Solitude Death, An Amish Country Murder Mystery

by Sandy McKee

  “Hey, Dana. I’m sorry I was such a grouch yesterday. I had a hell of a hangover and couldn’t really place you. I talked to my younger brother, Glenn, after you left. He was a grade behind us. Mom dug out some old pictures and I figured out who you were. You know, you were o.k. Glenn remembered a report you gave on your dad. My brother was a better student than I ever was. He said he remembered it ‘cause you were so proud of your dad who had fought in the Pacific in World War II. Glenn said you cried when you told about how he lost his eye in the Battle of Guadacanal. But then I started to remember that you were a good friend. That was just so damn long ago.”

  “I was really obsessed with World War II,” I responded. “I could never get Dad to talk to me much about the war. I knew he was over there for four years and said so little. But if I told him I needed something for school, he’d tell me a little bit. Ralphie, I wanted to apologize to you too. I shouldn’t have just dropped by like I did yesterday. I can see how you thought I was really out of line.”

  “Damn, what happened to your face? You look like someone beat the shit out of you!”

  “I think someone might have run me off the road last night. I rolled the Jeep. I was hoping you might be able to do some repairs on it. All in all, I was lucky. I’m afraid that I’m making some people uncomfortable.”

  Ralphie wheeled his chair around the Jeep surveying the damage. “Sure, this won’t take too much. I can get at it tomorrow if you want. I’ll give you a ride home. And please just call me Ralph. My mother’s the only one who still calls me Ralphie.”

  We got into Ralph’s van and headed out. I noticed that it was customized with hand controls. It was clear that Ralph took a lot of pride in his vehicle. I noticed several firearms on the seat behind us. “You’ve got quite an arsenal there.”

  “Oh, I can still enjoy shooting groundhogs and the like. I also shoot trap at the Rod and Gun Club. It’s on our way. Let’s stop and have a sandwich. You might find it very interesting.”

  I figured I didn’t have too much choice, so I nodded. “I like to shoot skeet. I was on a team when I lived in Florida. Do you have women who shoot at your club?”

  Ralph lit a cigarette making be very nervous about his hand controlled driving. “Sure, there’s a few. You interested?

  I shrugged as we pulled into the Big Bass Rod and Gun Club. There were a few pickup trucks parked in the lot. I saw a few young guys shooting skeet on the outside range. Ralph motioned me inside. “In our dry township, this is the only place you can get a beer with your burger.”

  There were a few older men sitting at the bar who nodded at Ralph as we took a table. A huge bald guy covered with tattoos came over with a pitcher of beer. “Hey Ralph, you shouldn’t beat on your women. You’ll get a reputation.”

  Ralph introduced me to his brother Glenn and told Glenn why my face was a mess. “Sounds like you better be careful, Dana. I remember how you liked getting in everyone’s business back in grade school. Some folks just can’t help themselves.” Glenn grinned at me and slapped me on the back. “How do you like your burger?”

  Ralph lit another smoke and poured us each a beer. “Glenn has been a life saver to me. He got me set up in business and is always there for me. He has five kids who I love like my own. He named his oldest boy for me. He’s over in the Gulf now. Looks like we’re headed for another war. “

  I nodded. “Saddam Hussein is saying it’s going to be another Vietnam for us. I wish someone would just take that guy out.”

  “I’d love to do that. I hope the powers that be get it right this time. Don’t get me started. We could have won Vietnam, if the government had really wanted to. I get so damned mad…..”

  “It’s a pretty upsetting subject for me too, Ralph. I can’t help but wondering if there’s any chance that my husband is still held prisoner over there.” I excused my self to go to the restroom. I noticed that the Ten Commandments were posted on the wall along with a photo of President Bush, pro gun posters and NRA bulletins. The restroom sign led me into the indoor shooting range. The targets included a picture of Jane Fonda, Saddem Hussein, and an Amish buggy. I shook my head and closed the restroom door behind me.

  By the time I got back to the table, the burgers and fries were waiting. They smelled great and I dug in. “This tastes great. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  Ralph smiled. “Even rednecks can cook. So, what do you think of our club? You wanna join?”

  “I doubt they’d have me,” I replied. “Our politics might clash too much. I believe in the second amendment, but don’t believe that the Democrats are out to take our guns away. Those targets on the shooting range creep me out.”

  “Aw, they’re just a joke. It’s a free country. I figure shooting targets can be a good outlet for the anger and rage some guys have. A lot of them feel they’ve been dealt a lousy hand. Look at me. I sign up to serve my country and come back a gimp. My life has been hell. I’ve had more operations than I can count. The country looks down their nose at Vietnam Vets. And forget trying to meet a good woman. So I drink, fix cars and shoot my guns.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “It must be difficult. But, I still don’t get blaming others for our problems. I think we make our own destiny. It’s like with the Amish, I really don’t understand why people can’t just live and let live. They don’t bother anyone.”

  “Dana, you don’t get it. You’re a woman. Your folks had some money. You got out of here, then chose to come back. A lot of these guys have no choices. They got drafted into a war they had no interest in. They come back to few prospects and women who had moved on. They see your Amish friends living in a safe little bubble. They don’t get drafted, they only go to school to eighth grade, they got more money than they can ever spend. Hell, I read somewhere they even had camps to protect the Amish and other so-called conscientious objectors during World War I.”

  “I’m beginning to see how it is. Are the Amish really that rich?”

  “Hell yes. Glenn’s wife worked in a local bank for a while. She was amazed at how much money those Amish have. They have all those kids working for nothing. They take in a lot of dough and what do they have to spend it on. She said some of them are millionaires.”

  “Well, they do work hard,” I replied. “I guess some folks could really resent the Amish, but killing an innocent young school teacher?”

  Ralph took a swig of his beer. “Naw, I wouldn’t put it past some of the guys around here doing some of the other crap, but they wouldn’t have done that killing. I hear the talk around here. Everyone thinks that was much more personal.”

  By the time Ralph dropped me off at home, I was pretty much convinced that the murder really was separate from the other crimes. I needed to get back to Fannie and see if maybe she could help me speak to someone in Constance’s family. I thought my best bet might be Fannie’s daughter-in-law, Constance’s sister, Elizabeth. I never had a sister, but figured Elizabeth might be one of the most likely people that Constance would confide in on a regular basis.

  I told Mom I’d be back in time to fix dinner and took a ride over to Fannie’s. She was out in the garden picking tomatoes. As I drove up in my Miata, she waved. She looked concerned as I approached her.

  “What happened to you?” asked Fannie.

  “I think someone ran me off the road last night. I didn’t get to even see what the vehicle looked like. Both I and my mother’s car came through it pretty well. Then I got a message claiming that Constance’s murder was not committed by the same ones who have been doing the other stuff. I think the police have a pretty good idea and will be arresting some young guys soon for the harassment. I don’t think they have any real leads on the murder though. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  “Yes, of course, but maybe you should keep out of this. You could get really hurt! But I guess you already know that. Anyhow, there was something that I meant to tell you the other day, then I changed my mind. I hate to betray Elizabeth’s trust, but the more I thi
nk about it, it could be important.”

  I took a deep breath. Maybe I wouldn’t have to broach the subject of incest. I was so afraid that the suggestion, whether wrong or right could put a real strain on our friendship. That sort of thing can be so personal and explosive in any family.

  “Well, I was wondering if there was any chance that I could speak to Elizabeth about her sister. I had a couple questions that only she might be able to answer.”

  “Oh I don’t think so, Dana. She is very shy and very private. She doesn’t much trust any of the English and she is so bitter about her sister’s death. She does talk to me, and I only hope she’ll one day forgive me for sharing with you.”

  We sat down on some outside chairs. Fannie began, “Elizabeth and her sister spoke to each other pretty often. Constance was so outgoing. She loved her teaching job as well as helping out at the Cheese Shop. When I asked Elizabeth if Constance had told her about anything unusual going on in her life, she had relayed an incident that took place a few days ago at the Cheese Shop. Constance had worked there that day and when she got home, she realized that she’d forgotten her lunch bag. She went back, not so much for the lunch bag, but because she usually carried her diary in her lunch bag. When she got any free time, she would write in it. When she got back to the Cheese Shop, it was closed, and the door was locked, but she saw that the owner’s car was still parked there. She walked around to the back, where the processing took place. She said she heard some voices shouting at each other. She waited a few minutes concerned that Sharon, the owner, was okay. Before long, a man came out the back door. When he spotted her, he asked what she was doing there. She explained that she’d left her lunch bag with her diary in it and wanted to get it. He told her to get out of there, that Sharon didn’t want bothered. She nodded and went home, but watched to make sure that the man had left, too.”

  “Did she hear anything that they were arguing about? Was it her husband?” I asked.

  “That’s what’s interesting, Dana. Constance said it wasn’t Sharon’s husband, but the two were talking about getting married. The man was angry because he seemed to want Sharon to try to get both the businesses and most of the money in the divorce. Sharon seemed to want to be fairer and give Bob and their kids the businesses and a large share of their money. Sharon said she didn’t care about money and just wanted to be with the man. The man seemed real worried about getting his hands on the money.”

  “Did Constance know who the man was?”

  “No, Elizabeth said Constance thought she might have seen him before, but wasn’t sure who he was. Elizabeth told her that she’d better keep quiet about what she heard. Now Elizabeth is so afraid that the man might have had something to do with her sister’s death. She blames herself for telling her to not tell anyone about what she’d heard. Then when Elizabeth heard that Constance’s lunch bag was missing from the murder scene, she felt even more certain that the man at the Cheese Shop was involved.”

  “Who all do you think Elizabeth has told about this?” I asked.

  “I think just me. I know she trusts me. She knows she should tell her father and husband, but isn’t sure what they might do. She’s so worried that someone else might get hurt. The bishops and elders say it’s best to move on with our lives and not focus on the crime. They even say that we need to forgive the person who did this to Constance.”

  I shook my head, saying how much I hoped the person would be taken out of society so he wouldn’t harm any more innocent people. I thanked Fannie, promising her that I would try to not betray her trust. I agreed with her that this was most likely the key to figuring out who killed Constance.

  I should have headed home, but knew I had to first stop at the Cheese Shop and talk to Sharon. I was feeling so uneasy, but couldn’t back off now. I raced down the road as fast as the turns allowed.

  Sharon was behind the counter serving a customer. She smiled when she saw me. She looked pretty stressed out or maybe it was my imagination. After the customer left, I looked her in the eyes. “Sharon, I hate to pry, but I have to. I heard that you were having an affair, and I have reason to believe that it might be tied to Constance Slaughbach’s murder.”

  She looked at me in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You can’t come in here making false accusations. Where did you hear this crap?”

  “Does it really matter? It was a reliable source. I’m not saying that you had anything to do with the murder, but I think it’s all related.”

  By then, Sharon was crying. “It’s over now. I ended it. It was a stupid fling. You try living in this boring place, married to the same boring man since high school. I just got caught up in the thrill of being with someone else who was so charming at first. It was kind of exciting, but murder?”

  I gave her a hug. “I think Constance overheard you arguing with your lover. He got worried that she’d tell someone and decided to shut her up.”

  “Oh, my God! Surely he wouldn’t do something that awful. I realized, too late, that he was bad news and just out for money, but I never dreamed he would hurt anyone.”

  “Who is he, Sharon? We’ve got to set things right.”

  She nodded slowly. “This is probably going to ruin me, my marriage, my business, my position in the church. I am so sick. It was Van White. I knew about his reputation, but he was so charming and fun.”

  We talked for a good while trying to decide what to do next. We both agreed that Van should be brought to justice and feared he’d take off, if he had any idea that we were onto to him. We tried to decide whether to call the police or go forward a little more without them.

  I convinced Sharon that it might be in her best interest to get Van to confess on tape. That way he might plead guilty and take a plea deal. A long trial would just bring more distress to Sharon and her family and business. We began to make plans as to how to get Van to make a confession.

  Chapter 12

  That night, Sharon agreed to call Van and set up a meeting in some place where she could confront him with the accusation, and he wouldn’t be likely to feel anyone was watching or listening. We agreed that a local park along the creek might be a good place. There were a few picnic tables and benches. Few people would likely be around on a weekday. I would set up a hidden camera and sound mike that could photograph any of the tables and pick up their voices. I’d take Toby for a jog through the park and activate the equipment an hour or so before they agreed to meet. I agreed to hide in the surrounding woods with binoculars. I’d also be armed and take action if Van attempted to harm Sharon. Planning for the worst scenario, we would write up a letter describing what we were doing and why and mail it to the police that morning.

  We came up with several possible scenarios, and soon realized that we’d just hope and pray for the best. I went home to await a call from Sharon.

  Sharon called me around 7:00 pm. She said that Van had agreed to meet with her before work at 8:30 a.m. the next day. He, too, seemed to think a neutral spot was a good idea. Sharon said she’d bring coffee. I told her which table would provide us with the best camera angle and bid her a good night.

  I was up at 5:00 a.m. the next morning, and feeling terribly anxious. I had checked out all the camera equipment the night before and decided to go set it up before daybreak. When I was satisfied that everything was in place, I put a long play tape in the camera, ready to be switched on around 7:30 am. I tried to eat some breakfast, but my stomach was too upset. I dressed in one of Dad’s camo hunting suits and put my 38 pistol into its holster, praying I wouldn’t need to use it. I decided to leave Toby at home. I ran through the park, saw no one, and switched on the camera at 7:25. I continued on into the woods. I lay down behind some trees where I could get a good view of the tables and threw some leaves over myself and waited. Sharon showed up first around 8:15. Van came by ten minutes later. They embraced and sat down at the table I had encouraged Sharon to choose. I could not hear what they were saying, but it started out amicable. I could see them both
tensing up as I presume Sharon confronted him with the accusation of murder. Van jumped up from the table knocking over his coffee. His body language said denial, then anger, then what seemed like compromise. Sharon was crying and reaching out to him, but he pushed her away. They talked a little more than he jumped into his car and peeled away with a squeal of his brakes. Sharon put her head down on the table and wept. I waited to be sure that Van wasn’t coming back and then jogged out of the woods and turned off the camera.

  “How did it go?” I asked anxiously. “Did he confess?”

  Sharon nodded. “At first he denied it, but he eventually confessed. He said he’d just stopped by the school to see what Constance had actually heard that day at the Cheese Shop. When she told Van what she’d heard, he panicked. He claims he just blanked out and stabbed her. He grabbed her lunch bag thinking that her diary would be there. It wasn’t there that day, but he had no way of knowing that.”

  “Where do you think he went?”

  “I’m not sure, but he said he’d deny everything that he’d told me and that if I was planning on going to the police, he’d see me in hell. Nice guy. My guess is that he’ll take off somewhere or go into hiding with some of his old prison buddies. I can’t believe I fell for that jerk.”

  I checked the tape and was thrilled at the voice and picture quality. We got him! Plus, there was a diary somewhere that would very likely provide more evidence against Van. We needed to get the tape to the police. We decided to stick together until we turned the tape over to the police. When Sharon drove me back to the house, I spotted Trooper Pierce’s cruiser in front of the Post Office.

  “This is our lucky day, the police have come to us!” I exclaimed.

  We gave the trooper all the details along with the tape and said we didn’t know where Van was, but they might want to find him and bring him in for questioning. He gave us a look of disbelief, but got on the radio and got the word out. He said he’d be in touch and took off.