief answered on the second ring. “Humphrey, what’s going on?”
“Two things.”
“I’m listening.”
“I saw Curt and Brock.”
She was silent.
“Nothing much happened. I bumped into them on the square. They left me when I headed to the police station.”
“I didn’t see you come into the station, and no one told me you were there.”
“I didn’t make it in. I ran into Sadie leaving the department and spoke with her.”
“Uh-huh.” She sighed. “What was the second thing?”
“What kind of shears were used on Ezekiel Young?”
There was a long pause, and I thought she wasn’t going to answer my question. The chief took in a deep breath. “What do you mean exactly?”
“The ones he was stabbed with . . . what are they normally used to cut? Hair? Boxes? Rope? The type of shears wasn’t in the paper.”
“That’s because I wouldn’t let the press know. I have to keep some of the facts hidden.”
“Will you tell me?”
She sighed. “Wool.”
“Wool?”
“Yes. Wool shears used to shear sheep.”
“Oh.” I paused. “I have another question.”
She sighed. “I think you are up to three things now.”
“In the pavilion when I saw Ezekiel, I remember a toolbox on the floor.” I moved the phone to my other ear. “Was there any sign of struggle? Did he fight back?”
The chief waited a few beats before answering. “Not much. We think that the killer snuck up on Ezekiel when he was working. Ezekiel didn’t hear his approach over the sound of the nail gun’s motor. The person stabbed Ezekiel in the back. The person either knew anatomy or got lucky, because the shears got him in the heart.”
I shuddered.
“He didn’t die immediately. It took a couple of minutes. We think as he was struggling, he knocked the box off of the workbench. There wasn’t much blood because his coat absorbed a lot of it. There was a mark on the floor that indicated the killer flipped him over onto his stomach. The county crime lab thinks Ezekiel crumbled to the floor on his left side. While on his side, the killer cut off his beard.” She paused. “Ezekiel may have even been alive while his beard was cut. He was in too much pain to fight back.”
Bile gathered in my throat. “What about fingerprints, shoe prints, anything like that?”
“I can tell you’ve been watching television.” She cleared her throat. “There weren’t any fingerprints other than the workers who would have been in the pavilion. Timothy’s were all over the place.”
“You’re not suggesting he—”
“I’m not. As for shoe prints, the killer was careful. It looks like he used a pine branch to wipe his prints in the sawdust as he left. We found one outside the pavilion covered in sawdust. Before you ask, there were no fingerprints on the branch.” A tapping sound, like the chief’s pencil against her desk, resounded through the phone. “My turn for questions. Why are you so interested?”
“I think Timothy and I can help you find out who did this.”
She sighed again. “I won’t bother to tell you to stop, but if you find out anything I might think is important, you tell me.”
“Deal.” I ended the call and turned into Young’s massive parking lot. The restaurant part of the lot was filled with cars and buses as usual, and the hitching post had more horses and buggies than it normally did. The Buckeye Country Tour bus was one of the buses waiting at the back of the lot. I planned to avoid the lady with the cane.
I stepped inside the building. The pie and gift shops buzzed with happy activity as visitors made their selections. There was no indication of the tragedy that happened in the pavilion two days ago. Typically, Ellie stood at the hostess stand seating guests or telling the young Amish girls who worked for her how to do it properly. Instead Aaron Sutter, Timothy’s best friend, was at the hostess station. From his wheelchair, he collected names from guests yet to be seated and handed menus to an Amish girl to lead the parties to their tables.
He shot me a grin, and his coal black hair fell over mischievous hazel eyes.
My shin ached when I saw his next customer—the lady with the cane.
“How lon
g is the wait?” she croaked.
“Only twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes? I can’t wait that long. I’m hypoglycemic and need to eat now.”
Aaron frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, but the wait is twenty minutes. We have lots of treats in the pie shop you can purchase if you are hungry now.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re trying to get me to spend more money.”
“No ma’am.” The corners of Aaron’s mouth twitched as he held back a chuckle.
“Do you want me to spoil my dinner?”
“Absolutely not. Young’s has the best food in the county. I want you to enjoy it.”
The lady with the cane cocked her head as if surprised by his friendly response. I suspect his was much different than the typical reaction to her disagreeable temperament. Finally, she hobbled in the direction of the pie shop.
There were no more customers waiting to give Aaron their names, so I walked up to his chair.
“One for lunch?” Aaron asked with a small smile.
“I’m afraid not, but it smells great. I’m looking for Ellie. Do you know where I can find her?”
“She’s at home today because . . . well . . . you know why.”
I nodded. “Are you working here now?”
He shook his head. “I’m helping out while the Young family makes arrangements. The bishop asked for volunteers, so here I am.”
“That was nice of you.”
Becky walked by with a tray holding at least a dozen huge glasses of pop and water. It was a wonder she didn’t drop the tray on the floor. I know I would have. Aaron turned his head and blushed when he saw Becky. I suspected that Becky working in the restaurant was the deciding factor for Aaron to help out at Young’s.
I stopped short of snapping my fingers to regain his attention. “Where’s Uri?”
“The whole Young family is in Ellie’s house, behind the pavilions, preparing for Ezekiel’s funeral.”
“When will the funeral be?”
“Typically, it would be tomorrow since that’s three days after Ezekiel’s death, but the police haven’t released his body yet, so I don’t know.”
Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3 Page 40