Plain Death

by Flower, Amanda

  “I know that.” His blue eyes scanned my face. “How are you?”

  “Afraid. I thought a lot about what you said last night”—I gazed into his concerned eyes—“that I could have been killed.”

  “Because your car was in disrepair.” He shook the tailgate as if to make sure it was latched properly.

  “No, it’s worse than that. Chief Rose was here this morning.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “She was? Why didn’t you or Becky say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to talk about it in front of the kids.”

  “What did she say?”

  I took a deep breath. “That my car was fine. Someone cut the brake line.”

  Timothy’s eyes grew wide, and he pounded his fist on the gate of his truck. “What?”

  I took a step back, and then told him what the police chief said about the condition of the car.

  He wagged his head back and forth. Slowly. “She thinks someone tried to kill you and Becky?”

  “Or hurt us. Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know, but it could be two men in town named Curt and Brock. They were harassing Becky when I met her. ”

  His eyes flashed angrily. “Greta thinks these men cut the brake line?”

  “They are one possibility. She was going to question them. I imagine she already has by now.”

  His eyes bored into me, his jaw set. “Both of you need to be careful.”

  “I know.” The nauseous feeling from that morning washed over me again. I needed to think about something other than my fear. Becky. Think about Becky. “Becky’s still in trouble too. Even though the brake line was cut and the accident wasn’t completely her fault, she will always be blamed for what happened.” I paused, allowing my eyes to meet his. “Unless we do something.”

  “Like what?” He folded up the neon green bungee cords and dropped them in a white bucket in the bed of his truck.

  “Maybe the police are wrong. Maybe the bishop was the intended victim all along.”

  Timothy frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “We need to find out what really happened.”

  “We?”

  “I need your help, Timothy. I could never find out everything I need from the Amish. You can.”

  He shook his head, his lips pressed into a grim line. “Chloe, you don’t understand. I grew up Amish, but I’m not Amish anymore. There’s a difference. A big difference. Deacon Sutter made that clear today.”

  “You are still closer than I could ever be.” I placed my hand on the edge of the tailgate.

  He sighed.

  I held my gaze on him. “Will you help me?”

  “I will do whatever I can to protect my sister”—he paused—“and you.” He covered my hand with his own and squeezed it for a fraction of a second. His motion was so quick, I wondered if it really happened.

  My stomach did a flip, but not from fear.

  Timothy walked toward the driver’s side of his truck and stopped, his gaze fixed on me again. “Do you need a ride to church tomorrow?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not far. We can walk.”

  He nodded, hopped into his truck, and drove away.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Timothy and Becky attended a Mennonite church two blocks from Appleseed Creek’s square. It was another beautiful day, and I was happy we could walk to enjoy the weather. It also gave me a chance to burn off another of Becky’s colossal breakfasts. I knew she missed her family, but my cholesterol levels shouldn’t be put into jeopardy because of it.

  I wore a knee-length skirt and a white blouse, and Becky wore an ankle-length skirt and blue T-shirt she’d worn the day before. Note to self: take her clothes shopping soon. It might be a fun outing and get our minds off the accident.

  The church was a simple white building with a steeple, but I didn’t see a cross outside. “Is this church much different from your parents’?”

  Becky scrunched her brows. “My family doesn’t go to a church building for Sunday meeting. Old Order Amish don’t have church buildings. The Amish have services in homes in the district.” She glanced at the simple structure. “This is the first church building I’ve ever been inside.”

  “Oh.” I cocked my chin. “But Mennonites build churches? Why?”

  She shrugged. “They’re just different.” She said this as if it were explanation enough, but I suspected something deeper than that.

  Although Becky had insisted my outfit was fine for church, I felt self-conscious when we started up the walkway. All the women and girls wore long skirts similar to Becky’s. I tugged at the hem of mine, willing it to grow another twelve inches.

  Despite the long skirts, the women wore colors and patterns. Many sported flowered blouses similar to the one Becky wore when I met her on the side of the road.

  Becky took a deep breath. Three young women about Becky’s age stood at the base of the church’s cement steps.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I can do this.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Of course you can.”

  She walked up to them, and I followed. A pretty brunette held out her hand to me. “Welcome to our church. I’m Hannah Hilty. You must be Chloe.”

  I blinked at her use of my name. Then again, I imagined the buggy accident had been a big topic of conversation in the Amish and Mennonite communities in Knox County.

  I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Hannah.”

  She pointed to her friend with bright red cheeks. Was she embarrassed or recovering from a sunburn? “This is Emily,” Hannah said. She pointed to a second friend, this one rail thin and at least six feet tall. I wondered how she found skirts long enough for her frame. “And that’s Kim.”

  I waved a hello.

  Hannah examined Becky’s cast, now covered with the signatures of her siblings, grandfather, and me. “Becky, I’m glad to see you’re not more seriously injured. Does it hurt?”

  Becky wrapped her left hand protectively around the cast. “Not much.”

  “Have you spoken to Isaac?” Kim asked.

  Becky tilted up her chin to look at the much taller girl.

  “Do you know Isaac?” I asked. “Are you former Amish too?”

  Emily snorted. “She thinks we’re Amish.”

  Hannah looked annoyed. “No, we are all Mennonites. The church has a few former Amish members like Timothy, but most of us have never been Amish.”

  Definitely the wrong question to ask. My first day at a new church and I was already inserting my foot in my mouth.

  “Is Timothy here?” I asked.

  Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Are you looking for him?”

  What’s her problem?

  The church bell rang, cutting our conversation short. We headed inside to find wooden pews, white walls, and not a shard of stained glass in the place. Across the sanctuary, Timothy laughed at something his roommate Danny said. He looked handsome in dress pants, a blue button-down shirt, and a solid blue tie. It was the first time I’d seen him in anything other than work clothes.

  He looked across the pews in my direction, and his eyes lit up, making my heart skip a beat. But his gaze didn’t meet mine. I turned and saw Hannah’s eyes locked on his, a full-mouthed smile greeting him.

  I looked away and bit the inside of my lip.

  Becky gave her brother a big hug as he approached us. “Chloe came just like she said she would.”

  He smiled at me. “I never doubted that she would.”

  My cheeks grew hot.

  Hannah sidestepped me. “Timothy, we missed you at the social yesterday.” She pouted.

  “Sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said.

  Hannah glance
d at Becky. “I hope it wasn’t because of the accident. I’m glad to see Becky is okay. We were so worried.” She turned to her friends. “Weren’t we, girls?”

  “Terrified,” red-cheeked Emily said.

  Hannah’s eyes darted to Becky’s cast. “The poor Glick family. I don’t know how they will ever recover, and Isaac must be devastated.”

  Becky gave a small gasp when Hannah mentioned Isaac by name. Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them away.

  Timothy took a step back from the Mennonite girl. “They are in our prayers.”

  “Becky, this must be so hard for you, considering how close you were to the Glick family.” Hannah wrapped her arm around Becky’s shoulder and whispered something to her.

  Becky gasped and pulled away. “Excuse me,” she whispered and left the church.

  Timothy glared at Hannah. “What did you say to her?”

  Hannah’s eyes grew wide as a doe’s. “I said I was praying for her. Why do you think that would upset her?”

  The praise band at the front of the church began playing the prelude to the service.

  Hannah linked her arm through Timothy’s and threw her minions a look. “Let’s find our seats.” They followed her as she walked with Timothy down the aisle.

  Instead of trailing in their wake, I went in search of Becky and found her under a maple tree, cradling her right arm.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but tears brimmed her eyes.

  “Gee, that Hannah seems like a real sweetheart.”

  Becky chuckled, but the sound of her laughter died away.

  “No wonder you didn’t want to come today. What did she say to you?”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What’s going on between her and Timothy?” I hoped my question sounded casual.

  Her brows shot up. “Timothy and Hannah?” She sounded genuinely surprised. “Nothing. Why?”

  I shrugged. “No reason. “ I doubted Hannah would give me the same answer, but I was happy to hear it from Becky. I changed the subject. “When I get a new car, we need to go shopping. You need some new things to wear to your new job.”

  “I don’t have any money.”

  “You can pay me back when you get paid.”

  She grinned. “Okay. Can I buy a pair of jeans?”

  I laughed. “You can buy whatever you want.” I glanced at the doors to the church. “Are you ready to go inside?”

  She inhaled a deep breath. “Yes.”

  I helped her up, then looped my arm through her good one, and together we strolled back into the church.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As we exited the church an hour later, I spotted Chief Rose across the street leaning against her police cruiser. Church members whispered as they traversed the lawn to their cars. The police chief, with her unwavering gaze and arms crossed at the chest, seemed to revel in the attention.

  Becky scowled. “What is she doing here?”

  “I have no idea.” I scanned the crowd for Timothy. He and Danny stood with Hannah and her pals. I wasn’t going to interrupt that conversation.

  “I can’t talk to her here,” Becky said. “People will see.”

  I nodded, licking my lips. “Why don’t you start walking home, and I’ll talk to her. If she needs you, she knows where to find you.”

  Becky gave me a grateful smile and hurried down the sidewalk.

  I ignored the stares from the people leaving the church as I approached the police chief. “Can I help you with something, Chief Rose?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “You know where I live. Why did you have to show up here at church? Becky is already the main topic of conversation in town. You glowering at us from across the street doesn’t help.” I paused. “How did you know we would be here anyway?”

  She adjusted the aviator sunglasses on her nose. Did she think she looked like a TV cop? “This is the church Becky’s been attending, isn’t it?”

  “How would you know that?”

  She shrugged. “It’s called police work. This is my town. It’s my business to know everything.”

  I clenched my jaw to stop a smart retort. Sarcasm wasn’t going to help Becky.

  “I was hoping to talk to both you and Becky, but I guess just you will do.”

  “What is it?”

  “Curt and Brock have an airtight alibi. They were in lockup in the county jail for drunk and disorderly conduct on Friday. They weren’t released until eight on Friday morning. According to Becky, she left your house around eight that morning, so the timetable rules them out.”

  My heart sank. “Maybe they cut the brake line before they were arrested.”

  Chief Rose shook her head. “The crime scene investigator doesn’t think so. He said the line was cut so deeply that he estimates it would have given way your first drive with it.”

  “So what.”

  The chief folded her arms across her chest. “So what?”

  “The last time I drove the car was Wednesday afternoon. There was a lot of time between Wednesday afternoon and Thursday night. They still could have done it.”

  Chief Rose sighed. “I know that. Wednesday and Thursday they were on a job in Columbus. I have a reliable witness for that one, too.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t realized how much I wanted it to be Curt and Brock, how much I wanted this to all be over. Unfortunately, it was turning out to be a lot harder than I expected.

  “Any other possibilities?” the police chief asked.

  My shoulders slumped. “I have no idea who else could have done it.”

  She stared at me intently. “Is there anyone else who doesn’t like you?”

  Sabrina came to mind, but the thought of my stepmother making the effort was laughable. “No, I can’t think of anyone.”

  She removed her sunglasses, revealing blue eye liner. Did she go through a pencil a week? “They must have been after Becky, then. Do you know if she has any enemies?”

  “No.”

  “She left the Amish, correct? Maybe her family was upset about it.” She tapped her sunglasses on her cheek.

  I barked a laugh. “Upset enough to cut the brake line in my car? No way.”

  Her mouth formed a hard line.

  I debated telling her my theory that the bishop was the intended victim, but I held my tongue. Truth be told, there were a lot of holes in my idea. First of all, how would the person who cut the brake line know that Becky would come across the bishop on Butler Road? The more I thought about my idea, the more ridiculous it seemed.

  “Have you thought about the accident in relation to the problems on the Amish farms?” I asked.

  “If Curt and Brock had nothing to do with your car, then the incidents can’t be related. I’m almost certain those two are behind damage in the Amish district. I just can’t get any Amish witnesses to help me prove it.” She opened the door to her cruiser. “I’d be careful, Chloe. Curt and Brock know they were questioned about the accident. They aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, but they’ll figure out who turned them in. You see them, you call me.”

  I shivered. “What about their threats against me? Or driving by my house at night?”

  She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her. “You can always open a restraining order on them if you want to.”

  I didn’t like that idea. Maybe telling the police chief my suspicions was enough to encourage them to leave Becky and me alone.

  Chief Rose slapped the hood of her car. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I don’t doubt it.

  She hopped into her cruiser and drove away. When I could no longer see Chief Rose’s car, I started down the sidewalk in the direction that Becky went.

 
Footsteps running behind me on the sidewalk made my heart nearly jump out of my chest. Was it Curt or Brock? I spun around to see Timothy jogging toward me. “Chloe, wait!”

  I stopped and tried not to think about Hannah and him together.

  “What did Greta say?”

  I blinked at him. “Greta?”

  His face flushed. “Chief Rose, I mean.”

  I ignored the knot in my stomach and instead relayed my conversation with the police chief. Despite doubts about my own theory, I added, “We need to make sure it was just a coincidence Bishop Glick was on that road when Becky was.”

  He nodded.

  “What can we do?”

  “Nothing today. It’s Sunday. The Amish will be at church meetings that will last most of the day.”

  I was itching to do something, but knew he was right.

  He stood close, his head leaning to one side, as if considering our plight. “What time do you get off work tomorrow?”

  “I can go in early and leave at four.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up at your office then.”

  “To do what?”

  “You’ll see.” He lightly punched me on the arm before jogging back to the church.

  If anyone had heard that conversation, he or she might think Timothy and I had set a date. Sadly, we had not. Guys over eight years old don’t punch girls they like on the arm. At least none of the guys I’d known before moving to Appleseed Creek.

  I glanced back at the church. Timothy and Hannah were talking. Alone. Her two delightful buddies nowhere in view. My meeting with Timothy tomorrow was definitely not a date.

  As I walked the rest of the way back to the house, my mind drifted away from thoughts of Timothy. Instead, I found myself watching for the green pickup around every corner. Thankfully, I never saw it.

  Back at the house, I found Becky curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her skirt. She held Gigabyte in her lap, and tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

  “Becky, are you okay? Did something else happen?”

  She nodded but couldn’t speak.