“Can I leave my bike here?”
“Sure, but—”
“I’ll pick it up for her later, Henry. Danki!” Jesse grabbed her hand and they ran across the parking area toward Katie’s Mercantile.
“Maybe it has nothing to do with the other events.”
“I hope not.” Hannah’s breath came out in little gasps. She’d never been good at running.
“Seems strange though. Seems like it might.”
“Ya.”
They skidded to a stop in front of Katie’s store. Hannah and Jesse slowly walked inside. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Maybe she wasn’t seeing it. Maybe this was a bad dream. At least half of Katie’s merchandise had been knocked off shelves and onto the floor.
“Look at this.” Jesse knelt and scooped up a handful of something off the floor.
“Birdseed?”
“Ya. Quite a lot of it, apparently.”
The seed was scattered throughout the store—on shelves, over furniture, and across the floor.
Katie Schmucker rushed out of the back room carrying a broom and dustpan. Hannah knew Katie had recently turned fifty. She had been married once, but now she was a widow. She had never had children. It had always seemed to Hannah that Katie’s customers were her children. She was gray-haired, short, and plump. She was also as sweet as shoofly pie.
“What happened, Katie?” Hannah turned in a circle, still unable to believe the disaster she was seeing.
“How I wish I knew. I arrived at work—to this!” Her voice trembled, and Hannah realized with a start that she was about to cry. She’d never seen Katie cry, and she didn’t want to start with this morning.
“Don’t worry. We’ll help—Jesse and I will.”
Jesse took the broom and dustpan from her and started sweeping.
“But you each have your own jobs.”
“We’re early,” Jesse explained. “Together we can clean this up in no time.”
Katie nodded, but she didn’t look as if she believed him.
Hannah noticed bird droppings all over one shelf. She headed toward the back for a bucket of water and a sponge. When she returned to the main room, Katie was explaining what she’d found.
“You heard them when you came in the back?”
“Ya. It was terrible.”
“Heard who?” Hannah began scrubbing shelves and replacing merchandise.
“Not who.” Katie continued pulling soiled merchandise off the shelves. She’d brought in a box to place those items in, and the box was nearly full. “What.”
“What?” Hannah decided it would be better to work following behind Katie, so she stepped back and waited, gazing around the room, and that was when she saw it.
“Animals! Birds and raccoons. I think there was even a possum.”
Hannah walked across the room. Windows lined the top of the south wall. She stopped when she reached the very last one.
“I opened the front door and hooted and hollered. They fled as if a coyote was after them, but a few of the birds went into a panic. I had to chase them out with a broom.”
“Hannah, what are you looking at?” Jesse had finished sweeping the aisle of kitchen goods and was making his way down the aisle of lamps, lanterns, and candles.
Katie had stopped talking and joined her. She heard Jesse set down his broom and walk their way.
“Did you leave it open?” Jesse asked.
“Nein. How could I? There’s no way I could even reach it.”
The window was pushed open all the way. A few feathers remained on the latch, and it was obvious from the disarray below it that the animals had used the open window as their entry point.
“Someone opened it.” Hannah moved her head left and then right, but she didn’t see anything up by the window. It certainly wouldn’t have allowed a person to come through. It only opened about two inches.
“And someone scattered this birdseed throughout the store.” Katie sounded more amazed than angry. “But who would do that? Why would they do it? And how would they do it?”
Jesse didn’t answer, but he looked straight at Hannah. She didn’t doubt for a moment that they had the same thought. They’d just been talking about the recent vandalism, and now this!
There was noise near the front door, and all three turned in that direction. The cleaning crew had arrived.
“Thank you both. You’ve helped a lot, and you calmed me down.”
Hannah gave her a hug, and Jesse promised to stop by later to see if there was anything else she needed.
As they hurried away to their respective jobs, Hannah asked, “Thoughts?”
“Same person. Has to be. Whoever did it—well, it’s like they’re playing pranks.”
“Except they aren’t very funny.”
“Agreed.”
Hannah reached out and touched Jesse’s arm, pulled him to a stop. “Did you see what was next to the register?”
“I saw bird droppings everywhere.”
“Nein. That’s not what I mean. There was a framed needlepoint sampler, like the ones done by women from our church.”
Jesse shrugged.
“It wasn’t there before. Katie keeps all the needlework on an aisle with embroidery yarn, patterns, Aida cloth—stuff like that.”
“Why would someone move it?”
“Because of what was stitched on it—”
Jesse smiled, and then he reached forward and pulled birdseed from her hair. A delicious shiver crept down her arm when he touched her, but she ignored it. “And what was that, Hannah?”
“Daniel 9, verse 10. The words to Daniel 9, verse 10.”
“I don’t know that one.”
“No one knows that one! And no one would stitch those words onto cloth for framing. It’s not a verse to encourage—it’s more to warn. Why would someone stitch a warning and place it by Katie’s register?”
Amber sat at a table near the window inside A Simple Blend. She sipped Hannah’s strongest blend of coffee with a shot of espresso added and whipped cream on top. Dread was filling her stomach, making it difficult to enjoy the coffee. This was not the way she had hoped to start her day. Caffeine was a needed dietary supplement for her, but it didn’t make her any happier about what she was holding in her other hand. She had positioned a dish towel over the frame, but even with the protection of the dish towel she tried to keep her fingers at the back. The last thing she wanted to do was destroy evidence.
We have not obeyed the LORD our God or kept the laws he gave us. Daniel 9:10.
She and Hannah both stared at the hand-stitched verse.
Hannah’s early morning rush had stumbled out, clutching their cups of caffeine. For the moment they were alone in the shop.
“How is Katie doing? Was she able to open for customers?” Hannah had poured herself a cup of hot tea, which the shop also offered. Ethan’s binder explained that she was allowed one free drink per day. When Hannah had showed it to her, Amber had marked out the word “One” and written “Unlimited” over it.
“Katie’s doing all right. She thinks the incident was a prank by local teens. She’s not angry as much as she is flustered—and still busy cleaning off soiled merchandise. I sent her an extra girl to help in the store today.”
“And she didn’t mind you taking this?” Hannah nodded at the framed verse but didn’t touch it.
“No. She said she’d never seen it before.” Amber sighed and placed the framed cross-stitch back into the large paper bag she’d grabbed from the restaurant. It was possible Gordon would be able to get some fingerprints off it.
“I’m glad you called me, Hannah. It was smart of you to notice that it seemed out of place. Does this verse mean anything to you? Our perpetrator seems to have a fascination with the book of Daniel.”
“Nein. I’ve read Daniel before—a few verses here and there. Every Amish child is taught about the servants of God, Old Testament and New.”
“What are your church services like?”
> “They’re in German and last about three hours. We have a lot of singing—”
“No musical instruments.”
“Correct. There are also two sermons for each church service, Scripture reading, and prayer.”
Amber studied her for a moment. “Not so different from our services, except we only have the one sermon and folks grow fidgety if the pastor goes past one hour.”
“Ya. But we begin early so I believe we both finish up about the same time. We have Englisch neighbors, and my younger bruders play with their children sometimes—baseball and such.”
Amber stared out the window at another perfect spring day. She didn’t want to offend Hannah by questioning her, but she needed to ask. “Do you remember a recent sermon on Daniel?”
“Nein. I think that our sermons, that is to say the preaching style, is very different from yours. Mostly our pastors stick to the Gospels. Do you think the person doing these things is from the Amish community?”
“I don’t know. I honestly haven’t a clue what or whom we’re dealing with here.”
“How did they get into Katie’s shop to spread the birdseed? And why? It’s such a mean thing to do.”
“Katie discovered her spare key to the back door was missing. She kept it on a lanyard hanging on a hook next to her desk. It was there yesterday, because she used it when she couldn’t find her own keys. But she put it back when she discovered her keys next to the coffeepot in her break room.”
“What does that mean?”
“Someone must have taken it, then come back into her shop after it was closed.” Amber tapped the bag with the stitched Scripture inside.
“Or it could have been someone who had a key already.”
Amber shook her head. “The only people who have a set of Village keys are Larry and me, so that doesn’t make sense. Speaking of Larry, I had a word with him this morning. He claims to never have had a disagreement with Ethan. Could your friend have been mistaken?”
“Nein. It was Ethan and Larry. They were sure.”
Amber sipped her coffee, then returned to the previous topic. “I think someone must have stolen Katie’s key, then put it back after they did their damage. These messages must be a warning of some sort. The person who is doing this is obviously not happy with the Village.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I do either, but it’s a good thing you called me directly on my cell. Katie was so stunned, not to mention overwhelmed, that she might have forgotten. Her first thought was a cleanup crew. It helped that I was able to come down and see the vandalism myself.”
“And you took a picture of the shop?”
“I did. Now I have all three incidents recorded. Maybe if I look at it often enough, I’ll think of something.”
“But the police are helping, ya?”
“They’re trying.” Amber stood and gathered her tablet, coffee, the paper bag, and her keys.
“What are you going to do?”
“I think it’s time that I call a meeting of managers. In the meantime, if you hear anything new today, give me a ring.”
Walking outside, she held her hand up to block the early morning sun. She wanted to walk around the pond, enjoy the day just a little, but instead she turned right and headed back to her office. She checked her e-mail as she walked, and before she’d gone twenty feet, she bumped smack into Gordon Avery.
“Careful.” He reached out and put a hand on both of her arms.
“Gordon. I didn’t see you.” Amber took two steps back and tried to stop the blush that was creeping up her face.
“Apparently.”
“Thank you for coming—again.”
“Not a problem, but there wasn’t much we could do at your most recent crime site. Your cleaning crew did a good job of obliterating any evidence.” The words were said in an even tone, so she couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. Perhaps he was just doing his job.
“The birds, coons, and possums beat both of us to the crime scene. I don’t think you’d have found anything helpful.”
“We did dust the window for fingerprints, but came up with nothing. The window didn’t open itself, so we’ll assume the perp was wearing gloves.”
They’d nearly reached the restaurant. She thought about inviting him up to her office, but she didn’t want to lose too much of her morning. She was already behind with her to-do list, and the e-mails that needed attention were piling up. So instead of proceeding to her office, she stepped to the side of the door, allowing customers to make their way around them.
“Maybe this will help.” She handed him the bag with the verse from Daniel. “It’s the strange verse that was left by the front register. Maybe you can find a fingerprint on it. I don’t think someone could stitch wearing gloves. It would be awkward.”
“It’s our best hope. Thank you for not putting it in a plastic bag.”
“I did an Internet search for the best way to handle evidence.”
“Couldn’t you just have left it where it was?” As if he realized how harsh the words had come out, Gordon attempted a smile. It came out more of a grimace. “We’ll dust the frame, but the cloth won’t yield much.”
“I thought the science had improved, that you could retrieve fingerprints from cloth when you used—”
“You might ease up on your Internet searches. Just because something is possible doesn’t mean that we have the capability to do it.”
“But—”
“A homicide? We’d send it to Indianapolis or Fort Wayne. They might, and I said might, be able to retrieve prints from fabric. It’s difficult, time-consuming, and expensive. There’s no way I can request it for a case of vandalism where no one was hurt.”
There was no arguing with him. She knew Gordon well enough to understand that. And part of what he said made sense, unless this most recent incident was connected to Ethan’s death. Another part of her wondered if he even wanted to find the perp, which was a ridiculous thought. Of course he did. It might seem like he was brushing her off, but no doubt she was being too sensitive. Stress often had that effect on her.
She noticed that he again hadn’t asked how she was doing, focusing instead on the crime and the evidence. Well, that was his job, and his attitude shouldn’t bother her at all.
Though she had to wonder about their relationship. Did they even have one? She had turned him down the last few times he’d asked her out. With a start, she realized she was more comfortable not seeing him on a personal level. He was a nice guy, her age, and single, but beyond that they didn’t seem to have much in common. There certainly was no spark.
Or perhaps she was making excuses, like her sister claimed she did every time a possible relationship began to grow serious.
“Did you handle this?” Gordon held the paper bag as if it had a skunk in it.
“With a dish towel, but I tried to only touch the back. I suspect you’ll have the best chance of finding prints on the frame.” She waited for him to congratulate her on finding a piece of evidence, but he didn’t. “I hope it yields something.”
Gordon grunted. “I’m going to be honest with you. It seems more and more to me like this is the work of some teen punks. Maybe Amish—on their rumspringa. Or Englischers—on a wild tear. Either way, there’s no actual violence involved and I don’t think you have to worry about anyone’s safety.”
“And Ethan?”
“We both know that was a heart attack. Look, Amber.” He tugged on her arm to pull her away from anyone who might overhear. “I understand you might be spooked by this, but my suggestion would be to perhaps hire a couple of security guards to catch these thugs before they do some real property damage.”
“We had video security in Katie’s shop.” Amber’s voice rose defensively. “Someone turned it off.”
“Katie can’t even remember if she turned it on.” Gordon scrubbed a hand over his face, and for a moment she saw the tiredness there. “Talk to your managers. Maybe schedule a h
alf-day training seminar on good security protocols. I’ve emailed you the name of a firm that does classes. They’ll even come here. I’ll also send you the names of a few people who are willing to work security.”
“That’s it?”
“We’ll pursue the clues we have.” He looked doubtfully at the bag. “And of course we’ll come out if you need us. But I can’t afford to leave officers here when it seems certain these are kids playing games.”
Amber couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was deserting her!
“Check your files. See if you’ve fired anyone recently. Send me those names, and I’ll check them out.”
With that final piece of advice, Gordon turned and walked away.
Thirteen
Tate pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home. After placing his truck in park, he fidgeted with his tie one last time. He rarely wore them anymore, and it felt as if someone had their hands clamped around his neck.
The funeral home looked no different than it had four years ago when Peggy had died. He’d been to three other visitations since then. He supposed he was at that age, fifty-two, when funerals became a routine part of life. The thought depressed him.
Walking to the front door, he nodded to several people he knew. In spite of Ethan’s sour personality, the event seemed well attended. Folks tended to forgive and forget, at least until the body went into the ground—then old grudges usually flared back up.
He signed the guest book and then hesitated. Should he go straight into the room where Ethan was? Or should he wait and socialize a few minutes? You’d think he’d be better at this. It wasn’t as if he had been close friends with Ethan, but the man had attended his church. Proper thing to do was show up at the visitation.
“Tate, it’s good to see you.” His pastor, Mitch Dodson, signed in behind him and then shook his hand.
Mitch was tall, thin, and had receding hair that had managed to stay black in spite of his age.
He had been the pastor of Tate’s church since Tate’s boys were in high school—probably over ten years now. Tate thought he was a fair man with a good heart. It helped that his sermons were interesting and not fire and brimstone like the guy they’d had before him. Tate understood too well the repercussions of his sin. He went to church to hear about hope, to be encouraged. That was a thing Mitch seemed naturally born to—encouraging others. The thought made Tate feel all the more guilty that he hadn’t been attending regularly.
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