Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3

Home > Mystery > Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3 > Page 65
Appleseed Creek Trilogy, Books 1-3 Page 65

by Amanda Flower


  The sight sobered me up like nothing else could.

  Chapter Eleven

  After the pageant ended, the teachers laid out cookies and punch for the children and coffee for the parents. Thomas popped up at my side still in his shepherd’s outfit. “How did I do, Chloe?”

  I kept a straight face. “You were memorable.”

  He nodded, his lower lip protruding. “Too bad about the sheep. I’m glad that Timothy was able to catch the third one. I would have felt bad if I lost one of the bishop’s sheep.”

  “It was a good thing,” I agreed.

  He ran away to talk with one of the wise men. It was nice to know that shepherds and wise men got along.

  The line for punch and cookies snaked around the room, and I could feel the curious stares of the Amish coming from it. During the program, their focus had been on the children. Now that the program was over, their curious looks focused on me. I stepped out of the schoolhouse into the snow.

  Ruth disappeared around the corner of the outhouse. In the Appleseed Creek district the Amish had indoor plumbing, but apparently that nod to technology didn’t extend to the schoolhouse.

  Thinking she might be upset or embarrassed by her brother’s antics, I followed her. The snow muffled my footsteps. As I got closer, I heard Ruth speaking to someone in her native language. I hesitated. The last thing I wanted to do was make Ruth more upset by making her think I was spying on her.

  She turned and waved toward me. This was a first. Ruth never asked me to come and talk to her. Of the Troyers, she was the least comfortable with me being involved with the family. If she had her way, I think she would happily see me return to Cleveland.

  I stepped around the side of the outhouse “Ruth, is everything okay?” I pulled up short. I had expected her to be talking to a classmate, and she was. I had not expected for that classmate to be Anna Lambright.

  Anna was pretty. Not quite as beautiful as Katie had been, but it was clear within the next couple of years that she would be. She had sandy-blonde hair, almost the color of caramel, and wide-set brown eyes that made her look even more innocent than the typical Amish girl. Tears ran from those eyes.

  “Anna, are you all right?” I asked.

  Tears fell faster, and I mentally kicked myself for the stupid question. Of course she wasn’t all right.

  She licked her chapped lips. “I need your help.”

  “Mine?”

  She nodded. “Ruth said that you can find the man who hurt my sister.”

  My mouth fell open. “I . . . I . . .” I couldn’t find the words to say.

  Ruth tucked her arms under her cloak. “You solved those two other murders.”

  “Well . . .” Again, the words wouldn’t come, because she was right. Did I tell her that Chief Rose basically gave me the same assignment? I thought not. Most Amish had distrust for the English police.

  “You found out what happed to the bishop and Ezekiel Young,” Ruth pressed.

  I shifted. “Maybe I can help.” The chief had just told Timothy and me today that Katie’s death was a homicide. “How do you know she was murdered?”

  Anna shivered. “The lady police officer came back to the farm today. I heard her tell Daed. He was so angry that I thought he was going to throw her off the farm.”

  “Why? It’s not Chief Rose’s fault about what happened to Katie.”

  She lowered her gaze. “Daed knows that, but that’s my father. He’s angry.” Her voice sounded monotone.

  The memory of Chief Rose describing how Katie’s finger had likely been broken came to mind. How did I ask Anna about that and not lose her trust? I exhaled slowly. “I will try to help. When was the last time you saw your sister?”

  Anna looked away, her expression closed.

  “Anna, if you want me to help you, I need to know this.”

  She twisted the end of her cape, her eyes staring off into the distance. “Saturday morning.”

  I tilted my head. “Timothy and I didn’t find her until Monday morning. Was she missing for two days?”

  “Nee. At least I didn’t think she was missing like she was in trouble.”

  “What kind of missing could she be?”

  “I thought she’d run off. That’s what Daed said happened.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I thought that she ran off and left me. I was so angry at her that I decided I would never forgive her for leaving me there, and now, she’s dead.” She ran her hands up and down her arms. “I was hating her and she was already dead.”

  Ruth wrapped her thin arms around her friend, and together the girls cried. The pair reminded me so much of Tanisha and me after my mother’s death that it took my breath away.

  I let the pair comfort each other for a few minutes before moving on to my next question.

  “Did Katie want to leave the church?” I asked. “Did she ever mention it?

  She pulled away from Ruth, sniffing and gnawing on her lip. “Maybe. She talked about what it must be like to be Englisch and what it would be like if she could live without rules. I never thought she was serious. We’ve all said that before.” She looked to Ruth for confirmation.

  Ruth nodded and took her hand.

  “But she knew Daed would never forgive her if she left the church, whether she was baptized or not. The bishop said that it was all right for the Troyers to see Becky and Timothy even though they left the Amish way, but my father said many times that he would never allow that. He thought Simon Troyer was weak and that his weakness led his children to leave the way.”

  Ruth stiffened.

  “Can you tell me who Katie spent the most time with?”

  Her forehead wrinkled as if she hadn’t expected that question. “My sister was popular with the young men in the district.” She swallowed a sob. “Because she was so pretty. I think that made lots of the girls in the district jealous. She didn’t have any girlfriends. Other than family, she spent the most time with Nathan Garner. They were courting.”

  Garner? That name sounded familiar.

  “His family owns a large Amish furniture warehouse between here and Fredericktown. Lots of Englischers shop there. Some Amish too.”

  That was it—the furniture store that Grandfather sold his small wooden kitchen accessories to. I pressed on. “Did she spend time with anyone else?”

  “There were other young Amish men too. I told you that they all wanted to court my sister.”

  “But she only had eyes for Nathan?”

  She gnawed on her lip. “Just lately. Until a few months ago, Caleb King was courting her.”

  “Caleb is here,” Ruth said. “I saw him earlier. Two of his younger brothers were in the Christmas pageant.”

  “I’d like to talk to him,” I said.

  Ruth’s mouth fell open. “You can’t talk to him here. Someone will see you.”

  Anna blinked her brown doe eyes at me. “You don’t want to talk to Caleb. He will get angry. He is much like my father in that way.”

  “He will be mad over a few questions?”

  “Katie said he was angry over everything. That’s why she asked him to stop courting her. Nathan was better. He was kind to her.”

  Again the broken finger came to mind. “Did he hurt her?”

  Anna frowned. “She never said so. She only said he was angry one time to me, and that was right before they stopped courting.”

  “When was this?” If I had an approximate time, maybe the coroner could estimate when her finger was broken and if the two were related.

  “Summertime. Close to the same time she started working at the warehouse Nathan’s family owns.”

  My body tensed. “What did she do there?”

  “I don’t know exactly, something in the office.” She twisted the end of her cloak with her hands. “My sister was so smart. She should have been a teacher
and maybe this would have never happened.”

  I peeked around the corner and the schoolhouse was emptying out.

  “I need to go home before my daed knows that I’m gone,” Anna said. “He was out checking the ponies in the far pasture, and he should be home by now.” She reached for my hand. “Chloe, my sister didn’t deserve this.” With tears in her eyes, she added. “I didn’t deserve this. Please help.”

  I squeezed her hand. Even through my glove, her fingers felt cold. It was like holding a Popsicle. “I’ll try.”

  She nodded, adjusted her bonnet, and gave Ruth a crushing hug, whispering something to her in their language. Then she ran in the opposite direction of the schoolhouse.

  Ruth drew in a shaky breath.

  “What did she say to you?” I asked.

  Her voice was barely above a whisper, and I had to lean in to hear her. “She can’t be my friend anymore. Her father won’t allow it.”

  Katie’s father rose higher up on my suspect list, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go back.”

  She nodded.

  I spied Timothy by the door leading into the schoolhouse, scanning the yard. I knew he was searching for me. Of all the attendees, I was the easiest to identify in my purple coat and black wool trousers. A navy blue ski hat covered my bright red hair.

  Timothy’s blue eyes lit up when they met mine, and something inside my chest fluttered.

  Ruth yanked on my arm. “Chloe, Caleb King is by the swing set.”

  I turned in that direction and saw two Amish boys in their late teens or early twenties laughing and jabbing at each other.

  Timothy followed my line of sight and frowned. He gave the slightest head shake. No.

  I pretended I didn’t see him and started in that direction. Ruth didn’t follow me.

  The boys’ laughter was low as they spoke to each other in a mixture of Pennsylvania Dutch and English.

  “Caleb?” I asked.

  Both boys examined me.

  “Ya?” the taller of the two said. His sharp cheekbones were a stark contrast to his friend’s round face.

  “We met at the Troyers’ farm. I’m Chloe.”

  “Ya. Everyone in the district knows who you are. You made Timothy Troyer turn Englisch.”

  Timothy left the Amish long before I ever showed up in Appleseed Creek, but I didn’t bother to correct him.

  Caleb’s friend laughed.

  “I’d like to talk to you about Katie Lambright.” The sentence popped out of my mouth before I could think of a better opening. If it hadn’t been for Katie’s death, I would have had no reason to speak to the Amish man.

  Caleb paled. “What do you know about Katie?”

  My eyes slid to the friend again. “Can we talk alone about this?”

  His friend opened his mouth, but Caleb cut him off in their language. After a minute of arguing, the friend sauntered away.

  Caleb scowled at me.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry about Katie.”

  He folded his arms. “It is a shame to lose anyone from the church, but I don’t know why you think Katie was of a special interest to me.”

  “You courted her for a long time.”

  Caleb cracked his knuckles. “Who told you this? Timothy Troyer? What would he know? He left the district when I was still a child in the Christmas program.”

  I took a small step backward. “I didn’t hear it from Timothy.”

  “It is no matter.”

  “Why did you stop courting Katie?”

  “Unless you have something important to say to me, I have nothing to say to you.” He started to move away.

  “What about Nathan Garner? Should I speak to him about Katie? Isn’t he a friend of yours?” I asked my questions quickly. Even though my voice was low, I became aware of the adults exiting the schoolhouse watching us. I should have heeded Timothy’s headshake. The schoolyard was not the right place to question Caleb.

  Caleb froze in place and spun on his heels to face me. A black cloud passed over his face. “Nathan Garner is not my friend.”

  “Because of Katie?”

  He clenched and unclenched his gloved hand, glaring at me. Then he turned and stalked away, uttering in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  “Chloe Humphrey, you are one gutsy woman,” Timothy said from behind me. “What were you doing talking to Caleb King like that? He’s three times your size.”

  I gave him a wry smile. “So you think this wasn’t the best time?”

  He buttoned the top button on his coat. “No, it wasn’t. What did he tell you?”

  I told him, then I conveyed my conversation with Anna and Ruth behind the outhouse.

  From across the schoolyard, Deacon Sutter glared at us.

  Timothy shook his head. “Well, I watched the two of you the whole time to make sure he didn’t try anything.”

  “What would he try?”

  Timothy pursed his lips. “Who knows? He’s unpredictable. You on the other hand are brave to march right up to him like that.”

  “Me? Brave?” I never thought of myself that way. My best friend Tanisha had always been the brave one. She was the one living halfway across the world in a foreign country. I was barely three hours from the town I’d lived in my entire life.

  “I can tell you don’t believe me.”

  “I don’t.”

  He squeezed my hand. “And that just makes the quality even more attractive.”

  Chapter Twelve

  All the lights were on in the simple, white-steepled church in the middle of Appleseed Creek. The lamppost in the yard wore a Christmas evergreen spray and a big red bow. The front doors, which led from the greeting hall into the sanctuary, had green wreaths with matching bows.

  The Mennonite congregation of Appleseed Creek was not conservative. The women wore everything to services, from long, almost Amish-looking skirts to jeans. Becky and Timothy were members of the choir, but there was also a praise band with an electric bass player. What had Timothy and Becky thought the first time they stepped into this church? Although the service wasn’t much different from those I once attended with the Green family in Shaker Heights, they must be a world apart from the all-German services Becky and Timothy grew up with in which men and women sat on different sides of the living room of an Amish family’s home.

  The organ music began, and the choir marched down the center aisle singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” As Timothy walked by in his royal blue choir robe, he winked at me. The shimmery fabric was a far cry from the plain style he’d worn most of his life. Becky looked angelic. If she sprouted wings and started strumming a harp, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. If Aaron had been there, he would have fainted dead away. As a baptized Amish man, Aaron spent Christmas Eve with his family within the Amish district.

  The choir members took their places in the loft, and the pastor began his greeting. My pew was half full. At the far end was a young family with a baby gumming a teething ring. Between the family and me sat a middle-aged couple, the woman wearing a long skirt and her hair pulled back into a bun, much like the Amish.

  Someone stopped at my pew. “Is this seat taken?”

  The voice sent a chill down my body. I couldn’t look at him. “No.”

  Curt slipped into the pew and stood next to me. “I’m glad, because I was hoping that we could sit together, Red.”

  Reflexively, I slid over in the pew and knocked into the heavyset woman on my other side. She shot me a dirty look. So much for the Christmas spirit.

  Becky watched from the choir, her mouth dropping open.

  Timothy’s eyes bored into me and looked ready to lunge off the stage.

  I bit my lip. Should I move? Should I stay?

  The pastor finished making announcements, and the first hymn began. The congregati
on rose as one. Curt, not knowing the cue, jumped up at the last minute. I opened my hymnal to the correct page and handed it to Curt. He held it in his hands as if it had teeth and might snap closed like an alligator’s jaw.

  I pulled a second hymnal from the back of the pew and found my page as the organist began the first notes of “Angels We Have Heard on High.”

  The woman next to me belted out the carol as if she was performing in center stage at Severance Hall. I used her volume to my advantage and slid a glance at Curt. “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

  The corner of his mouth curved up. “What, Red? You don’t think I am worthy enough for your religion?”

  Heat rushed to my face, and I turned my eyes down to the music in my hands. Mercifully, the song finally ended and the congregation sat.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat through the Scripture reading and congregational prayer. Curt stared straight ahead, never once glancing in my direction. Was he paying attention? Was he interested in what he heard? The organ started up again for yet another carol, “O Come, All Ye Faithful.”

  Curt popped up to standing, but this was the hymn in which the congregation was asked to remain seated. People in other pews stared at Curt. His forehead bunched and his face turned red. In the many times Curt and I had come face-to-face, I’d seen almost every emotion cross his face, but I had never seen him self-conscious. He didn’t sit down. His knees locked into place.

  I stood and handed him the hymnal, and he gave me the first real smile I’d ever seen from him. It wasn’t a smirk or a leer, but a tiny and genuine grin. By the second verse the entire congregation was standing, even the irritated woman next to me.

  The song ended, and Curt sank into his seat.

  My gaze shifted toward the front where Hannah Hilty wrinkled her nose as she examined my companion and me. She tossed her head and her silky brown hair hit the woman behind her in the mouth.

  I bowed my head to cover laughter bubbling up from within me. Who knew that I would spend my first Christmas Eve in Appleseed Creek with two of the people in the world who disliked me so much? All I needed was my evil stepmother to finish off the glaring trifecta.

 

‹ Prev