When I lived with them, the Greens knew I wasn’t fully awake until ten a.m. or after an extra strength dose of coffee. I smiled while listening to the phone ring, waiting for Tee to pick up. Christmas morning was the worst. The Greens unwrapped gifts at four a.m. Since Tee would be in Italy for Christmas, I wondered what I would do this year. I’m sure the Greens would be happy to have me. I hadn’t been back to Cleveland since I moved to Appleseed Creek, but a larger part of me wanted to spend the holiday with Timothy.
“Wow, what time is it there?” Tanisha asked, fully awake.
“Midnight.”
“What are you still doing up?”
“Remember those two guys I told you about? Curt and Brock?”
“Yeah. I thought they were in jail.”
“Not any more.” I told her about my day.
“Chloe, I can’t even believe this. How’s it possible you’re having a more adventurous life in Amish Country than I am in Italy?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t move here looking for adventure. Have you heard anything more from Cole?”
Her sigh was so exaggerated it sounded like a wind tunnel in my ear. “I sent him an e-mail and told him about the ring.”
“How’d that go over?”
“About as well as you’d expect.” She groaned. “I don’t want to talk about Cole anymore. How’s Timothy?”
“Well . . .” I told her about the kiss. Good thing the room was dark. Not that she’d be able to see my red cheeks or the stupid smile on my face.
She squealed. “What?”
“Sheesh, keep it down. You’re going to wake up your roommates.”
“They won’t care. I’ve told them all about you and Buggy Boy, and they are in love. I can’t wait to tell them the latest installment.”
I rolled my eyes and said good-night.
The next morning, Chief Rose showed up at nine o’clock on the dot. She rubbed her hands together. Her peridot eyes, outlined in forest green, which made them appear even more catlike than usual, sparkled. “Let’s get to work.”
In my opinion, the chief was far too excited about the wire I had to wear.
She eyed the sheets and blankets folded in the corner of the sofa.
“Timothy spent the night,” I said.
The chief removed her stocking cap. Her brown curls flew in all directions. “Ah.”
Timothy’s jaw twitched. “I slept on the couch.”
“Relax, Troyer. I wasn’t thinking anything tawdry.” She patted the black case, roughly the size of a toaster. “I brought everything with me.” She set the case on the coffee table and opened it up. It contained a tiny microphone and a receiver, not much different than the wireless lapel mics we used at the college.
She held up the microphone. “I’m going to have to tape this to your breastbone to conceal it. Lift your sweater up.”
Timothy’s cheeks reddened. He turned his back, and she affixed the tiny microphone just below my clavicle with cloth tape. “There.” She clicked on the receiver and a screeching sound broke the silence of the room. Gigabyte jumped three feet in the air before streaking out of the room.
Timothy held his hand over his ears. “Turn it off.”
The chief moved the switch to the off position.
“Let me give it a try,” I said.
She stepped back and cocked her head. “You think you can make it work?” she asked, her tone dubious.
“I do this kind of stuff for a living, remember?”
“Fine. Knock yourself out.” She gave me some room.
I made some adjustments to the frequency and volume. “That should do it.” I turned the mic back on. Nothing.
“It’s not doing anything,” Timothy said.
“That’s a good thing,” I said. “I’ll go upstairs and see if you two can hear me.”
In my room, I whispered, “Testing. One. Two. Three.”
“We can hear you!” the chief called up the stairs.
When I got back downstairs, the chief’s eyes glowed. “We’re good to go. I’ll have my officers stationed near the front and the back of the store in case the girls make a run for it.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Do you really think that will happen?”
“No, but it’s good practice for the team. They’re getting lazy. We don’t see much action.” She zipped the case closed and looked me in the eyes. “At least we didn’t until you moved here, Humphrey.”
Somehow, that didn’t bring me comfort.
Slipping the strap over her arm, she said, “You know what to do. Timothy and I will be in earshot.”
I nodded.
“You have nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid.” I wasn’t. Maybe I was a little afraid I wouldn’t be able to get the confession, but that was it.
Becky laced up her boots to bicycle to work. “I wish I could go too.”
The chief shook her head. “It’s for the best. Can’t have too many cooks in the kitchen, you know.”
“Shouldn’t you have a code word if something goes wrong?” Becky asked. “That’s what they always do on TV.”
Chief Rose dug one hand into her hip. “How much television do you actually watch?”
I could answer that. “A lot.”
Chapter Forty-Six
The apple-shaped bell over the glass door of The Apple Core rang. I wasn’t afraid. Leah and her friends may have been able to jump Sadie when she was caught off guard, but I knew what they were capable of. What bothered me was the why. I believed Curt’s story about what he saw, but why would the girls do that to Sadie, and presumably to themselves too?
Did they do it out of spite, like some Amish version of a high school clique? Apparently, American high school wasn’t as far from the Amish as I’d thought.
“May I help you?” Leah asked from her post behind the counter. Her face fell. “It’s you.”
“Good morning, Leah. I was wondering if I could talk to you and Abby and Debbie. They’re here, aren’t they?” I removed my coat and hung it over my arm. I was afraid that the wool would muffle the microphone too much. “It’s about the haircutting. There’s been a development in the case you should know about.”
She paled. “Debbie and Abby are in the back putting up the rest of the holiday stock.”
Debbie appeared from around a display shelf. “Leah . . .” she paused. “Oh, I didn’t hear the bell.”
“Can you go get Abby?” Leah’s voice was tight. “She has something to tell us about the haircutting.”
Debbie swallowed and disappeared behind the display. She and Abby, her face pale, reappeared a minute later. “What are you doing here?” Abby asked.
“I need to talk to all three of you.”
Leah folded her arms on the counter. “What about?”
“Don’t you find it odd that of the four girls whose hair was cut, only Sadie is missing from this tight little circle?”
Debbie walked behind the counter and stood next to Leah. “So? What about Grandfather Zook?”
I wondered how far to take this. Chief Rose should have given me confession extracting tips before I talked to the girls. I squared my shoulders, keeping my eyes on Abby. “I don’t think Grandfather Zook or the death of Abby’s uncle is related to what happened to you.”
Abby concentrated on the tops of her black sneakers.
Debbie nudged Leah, their ringleader since the very beginning, in my estimation.
“Just because you think something doesn’t make it true,” Leah said.
“A man didn’t cut your hair, did he Abby?” I said. “It was a girl your own age. Wasn’t it.”
Debbie’s mouth fell open. “Abby, what did you tell her?”
Abby shook her head. “N-n
othing.”
I continued. “Abby and I had a nice talk yesterday.”
Leah glared at the pale girl. “What?”
Abby’s head snapped up. “She’s telling a falsehood.”
I cocked my head. “Did you or did you not ask me to meet you at Appleseed Pond yesterday to talk about the haircutting?”
Perspiration gathered above Abby’s brow. “Ye-yes.”
Debbie cried out. “You told her!”
“Debbie, be quiet,” Leah barked.
“N-no,” Abby stuttered. “I didn’t tell her. I didn’t.”
“But you wanted to,” I said.
Abby gave the faintest of nods. A tear slid down her cheek. “I can’t keep this awful secret anymore.”
Leah ran around the counter and pinched her friend’s arm. “Don’t say a word.”
Tears fell from Abby’s eyes. “I have to. I have to. It’s different for you and Debbie. My uncle is dead.”
Debbie’s hands were flat on the counter. “We had nothing to do with that.”
“I know.” Abby pulled her arm from Leah’s grasp. She looked at me. “We did it,” Abby whispered.
“What?” I stepped closer to her, wanting the microphone to pick up her words.
“We cut our own hair . . . and Sadie’s.”
Leah stepped away from her friend, her expression twisted, as if she didn’t even know the person in front of her.
“Why?” I asked.
Debbie’s face crumpled. “The bishop. He’s ruined everything in the district. We had to show him that he wasn’t in control. The haircutting embarrassed him.”
Through gritted teeth, Leah said, “Stop talking.”
Debbie’s eyes filled with tears. “I cannot, Leah. I can’t keep this secret anymore either. We did this to embarrass the bishop, but we are hurting each other more.” Gruffly, she wiped a tear from her cheek with her hand, her gaze steady on me “You don’t know what it’s been like. The bishop and the deacon have been horrible. A half a step out of place and they punish you. Look at the Troyer family you love so much.”
“Is Sadie involved? Is she part of your little group?” I asked.
“No.” Abby held herself around the waist. “We were afraid the deacon or police would realize we cut our own hair because we were close friends, so we decided to cut the hair of someone we weren’t friendly with.”
I nodded. “The extra bonus was that she’s the bishop’s daughter.”
Debbie hung her head in shame. “Yes.”
“And Grandfather Zook? What about his beard?”
“We didn’t do that,” Abby spoke up. “We would never hurt an elderly man like that.”
“You wouldn’t hurt an old man, but what about Ezekiel Young. Did you kill him?”
Abby gasped, then covered her mouth and ran from the room. After a moment, we could hear the faint sound of retching from the back of the store.
Leah leveled her glare at me. “No. That is enough.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I know you didn’t kill Abby’s uncle—the coroner already proved that. But someone has used your haircutting prank to his advantage and committed murder. A copycat crime.”
Debbie removed a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed the corners of eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means someone saw what you girls were doing and copied it to cover up his crimes.”
Debbie gasped. “Are you saying it’s our fault Ezekiel was killed?”
I almost said yes, but that answer wasn’t completely true. It was only part of the issue. The girls only gave the killer the idea of how to cover up the crime—the plan to murder must have already been in place.
“Do you realize that a killer used your antics to his advantage? And he may get away with murder because the police have wasted so much of their time looking for whoever cut your hair.”
Debbie began to cry in earnest, but Leah’s jaw was set.
The bell at the front of the store rang, and Chief Rose and her two officers entered. Leah’s eyes cut over to me. Before that day, I wouldn’t believe a young Amish girl could carry so much hate in her eyes. Leah whispered something to Debbie in Pennsylvania Dutch.
The chief smiled. “Don’t talk? That’s probably the best advice you could give her.”
Leah’s eyes grew wide.
“What? You’re surprised I know your language? I couldn’t manage in this town without it.” Chief Rose turned to me. “Where’s the third one?”
More retching sounds came from the back of the shop. I pointed a thumb in that direction. “In the back.”
Chief Rose nodded to one of her officers. “Make sure she’s finished with her tummy issues before you put her in the cruiser. I’m not in the mood to clean the upholstery.” She handed Leah a piece of paper. “Here’s a warrant, by the way. I imagine we will find a pair of sheep shears somewhere in this building.”
Leah clenched her jaw so tightly I was surprised we couldn’t hear the grinding of her teeth.
I stepped away as the chief read Leah and Debbie their rights and handcuffed them. Instead of feeling relieved that this ordeal was over, sadness washed through me. I slipped out of the shop.
Timothy stood outside, watching through the window. “You did a good job,” he said.
I frowned. “It doesn’t feel that way. I feel dirty and sneaky. I don’t like it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You helped the police. Now maybe the district can heal.”
“To a point.” I pulled my cotton gloves out of my pocket and slipped them on. “The person who killed Ezekiel Young is still out there.”
He nodded.
“How do you think the bishop and deacon will react when they learn about the girls?”
“I don’t know. My fear is they will come down harder on everyone else. I know that’s what Deacon Sutter would want to do.”
I nodded and then a thought hit me.
“What is it?”
“Miller’s at work. Leah’s his cousin.”
“Oh.”
“What am I going to tell him about all this?”
“The truth.”
I bit my lip. I suspected the truth about his cousin was the last thing the programmer wanted to hear.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Even though Chief Rose had spoken to Dean Klink and gotten me a full day off of work, I headed to the office that afternoon. I couldn’t stay in my big rented house all by myself and stare at that pencil-drawn X on my living room wall. Becky was at Young’s all day, and then would head to the elementary school after work to help the teacher prepare for Tuesday afternoon’s art class. Timothy had gone to Young’s too, to work on the pavilion. Life went on despite the arrest of the three Amish girls.
Chief Rose called to tell me that she had already heard from CNN. The haircutting story received national attention as the newswire picked it up. The Amish way, foreign to the rest of the country, made today’s arrests sensational news. The police chief warned me not to talk to the press, and that was fine with me.
On campus, I stepped into the office, and found Clark at the conference table editing video of the college’s fall play on his laptop. “Hey boss, Klink told us that you weren’t coming in today. He said you dove into a frozen pond and saved a drowning child.”
I rolled my eyes. It came as no surprise that the dean’s version of the story was more sensational than the truth. I feared what he would make of the three Amish girls. “That’s not quite what happened.”
“You didn’t save someone?”
“I did, I guess, but it wasn’t a child. And I didn’t dive into a freezing pond.” I told him a shortened version of the story.
“Wow. I’m impressed, but the diving in the pond would
have really kicked the story up a notch.”
“I’m sure it would. Where’s Miller?”
“He left about an hour ago. He got a phone call about some type of family emergency.”
I winced. I knew the nature of that emergency. “Did he say anything about it?”
“Nah. You know Miller. You have to use a crowbar to get anything out of him.”
The door to the computer services office opened, and Dean Klink entered with Collette Williams close at his heels.
“Chloe!” Dean Klink grinned from ear to ear. “I saw your car in the parking lot and called Collette right away.”
Clark hid a smirk behind his laptop screen.
“We need to jump on the good press you’ve created for the college.” Collette smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her sleeve.
“Good press?”
“Of course, by pulling that drowning Amish girl from the water, you’ve gotten media attention. This could get national media attention. I only need to confirm a few facts before I blast the press release to all the outlets.”
I held up my hand. “Wait, wait, wait. I didn’t pull an Amish girl from the water.”
Collette’s head jerked back. She turned to the dean. “Dean Klink, you said . . .”
The dean licked his lip. “Chloe can tell us what really happened.” To Collette, he said, “There still could be a story there.”
The dean and the publicist sat at the conference table. Clark didn’t move. No chance he was going to miss this show. I didn’t see a way out of it either. I sat and told them about yesterday’s event at Appleseed Pond. Carefully, I left Abby out of the story. I shivered to think what Collette would do when she learned about my involvement with the Amish haircutting.
Dean Klink smacked his hand on the conference table. “That’s still a great story. Excellent stuff. Poetic even.”
Collette’s face was pinched. “I’m disappointed no Amish were involved. Chloe, the Amish angle is something I planned to talk to you about.”
My brow shot up. The Amish angle?
Collette scribbled on a small leather-bound notebook. “The Amish are such a curiosity in the news and media right now that I believe the college should take more advantage of our proximity to them. We should advertise our ties and closeness to the Amish culture. It may attract students.”
Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3 Page 54