Murder, Simply Stitched: An Amish Quilt Shop Mystery

by Isabella Alan

  “Maybe he’s not ready yet.”

  “That is the Englisch answer to say that you are not ready for marriage. He claims he doesn’t have time for marriage and family yet. He wants to make his living first. If our father could hear that he would roll over in his grave because that is such an Englisch thing to say. It would upset Daed if he knew. I need to remind Linus not to worry, and Gott will provide for all of us in His own gut time.” She looked me up and down. “You are a pretty girl, even if you are Englisch. Why aren’t you married?”

  I suppressed a grimace. “I guess I’m not ready yet, and I haven’t met the right guy.” I didn’t add that I’d thought Ryan had been that guy for almost a decade.

  She tapped a finger to her cheek in thought. “You will in time. The sheriff is a very nice-looking man, and he appears to enjoy talking to you.”

  I looked heavenward. I didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Did everyone notice every glance that passed between Mitchell and me? I was beginning to wonder if watching our nonexistent romance was a new Rolling Brook pastime. I could see the Amish sitting around Miller’s Amish Bakery sharing tales about Mitchell and me even if some of them were grossly exaggerated. We were supposed to be talking about the CPA’s office, not my love life.

  “Have there been accidents at the auction before?” I asked.

  “Oh, I don’t really know. I’m sure there have been. Any place that has that many visitors is bound to have a mishap or two, but nothing like what happened to Wanda.” She lowered her voice. “I have heard the police suspect the Millers because of the factory they would like to build down the street.”

  I shifted from foot to foot. “They aren’t official suspects,” I said, knowing nothing of the kind. “What do the Amish business owners on the street think about the factory?”

  She shrugged. “It will cause noise and traffic, but we are not ones to meddle in others’ business. If Aaron Miller’s bishop said it was all right to build the factory, then it is not my place to tell him otherwise.”

  “Did Aaron’s bishop approve the plans?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess that he did. Aaron is such an honest man. He would be the last person who would break the district rules, but I do not know. I am from a different church district. There are many in Holmes County.”

  It would be easy enough to find that out. I would ask Mattie.

  Fannie felt Aaron was the last person who would break district rule, but would he be the last one she would suspect of murder?

  She removed the notepad from her apron and double-checked the figures. “I will begin with two sweaters for Oliver: one blue and one red and green for Christmas. I may even knit a reindeer on the Christmas sweater.”

  Oliver whimpered. Even dogs didn’t like Christmas sweaters.

  I wrinkled my brow. “That doesn’t sound very Amish.”

  “He’s not an Amish dog, and I do love to knit Englisch designs. This will give me a chance to do it.”

  I laughed. “If you won’t let me pay you for your work, at least let me repay you with a gift from my shop. Stop by sometime, and pick out the fabric for a quilt. I would love to make you one. It can be our quilting circle’s next project.”

  She smiled. “I suppose that will be all right. I’m so happy you took over the shop for Eleanor. She would be very proud of you.”

  I knew that Aunt Eleanor would be proud of me about the quilt shop, but how would she feel about the snooping. I smiled to myself, because the Aunt Eleanor I knew and loved would have been there right along with me. I wished she were.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Oliver and I walked back to Running Stitch lost in thought as the shops around us wound down for the day. I considered everything I had learned since the quilting class that morning, and I believed Oliver daydreamed about his winter wardrobe.

  We stepped through the door of my shop to find Anna and Sarah with Mattie inside.

  Oliver went off to look for Dodger.

  I knit my eyebrows together. “Were we supposed to have a quilting circle meeting today?”

  Anna laughed. “Can’t we visit anytime, Angie?”

  I removed my jacket and hung it on the peg. “Of course you don’t need a reason.” I turned to see them all staring at me expectantly. “But you look like you have a reason.”

  Mattie nodded. “You are going to the township meeting tonight, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Anna cleaned her glasses on the hem of her apron before setting them back on her nose. “Then you need to be ready to talk those trustees out of vetoing Aaron’s factory.”

  I had studied the binder the night before. The building ordinances and rules swam in my head. “I’ll try. You know I will, but there were so many rules to remember.”

  Sarah grinned. “That’s why we are here. We are going to help you.”

  “We’re having a cram session,” Anna said. “So you are ready for the meeting. It’s at seven o’clock sharp.”

  I arched my brow. “A cram session?”

  She grinned. “I heard an Englisch teenager say that while he studied with friends at the Millersburg Library. I quite like the phrase.”

  Sarah beamed. “I have already fed my family. My husband likes to eat early anyway after a long day working on baling hay. I brought dinner for us to share.” She pointed to the large basket beside the registers. “You aren’t going to have time to go home before the meeting, Angie. There is too much to learn.”

  I stared at them. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

  Mattie beamed. “By the time you leave for the meeting tonight, you will know those building codes inside and out.”

  Just then I noticed Willow’s binder of rules in the middle of the cutting table and four chairs circling the table. Sarah picked up the basket and moved it to the cutting-cum-dining table.

  “This really is amazing. Thank you,” I said.

  “Don’t thank us yet,” Anna said. “We have a lot of studying to do in a short amount of time.”

  Anna eyed the larger of the two baskets. “What do you have in there?”

  “Chicken and dumplings and bread pudding for dessert.” She removed a large white dish from the basket.

  Oliver wagged his stub of a tail and circled Sarah. My stomach growled.

  “You want some too, Oliver?” Sarah asked.

  Oliver woofed and circled my feet. He knew who he had to win over. Smelling the chicken, Dodger was on his heels and meowing.

  “You can have some too, you old beggar,” Anna said. “Angie, I think this dog can understand what we are saying.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” I smiled. “Thank you so much for dinner, Sarah. I’m starving, and I’m glad you ladies will help me eat it. If you weren’t I’d probably eat all of it, and I need to get back into shape.”

  “What kind of shape?” Anna asked as she sat at the table.

  “A less round shape. I’ve gained six pounds in two months.”

  “It looks good on you. You were too thin when you moved here,” Sarah said. “I know being rail thin is the popular look for Englisch women, but it is not healthy nor is it good to worry about your appearance so much.”

  Mattie smiled. “I’m happy to help, Angie. I am hungry.”

  I grinned. “Excellent.”

  After the blessing, Anna pulled the binder into her lap and opened it. “I will separate the building section into four parts. Let’s each read a portion, and then we can discuss it. Since the building codes are over one hundred and fifty pages, I think this is the only way to finish all of it before the meeting.” She handed me a stack of pages.

  I started reading and eating. The eating was the fun part. The room was silent for the moment. The only sounds that could be heard were Dodger and Oliver chewing the scraps Sarah gave them.

  I flipped the page. “This is delicious, Sarah. Thank you again for dinner.”

  She blinked at me from over her pages and smiled. “It was no t
rouble. When I told my husband where I was going and why he said it was a gut thing for you to have a good hot meal before the meeting. He is not going tonight, but he has been before. He says they are long, tense, and boring all at the same time.”

  Sounded great.

  She dropped her eyes. “And I may have told my husband you didn’t know how to cook, and I had to come here to make sure you got a hot meal.”

  “I can cook. I love cooking.”

  “I know, but it is better for my husband if he thinks I am doing some type of good deed.”

  “This is a good deed,” Mattie said.

  “Did your husband believe that I didn’t know how to cook?” I asked.

  “Ya. You’re Englisch. Jeremiah believes all Englisch women are helpless in the kitchen.” She sipped her water and concentrated on her papers again.

  I rolled my eyes. “Mattie, will Aaron and Rachel be wondering where you are?”

  “Nee. My bruder won’t worry. I’ve walked home much later than this after work. He will think that I stopped at that library on the way home like I do many nights.” She blushed. “And with the meeting coming up tonight he won’t be concerned about me at all. He is very anxious about it.”

  “For gut reason,” Anna said. “I haven’t found anything here yet that will help us.” She set half of her stack of papers on the floor next to her. Having finished his meal, Dodger walked over to the papers and lay on them. “I will run you home in my buggy when we are done,” Anna told Mattie.

  “Danki, Anna.” She cut into her dumpling.

  I blinked as I stared at the page in front of me. “This might be it. I think I found it: a loophole to save Aaron’s factory. I can’t believe I missed it before!” I jumped off of my chair and told them how we, not just me, may have saved Aaron Miller’s dream.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  At six o’clock, the quilting circle’s first-ever cram session ended. We each checked and double-checked to see if I was right about how to save Aaron’s pie factory idea. Sarah, Anna, and Mattie left in buggies, and I left in my little SUV primed and ready for this meeting. Willow’s copy of the ordinances sat next to me on the passenger seat of my car.

  I stopped at home on the way to the Mennonite meetinghouse only long enough to drop off Oliver and Dodger. I needed my wits about me for this meeting and not the extra distraction of my cat and dog running loose through the church. I didn’t think Head Trustee Farley Jung would look too kindly on that. I didn’t want to do anything that might hurt our chances.

  Satiated with more chicken and dumplings than they should have had, both animals waddled through the front door without protest and collapsed together on Oliver’s dog bed.

  “Diet starts tomorrow for the whole family,” I promised them before running out the door.

  At six thirty, I arrived at the meetinghouse, which was a church on a hill overlooking Sugartree Street. The stark white church sat on a hill with only rolling hillside and trees surrounding it. It looked like a postcard.

  I thought I would arrive in plenty of time to get the lay of the land before too many people showed. I was wrong. The parking lot was packed with automobiles and Amish buggies. Apparently, the township trustee meeting was a major event in Rolling Brook.

  I noticed the sheriff’s SUV right away next to the meetinghouse door. I twisted my mouth, wondering if he’d heard through the Amish telegraph or simply the English cell phone tour how many questions I had asked about Wanda today after he forbade me to meddle. Not that I paid much attention to what he’d said, but I’d prefer not to have him call me out on it.

  The township trustees met in the basement of the Mennonite church, and the line to enter the church progressed slowly. Head Trustee Farley Jung stood at the doors and seemed to see the line of township citizens as his personal receiving line.

  As I waited, I scanned the parking lot for Rachel and Aaron. I recognized their brown buggy horse tethered to the hitching post closest to the door. They must have arrived especially early to snag that spot. My stomach twisted into a ball of knots for them. Tonight’s meeting would determine if they would be able to build the pie factory on the land they purchased. If the trustees ruled against them, they could be financially ruined. I prayed I was right about what I learned from the township ordinances. I may think I knew all the building rules, but Farley would have them memorized.

  Farley shook the hand of an Amish man in front of me. “Samuel, good to see you. How are your fields?”

  The man mumbled something back.

  I suspect Farley knew as much about farming as I did, which summed up that plants need water and sunshine to survive. After that, I had nothing.

  I shuffled forward. Samuel stopped to chat with another Amish man, effectively trapping me right next to Farley.

  His lips curled into an oily smile. The man should really get a mustache. I’d bet he would be an expert mustache twirler. “Angie, I’m so happy you came.” He squeezed my upper arm again, and I shifted away from him.

  “Thank you,” I said maneuvering out of his grasp. When I did, I accidentally elbowed the man beside me in the ribs.

  “Oph!” he grunted.

  “I’m so sorry.” I looked up to see that I was staring into Linus Raber’s clean-shaven face.

  Linus’s face broke into a smile. “It is quite all right. There was no harm done, and we are packed in here tightly.”

  “The fellowship hall will be plenty big enough for everyone. However, this turnout is most surprising,” Farley said.

  I pivoted my attention back to Farley. “You don’t usually get this many?”

  “They must be here because of the Millers’ proposal.” He smiled.

  I wanted to ask him what he meant by that. I could understand why so many business owners on Sugartree Street might be interested, but the whole community? What was in it for them?

  “Excuse me,” an Englishman said behind me. “Let’s keep moving.”

  I couldn’t agree more. Samuel and his friend went inside the church.

  “We will talk later, Angie,” Farley promised as I stepped over the threshold. I took it as a threat.

  Linus chuckled. “You appear relieved to be away from him.”

  I grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Ya.”

  “I shouldn’t begrudge him so much. He does a lot for the township.” I followed the line of people to the stairwell.

  Linus nodded. “It’s hard to do any business in Rolling Brook without his blessing. He has a lot of pull with the Englisch in the community, and since the Englisch are the only ones willing to serve on the board in the township, they make all the decisions.”

  “None of the Amish will do it?”

  “There are some Amish in small offices in the county. There’s an Amish man serving on the school board in Charm, and there is an Amish community leader in Berlin. However, it’s rare, rare even for Holmes County, where the Amish outnumber the Englischers.”

  I just missed stepping on someone’s foot. If I had the room, I would remove my jacket. It was stifling in the stairwell, waiting for people to move. “So how do the Amish make their wishes known?”

  “They will speak up at meetings like this if necessary, but most of the time they have to trust their Englisch friends will remember them with each important vote.”

  Another thought struck me. “I didn’t realize Fannie from the yarn shop was your sister. I hope Wanda’s death doesn’t have too much an impact on your business.”

  His jaw hardened. “Why would it do that?”

  In the close stairwell, I couldn’t escape the sudden flash of anger on his face. “Because she rented space in your building. Your sister told me all about it.”

  “David is still there. I don’t believe he plans to leave. I know he won’t leave until his lease is up, and he has another year on that. It’s unfortunate about what happened, and I am sad for her family and friends. It doesn’t have a direct impact on me.”

  �
��It does on Reed and he works with you at the auction.”

  “Reed is a gut kid. He talks back some, but no worse than I heard any other teenage boy, Englisch or Amish. He works for Gideon. At the auction yard, we all work for Gideon.” He shrugged. “Reed is not my problem either.”

  “Were you surprised when Gideon hired him?”

  “Should I have been?”

  “He’s the only non-Amish working on the place, and he is Wanda’s nephew.” I let my last statement hang.

  “He’s good with horses and animals. The Amish don’t discriminate against the Englisch by not offering them work.”

  “Excuse me,” a heavyset woman said as she wove awkwardly around us. People squeezed by as they made their way to the meeting. I hadn’t realized there was no one in front of us blocking the way into the basement any longer, so I started moving down the steps.

  Linus was behind me. I felt his breath on my neck as his spoke. “My advice to you is to stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong or you will regret it.”

  I spun around to say something in return, but all I saw were the townsfolk making their way down the stairs, and Linus’s back receding as he forced his way back up the steps.

  “Keep moving,” the man behind me said.

  I gave him a dirty look before making my way down the last few steps.

  The stairwell opened into a large room with a linoleum floor and basketball hoops on either end. I could imagine the children of the church, squeaky sneakers running back and forth across the room. A hundred gray folding chairs filled the room. Half of them were full. There was still plenty of seating. Behind the far basketball hoop was a stage with cafeteria-length folding tables standing end to end on the raised platform. A navy cloth covered their length. A nameplate for each of the township trustees sat in front of their empty places, even in front of Wanda’s place.

  Finally, I spotted Rachel and Aaron near the front of the room, seated with a group of Amish. I hesitated as I considered whether or not I should sit with them. In the end, I took a spot in the back. I didn’t know how Aaron would react to me being there.