by Amy Lillard
“That is not true,” Kappy returned.
“Is so.”
Kappy couldn’t continue without outright calling Jimmy a liar, and she wasn’t up for that. She hadn’t even been looking at Silas that close, more interested in the pickles than anything else. And this, Kappy King, is why you will remain unmarried for the rest of your days.
She pushed that voice away and turned her attention to her food. By now the fried treats were cooling off a bit too much, and the grease was starting to make her feel a little sick to her stomach. It was that and nothing else. She was sure of it.
“What about you and Jack?”
Edie tossed the last piece of her pretzel onto the paper wrapper, then blew her bangs out of her face. “There is no me and Jack.”
And that seemed entirely impossible. Not so long ago, Kappy was certain that Jack and Edie would make the perfect pair, but now that the dust had cleared on Ruth’s murder, other crimes had pulled his attention away. Where they had been seeing Jack Jones every day, now they only saw him occasionally.
“But there could be.”
“Gross.” Jimmy tossed down the piece of chicken he had been eating and made a disgusted face at his sister.
“I hope you’re talking about the food,” Edie returned.
“Jack Jones?” Jimmy asked. “For real?”
“What’s the matter with Jack?”
Jimmy shook his head sadly, as if there were some things a person could explain, and yet others couldn’t be understood with mere words.
“Tell me, brother,” Edie said. “Why do you grin at the thought of Kappy with Silas Hershberger and make a face and call me and Jack Jones gross?”
Kappy shook her head. “I don’t know if you want the answer to that.”
Jimmy shrugged. “He’s Amish.”
“So if Jack were Amish—”
“May I be excused? I need to feed the ducks.”
Edie’s gaze dropped to her brother’s empty plate. “Yeah, sure.”
Jimmy nodded, put his dishes in the sink, and headed out back once again.
“I told you that you didn’t want to know the answer to that.”
“Oh, hush.” Edie sat back in her seat and nibbled on her fingernail.
“There are more fried . . . things, if you want them.”
“Is it such a bad thing?” she asked. “To want to be Englisch?”
Kappy shrugged and started gathering up the remainder of their food. As a young Amish girl, she had been taught to eat everything on her plate, but tonight she made an exception. There were only so many fried cheese pieces a person could have before it took its toll. “Is it so bad for him to want you to remain Amish?”
“I can’t remain Amish.”
“You know what I mean.”
Edie went back to chewing her thumbnail. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”
Kappy stacked the dishes in the sink and made her way back to the table. They could wait until they worked through whatever was bothering Edie. “What would be the worst thing that could happen if you stay here and rejoin the church?”
“I dunno.”
Kappy could almost see her brain working, searching for all the reasons why she shouldn’t come back, a reason for her to leave again. But after what seemed like a full five minutes, Edie shook her head. “Nothing, I don’t guess. I mean, I’ll be stuck doing the dishes by hand, reading by lamplight, and toting my clothes to the Laundromat each week.”
“There are worse things.”
“I guess,” Edie mumbled.
They sat in silence for a moment, then Edie swung her attention back to Kappy. “You and Silas Hershberger?” The grin on her face was a bit mischievous and way too knowing.
“Oh, Jimmy’s just telling tales.”
“Or he wants to get you away from Hiram.” Edie pulled a face.
“What’s wrong with Hiram?” Years had ingrained in her the habit of defending him. He was a businessman and fancy Amish, a black-topper. His family thought they ran the valley, and so on and so on.
“How much time do you have?”
“Seriously,” Kappy said. “Hiram is a great man. And he was a good husband. He’ll be a good husband again someday.”
“But not to you.” She was fishing, plain and simple.
“We may have cooled things off a bit.”
“I knew it.” Edie clapped her hands together and braced her elbows on the tabletop, leaning closer to Kappy as if they were about to share juicy secrets. “I thought the two of you had already set a date.”
“Where’d you hear that?” Kappy frowned.
Edie shrugged one shoulder, then tugged on the neckline of her blouse. “The Mennonites were doing laundry at the Coin and Suds.”
“So not only are you eavesdropping, you’re listening in on Mennonite conversations?”
“Is that somehow worse?”
“They never seem to get the story right when it involves Amish. Especially if it’s about the white-toppers.”
The white-toppers were the most conservative Amish in the valley. There wasn’t a great deal of difference between the black-toppers and the yellow-toppers. In fact, most people couldn’t tell them apart outside of their buggies, but the white-toppers were another matter altogether.
The men wore brown pants and coats and the women never wore bonnets. Kappy wasn’t sure what these details had to do with God and following the church, but somewhere along the way, they had decided this was the best way to go.
“It’s a good thing you’re not a white-topper then, huh?”
Kappy knew when she was beat. Edie was hanging on and wouldn’t let go until she got what she was after. “We’re taking it a little slower. A lot slower.”
“Then why has he been coming over so often?”
Kappy shrugged. “He’s worried about Willie, I guess.”
“He’s okay with these changes?”
“He’s let off a little since his brother went missing.”
“He’s not missing.”
“How do you know that?”
Edie shot her a look. “Did anyone think I was missing when I left?”
“Oh. Right.”
“I didn’t know Willie. He was little when I left, but from what I hear, he comes and goes on a regular basis.”
“Does that mean he really doesn’t want to leave but thinks he does?”
“It means it’s hard out there. When I left . . .” Her words trailed away to nothing. “Anyway, it takes a lot of commitment and stubbornness to make it out there. Whether Willie has that or not, I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
Kappy nodded. “That’s just the thing. He’s been gone for months before and this time he’s only been gone for days, and Hiram is so . . . worried. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Maybe he knows Willie means it this time.”
“I guess. But it’s not like he left a note or anything.”
Edie sighed. “I think this thing with Sally June has everyone stirred up. I mean, it’s bad enough by itself, but coming so soon after Mamm . . .”
The thought shot through Kappy like a fire arrow. “You don’t think . . .”
“That Willie killed Sally June? I have to admit the thought did cross my mind. But Mr. Text said he saw a woman driving.”
“Mr. Text?”
“That’s what I’ve decided to call him.”
“What if . . . Mr. Text is trying to throw us off the trail?”
“Really? Kappy, think about what you’re saying. That would mean he got my number and a phone and started texting me, knowing we were going to look into this.” She shook her head. “That’s too far-fetched even for me.”
“Whew.” Kappy let out a long sigh. “I didn’t want Willie to have any part of this.”
“I didn’t say he was innocent, just that Mr. Text isn’t lying to us.”
“How do you know that? And how did he know that we would start wondering about the truth?”
“Gut feeling and I don’t
know. Maybe he knows us?”
“Do you think he’s Englisch or Amish?”
Edie seemed to think about it a moment. “Amish.”
“With a cell phone?”
“Maybe he’s running around?”
“Maybe,” Kappy muttered.
They sat in silence for a moment, each one mulling over the possibilities.
“Why would an Amish teen get a cell phone and text you about a possible murder?”
“Why does anybody do anything?”
Kappy wasn’t sure what that meant, but with the way Edie’s mouth turned down at the corners, she wasn’t about to ask. “Amish or ex-Amish?”
“No idea.”
“Do you think it could be Willie?”
“We could ask him, but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell us the truth.”
The thought of Willie out there, driving around in a blue car, texting them because he was scared, was almost more than she could stand. He was just so young. And she surely didn’t want to bring up the possibility of his guilt in front of Hiram; he was worried enough already. “We don’t even know it’s a man . . . or boy.”
“True dat.”
“Don’t say that.”
Kappy laughed, but the sound seemed too loud in the small kitchen.
“I guess this means we can’t pass this off as mere coincidence.”
“I guess not,” Kappy agreed.
“And I suppose you want to help Hiram find out if Willie is okay? Or involved?”
“He is my friend.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Friends should help each other.”
“I know that, too.”
Kappy smiled at her. “Does this mean that you are going to help me?”
“I suppose.” Edie rolled her eyes.
“Does this mean we’re friends?”
Edie grinned. “You know it.”
“Does this mean you’re staying?”
She nodded. “For a time.”
That was all Kappy needed. A couple of weeks to convince Edie to stay in Blue Sky permanently. Either with the church or as an Englischer. Kappy knew this was Edie’s home. Even if Edie didn’t.
Chapter 8
“I got another one.” Edie pushed past Kappy and into the house just after breakfast on Monday morning. “Look at this.”
Edie thrust the phone toward Kappy, giving her no choice but to accept it or let it drop.
“There’s nothing on here.” Kappy held the phone where Edie could see.
“Honestly,” Edie grumbled. She took the phone, tapped the screen a few times, then handed it back to Kappy. “I really need to teach you how to use this phone.”
“Cell phones are strange.”
“Right. Now look at it before it goes to sleep again.”
Goes to sleep? Kappy shook her head, then did as Edie commanded.
Beware! Things are not as they seem. I had to leave this time. I didn’t want to. But I know you will help me.
She read it a second time. Then again, but it still didn’t make a great deal of sense to her.
“Do you know what this means?”
Kappy handed the phone back to Edie. “Actually, no.”
“It means we’re being watched. Sally June’s death wasn’t an accident. And the texter really is Willie.”
Kappy snatched the phone back, pressed her thumb to the screen, and re-reread the message. “How did you get all that from here?”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.”
“I get to be Sherlock Holmes?”
Edie took a step back in surprise. “You know Sherlock Holmes?” She gave Kappy a sly look. “Well, well, well, aren’t you full of surprises.”
Kappy shrugged.
“No. Seriously,” Edie said. “I’m sure old Bishop Sam doesn’t have Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on his approved reading list.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Kappy hedged.
“Maybe not.” Edie laughed.
“Jah, okay. I might not have asked him if I could read it. But I’ve never heard him say that I couldn’t.”
Edie clapped her on the shoulder. “You’re a sneaky one, Kappy King.”
“Does that mean I get to be Sherlock?”
“We’ll see.”
“Are you going to tell me what the text means?”
“Elemen—I mean, it’s simple, really. He tells us to beware, which means we have to be in some sort of danger.”
“Or someone could be following us.”
“Doubtful. He tells us that things aren’t what they seem, which means the accident wasn’t really an accident. He also says ‘this time,’ which means he’s left before. And that means he’s Willie.”
Maybe Edie would get to be Sherlock. Unless . . . “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Kappy mulled it over. “If you’re right, then we should ask around. Someone had to have seen something.”
“They did,” Edie said. “Willie Lapp saw something and now he’s in hiding.”
Kappy shook her head. “You’ve seen the cemetery. It’s right across the street from the site of the accident. Do you really think that someone could purposefully run a buggy off the road and not be seen? It’s the busiest road in the valley. And you and I both know that someone had to be in the cemetery.”
“There’s always someone in the cemetery,” Edie agreed.
“Now all we have to do is find them and see what they saw.”
“Don’t you mean if they saw something?”
Kappy grinned. “I’m trying to remain positive.”
“Positive it is,” Edie said with a nod. “Okay, Miss Positive, what are we going to do? Go door-to-door and ask if someone saw anything?”
“As far as I can see, that’s our only choice.”
“Great.” Edie’s tone sounded anything but excited.
“Where’s Jimmy?” Kappy asked, reaching for her bonnet.
“Home.”
“Should we get him first?”
Edie nodded. “Probably. Plus, it’ll do him good to get out of the house.”
“Isn’t that why you made him take a part-time job?”
“Partly.” Edie followed her down the porch steps and into the yard. “We’ll take my car up to get him, sound good?”
Kappy moved past her in the opposite direction. “We can’t take your car to go door-to-door asking if people saw anything that day.”
Edie stopped even as Kappy continued to the barn to retrieve her mare. “Why not? We’ve been driving it all over the place.”
“Not for something like this.”
“I beg to differ.” Edie held up one finger as if to make her point, but Kappy ducked into the barn. They had to take the buggy. Kappy wasn’t sure how much of Edie’s driving she could take. “We went to a bunch of houses after Mamm . . . died and we were in the car then.”
Kappy came out of the barn, leading June Bug by her halter. “And look at how far it got us. They would barely talk to us.” She offered the reins to Edie, who refused to take them.
“They would barely talk to us because you are shunned.”
“Exactly the reason why I shouldn’t be riding around in a buggy. Besides, you aren’t exactly the most popular girl in the valley.”
The words shouldn’t have stung but they did. “The fresh air will do you some good.” She shook the reins at Edie. “Either take the reins or get the buggy out of the carriage house.”
Not having a further argument, Edie sighed and took the leather straps.
Kappy made her way into the carriage house and backed the buggy out into the yard. Edie frowned but handed her the reins so she could hitch up the horse.
“I should just go get Jimmy in my car. You could follow me up. That way I can leave my car at my house.”
“Nuh-uh,” Kappy said. “I don’t trust you to start running all over the valley without me.”
Edie’s eyes narrowed and for a moment she looked almost. . . hurt. “Whatever.”
Kappy hopped inside and pulled the reins through the front window. She did her best to hide her victorious grin. “Come on.” She hooked one arm toward Edie. “We’ve got a mystery to solve.”
* * *
“I still don’t understand why we’re going back to the cemetery again,” Edie grumbled under her breath.
But from his place in the back seat, Jimmy still heard. “To see Mamm’s grave. Right, Kappy?”
“That’s right.” She secured the reins and hopped down.
“Why don’t you go on over there? Your sister and I are right behind you.”
“Okay.” Jimmy jumped down and started for the place where they had laid Ruth Peachey to rest. He turned around and continued to walk backward. “Just don’t take long, okay?”
Edie waved. “Okay.”
Satisfied, Jimmy faced front and concentrated on counting the rows of graves.
“We’re here to get the lay of the land.” Kappy crossed her arms and turned completely to the left. “See Minnie Peight’s house over there?” She pointed to a house on the incline of Stone Mountain and partially hidden by trees.
“Yeah.”
“She’s too far away to have seen much, plus those trees are blocking her view. But that house there—” She pointed to the house that sat halfway between Minnie’s house and the road. “They have a much better view.”
“An Englischer lives there. I told you we should have brought the car.”
“Hush that.” Kappy turned a bit more, scanning the roadside. “Lorna may have seen something.” She pointed toward the house on the other side of the cemetery.
“See! There’s a truck in that driveway, too.”
“Mennonite.”
Edie let out a low growl.
Kappy ignored her and started walking toward the back of the cemetery, farthest from the road.
“Where are you going?” Edie stumbled after her, her flip-flops smacking against her heels as she tried to keep up with Kappy’s purposeful strides.
Kappy marched toward the mountain until she came to the last grave. She turned around, then scanned the scene once again. “Anyone in the cemetery could have seen it.”
“Yeah,” Edie agreed. “If they were here, at that exact moment in time.”
“Anyone could have been here,” Kappy murmured, scanning from side to side again. “As long as they have a loved one buried here. Come on.” She started back toward the road and the buggy.