Grandfather Zook parked Sparky next to Timothy’s truck. Timothy tethered the horse to a tree and rubbed the white star in the middle of his forehead. Thomas leaped out of the buggy wearing a striped nightshirt and a cloth over his clothing and a band on his head. The seven-year-old spun in place, so that we could appreciate the full effect of his outfit.
The rest of the family piled out of the buggy. Ruth was the last to slip out, and from the scowl on her face it was clear she didn’t want to be there.
Thomas kept spinning and almost toppled over. His father caught him and reprimanded him in Pennsylvania Dutch.
Mrs. Troyer shook her head. “He insisted on wearing his shepherd’s outfit all day long.”
He lifted his chin. “I’m playing a shepherd in the Christmas pageant. I have a line too,” he said proudly.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Do you hear the angels singing?” he recited just below a shout.
Ruth winced.
Naomi giggled and clutched her faceless doll by the leg.
I squeezed her hand. “It won’t be long before you are in the Christmas show too. Maybe next year?”
She grinned and nodded.
“Maybe you will be a sheep to Thomas’s shepherd.”
Thomas shook his head. “A person can’t be a sheep. We have real sheep for our play.”
As if on cue, Bishop Hooley and his eldest daughter, Sadie, who was Becky’s age, walked around the corner of the farthest outbuilding led by three lambs on a rope.
“Those are mine,” Thomas said proudly.
“They aren’t yours,” Ruth corrected. “The bishop is only letting you borrow them for the pageant.”
Thomas wasn’t listening. He was already halfway across the schoolyard to the Hooleys. As usual, Naomi ran after him.
A thin, young woman stood at the door, holding a large brass bell in her hand. She smiled broadly as she rang the bell. “Time for school,” Timothy whispered in my ear.
He moved away and walked with his father and grandfather toward the schoolhouse. He was trying to keep a low profile among the Amish; however, my attending the Christmas program as the Troyer family’s guest spoke volumes. Timothy and I could have danced around the schoolyard holding hands, and it would have made no difference. The community knew Timothy was courting me. What the majority of them thought about it remained to be seen.
Becky fell into step beside me. She sighed. “I need to get used to being stared at when I come back into the community.”
The Amish were not subtle in their examination of us in our English clothes. “Just pretend they are staring at me,” I said.
She grinned. “They probably are.”
“Thanks a lot.” We stepped into the schoolhouse and scraped the snow off of our boots on the mat.
Thomas and the other children in the pageant stood in the back corner of the room receiving last-minute instructions from their teacher. While the children made final preparations, parents and families were allowed to roam around the room and view their children’s projects.
The classroom held thirty metal and wooden desks, which weren’t that different from the ones I had in grade school. Each desk had a flip-open lid, so that students could store their pencils, paper, chalk, and slate. In the front of the room sat the teacher’s wide wooden desk, and behind that was a green chalkboard running the entire length of the wall. The alphabet in print and cursive letters hung above the chalkboard. The Amish still taught their children to write in cursive. I took handwriting in school too, but Tanisha’s eleven-year-old brother never had. The public schools in Cleveland now taught keyboarding. That would never be a curriculum concern for the Amish school.
Welcome messages were written side-by-side in Pennsylvania Dutch and English on the chalkboard. Colorful paintings hung from every open wall space in the room and chain links of red and green construction paper hung from the rafters.
A painting of a horse hung on the back wall. It looked like it could gallop right out of the painting. I recognized it immediately as one of Becky’s pieces, and she saw it too. “I thought my teacher would have taken this down when I left the community.”
I patted her shoulder and smiled. “It’s too pretty to take down.”
I scanned the room for the Lambright family. Anna was the youngest and the only one still in school. She wasn’t there, and neither were her parents. I hadn’t really expected to see them. They were in the middle of the Amish tradition of three days of mourning a death in a family.
The younger of the two teachers, a pretty brunette not much older than Becky, rang the school bell again. She spoke in their language, and everyone found a seat. Out of habit the children went to their assigned desks, and the parents and family sat in the three rows of metal folding chairs set up in the back of the classroom.
After each of the seventh and eighth graders, including Ruth, read poems they wrote about the holidays, the Christmas pageant began.
Mary and Joseph spoke about their trip to Bethlehem, how the innkeeper turned them away with a claim of no vacancy, and they traveled on to the manger. The expressions on Mary and Joseph’s faces were so exaggerated that I stifled a laugh. The tiniest of smiles crept onto on Mr. Troyer’s usually stern face. Conversely, his father-in-law beamed from ear to ear.
A small choir of girls sang, “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” in English, and then it was Thomas’s big moment. He stepped onto center stage, in front of Mary and Joseph, gripping the leashes to the three lambs in his hand and tilting his head back as if mesmerized by some celestial being from above.
Had acting been an option for an Amish child, Thomas might have considered it for a career.
“Do you hear the angels singing?” he shouted in top voice, startling the lambs. The animals baaed and ran in opposite directions from Thomas, pulling their leashes from his hand.
Children jumped out of their desks and began chasing the lambs around the room. This only made the animals more terrified. A latecomer opened the schoolhouse door, and the Amish man was nearly run over by a lamb making her great escape. The children cornered the other two by the teacher’s desk.
Parents’ mouths hung open, and Mrs. Troyer covered her face with one hand. Mr. Troyer just shook his head before he and Timothy went outside to track down the bishop’s lost lamb. Grandfather Zook doubled in mirth. I had to look away from him or I would start laughing too.
Thomas’s eyes were enormous as laughter erupted in the room. The two teachers tried to restore order by lining up the three wise men for their cue. Then Bishop Hooley quietly walked two of his captured lambs outside.
Thomas regained his composure. “I think the lambs heard the angels.” He bowed and stepped aside, so that the magi could take center stage from the east.
I could not contain my laughter any longer. I covered my mouth with my winter hat to stifle the fit of giggles that overtook me. When I could breathe again, I glanced across the room to find Deacon Sutter glaring at me.
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 arou
nd 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.”
A Plain Disappearance Page 8