by Amy Lillard
Kappy didn’t have any idea what she was taking about, so she just nodded to be polite.
They got out of the car and went straightaway into the dirty white building that squatted between impossibly high stacks of crumpled cars.
“Looks more like a salvage yard than a body shop.”
Again, Kappy nodded for the sake of politeness.
Before they got to the door of the shop, a man wearing a frown and an oil-stained pair of coveralls came out. He had an unlit cigar in one corner of his mouth, and he squinted as if he was used to it smoking.
“Help you?” he asked. He switched the cigar from one side to the other without using his hands and looked at each of them in turn.
“Yes, we were wondering if you’ve had any cars of a particular model and color come in for repairs recently.”
His squint narrowed until Kappy could barely see his eyes. “You got a court order or a warrant?”
Edie took a step back. “N-no. We’re just asking out of curiosity and such.”
“I’m not answering any questions without a warrant.” He folded his arms across his barrel of a chest, the movement pulling on the sleeves of his coveralls and exposing forearms liberally decorated with fading tattoos.
“We’re not here to search the place.” Edie glanced toward Kappy. She could only shrug, then nod as if to say, “Go on.”
“What’s your purpose?”
“Uh . . . we . . . It’s just that . . .”
Kappy took a step forward. Her feet must have been propelled by God because she didn’t know what she was going to say until she opened her mouth and heard the words for the first time. “No purpose. A friend of ours feels one of her kids may have wrecked their car. Nothing big, just a couple of dents and a few scratches.”
His defensive pose softened a bit. “What does this have to do with me?”
“See, our friend thinks her daughter might have brought in the car and had it repaired without telling anyone in the family.”
He switched his cigar back to the original corner. “Yeah?”
“Young girl, long dark hair, dark-blue car. Little sedan.”
“They probably didn’t go through the insurance,” Edie added.
The man laughed. “Not many of my customers do, so that’s not a help.”
“Would have been last week,” Kappy said.
He shook his head. “Can’t remember anything like that. But if you want to leave me your card . . .”
“We don’t have a card,” Kappy said, a bit confused.
“The other cops had a card. They gave it to me first thing.”
“And did you let them in to look at your shop?” Edie jerked one thumb over her shoulder toward the long metal-sided building that sat behind the smaller one as well as the stacks of crumpled cars.
“Yep.”
“Can we go in?” Edie asked.
“You got a badge?”
“No, we don’t.”
The man shook his head and turned on one heel. “Then have a good day,” he said as he walked back into the office.
Kappy and Edie watched him go.
“That was useless,” Kappy said.
“Not entirely. We know that the police have been here, and they didn’t find anything.”
“That doesn’t mean a lot,” Kappy said. “I don’t like to talk bad about people, but . . .” She let her words trail off to nothing. She didn’t need to finish for Edie to understand her meaning.
“I know. He’s probably running a chop shop and knows what to hide and when to hide it.”
Chop shop. Kappy didn’t know how she came about the information but she knew what that was. “You don’t think that maybe the killer brought the car here to hide it?”
“Just hide it?”
Edie shook her head. “I was just speculating. Come on. Let’s go check with Pete’s shop. Maybe he’ll have better information.”
With one last look at the dusty, run-down shop, the pair got back into Edie’s car and headed across the valley to Pete’s Paint and Body.
In terms of inviting and clean, Pete’s was the complete opposite of Body by Black. Pete’s seemed to be a one-man show and everything was out in the open.
“That looks like an airplane hangar,” Edie whispered to her as they got out of the car.
Airplane hangar. Kappy had heard that term before, though she couldn’t recall ever seeing one herself. She would have to take Edie’s word for it. The building was tall, at least two stories, with a large pull-up door in the front that left the contents of the building in plain view.
Three cars were inside in various stages of restoration. One didn’t even have tires on it while another looked to her to be ready to drive away any moment.
“Can I help you?” A fifty-something-year-old man came out of the building to greet them. He wore coveralls like his across-town counterpart, but his were clean with only a couple of paint splatters to mar the fabric.
“Hi, my name is Edie Peachey, and this is my friend, Kappy King.”
“Pete Baldwin. Nice to meet you.” He shook hands with the both of them, patiently waiting for them to state the nature of their business.
Edie gave him the same story as Kappy had at Body by Black, including the part about no insurance and a girl with long dark hair.
Pete listened intently without a single disparaging look crossing his features. When she was finished, he nodded thoughtfully and stroked his chin.
“I can’t say that I’ve seen a car fitting that description. I mean, I’ve seen one. I even own one, but I haven’t had anyone bring one in for repairs.”
“You own one?” Edie pinned Kappy with one of her stares. The look might have been meaningful if Kappy knew what it meant.
“Yeah.”
“And it hasn’t had any problems?”
“Of course not.”
“Can we see it?” Edie asked.
Pete opened his mouth to answer. He closed it again and seemed to think about her question a bit more. Finally, he shrugged. “Why not? I don’t have anything to hide.”
Edie smiled. “Yes. That’s right.”
The man led the way to the personal garage that sat behind the house. Three vehicles were parked inside: a pickup truck, a shiny white sedan, and the blue car they had asked about.
Edie walked around the car looking at this and that while obviously trying to appear like she wasn’t looking at anything at all.
“Nice car,” she finally said.
“It belongs to my kids.”
Edie snapped to attention. “Really?”
“I have a boy and two girls. Well, only the oldest two drive.”
“And they share the car?” Edie asked. “That’s sweet.”
Kappy wasn’t sure what Edie meant by all that. The words sounded straightforward enough, and luckily, Pete didn’t seem to find them odd. If he did, he didn’t let on.
“Dad?”
They all turned as a young girl came into the garage. “Mom says you need to come into the house. Someone called. You have to call them back.”
Kappy’s heart gave a hard pound as she realized the girl had long dark hair, but she was small. And too young to drive. Kappy might not know much about Englisch customs and laws, but she didn’t need anyone to clarify this. Pete’s daughter was barely ten, if her guess was correct.
Pete patted at his pockets, then shook his head. “I guess I left my phone in the house.” He looked torn for a second. “Is that all you need?”
Edie nodded. “If you could just keep us in mind if anyone brings in a car like we described to be repaired.”
“Of course.” But Kappy didn’t think he had any intentions of thinking about them again after they walked out of his sight.
“Follow me.” He stepped from the garage, then shut the door as soon as everyone was back in the warm early-fall sunshine. The young girl skipped ahead, but looked as if she had no plans of going into the house. She stopped at the swing set/jungle gym combo s
et up in the yard and started to play.
Pete walked toward the house, clearly expecting them to leave.
Kappy and Edie followed behind him, their pace slowing with each step.
Edie shot her another look. Kappy just shrugged.
“Thank you for your time,” Edie said.
Pete stopped. “Say, have you talked to anyone at the high school?”
Edie shook her head. “Why would we do that?”
“If I had a car that needed body work and I didn’t have insurance, that would be the first place I would take it. The auto-body shop class is always looking for real cars to work on. And they wouldn’t charge anything to fix it, no insurance.”
Could it be that simple?
“Is that a fact?” Edie asked.
“Yeah, my boy even takes that class.” The pride in his voice swelled with each word. “Learned a lot there.”
“I’m sure he has,” Edie murmured.
“Is that him?” Kappy answered. She nodded toward the teenage boy striding across the lawn.
“Yeah. That’s my boy. Jeff.” He waited until his son drew near enough that he could sling one arm around the boy’s shoulders.
Actually, calling him a boy felt a little strange, even in her own thoughts. Jeff was as tall as his father, though not so big around. In a couple of years, he would fill out and be at least the same size if not bigger. Unlike his father and younger sister, Jeff had blond hair, the color of the wheat just before harvest.
“Mom says dinner is almost ready.”
Pete looked back at them with an apologetic twist of his lips. “We have a concert tonight, so we’ve got to get an early start.” He turned to his son. “Did you get all your homework done?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Jennifer?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I’m not my sister’s keeper.”
Pete frowned. “That’s one of the reasons why we put you two in the same classes. You have to help her.”
Something Kappy couldn’t readily name flashed in the boy’s eyes, then it was gone. Sibling rivalry? Resentment? Kappy wasn’t sure. It was there and gone too fast. But she could add, and Pete’s unequal treatment of his children summed it all up.
“Please go back in and help her. We have things to do, remember?”
He stalled.
“Jeff.”
“I’m going.” He turned on his heel, but looked none too happy about it as he stalked back to the house.
Pete cast them another apologetic glance. “It’s hard enough to have children, and then when they are so different . . .”
“I can only imagine,” Kappy murmured.
“What kind of concert?” Edie asked. It was a pitiful attempt to keep the man engaged in conversation, but it was all they had.
“Guitar. Jeff plays.” He shook his head. “It’s more than that. He’s a master. A prodigy, they said. All I know is it sounds like angels’ wings when he picks up an instrument.”
A father’s pride couldn’t be more apparent.
“Da-ad!” A loud screech came from the house and a blond-haired girl about seventeen stormed out. “Tell Jeff to get out of my room.”
“I told him to come help you.”
“I don’t want his help.”
Kappy inched a little closer to the car. This family seemed a little off. One child got all the pride and praise, while the other two seemed almost invisible.
The girl marched across the yard, her eyes blazing with each step. “I may be grounded, but that doesn’t mean I have to do what he says.”
Pete turned back to them, red rising up from under his collar to stain his cheeks. Kappy wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. “Twins,” he said sheepishly. “If you ladies will excuse me.” He nodded toward their car parked at the end of the driveway, a clear hint that their time was at an end.
Before either one of them could answer, he spun on his heel and herded his daughter back into the house.
Left with no other choice, Kappy and Edie turned to leave.
“Psst . . . hey.” The sound came from around the far side of the shop. The dark-haired daughter was motioning to them to come closer. Kappy was certain she was out of the sight of anyone in the house.
“What is it?”
“You want to know what’s going on, don’t you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You want to know about the car and the buggy wreck, right?”
Kappy nodded despite herself. What could a preteen know about buggy wrecks and the rest?
“We do,” Edie said. “We’re trying to help a friend.”
The girl waved away the words as if they were pesky flies. “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “If you really want to know what’s going on, go talk to Jonah Esh.”
Chapter 18
“It’s ridiculous,” Edie said as they drove to the bait shop to pick up Jimmy. They’d had the entire afternoon to scope out clues, and they’d come up with nothing.
“You think talking to Jonah is ridiculous?”
She shook her head. “I think trusting that a ten-year-old knows what’s going on when even the police don’t is.”
“In all fairness,” Kappy started, “she never said she knew what was going on, just that we should talk to Jonah Esh.”
“And how does she know that?”
“Exactly. How does she know who Jonah Esh even is?” She was an Englisch girl, a young Englisch girl. It wasn’t like she and Jonah hung out in similar groups.
“Maybe it’s true. Maybe he is hanging out with Englisch kids.”
“Who said that?” Edie asked.
“Mary Raber. I mean, she said she believed that Jonah Esh was dating an Englisch girl. And if the younger daughter gets carted around with the twins and their friends, there’s no telling what she might have heard.”
“Yeah, and there’s no telling what she might make up to get attention. You saw how her dad treated her. She was all but invisible.”
“I suppose.” Okay, it was true. Beyond true. One of the most accurate statements she had heard in a long time, but it didn’t really mean anything. “And she could be telling us this to get her brother into trouble.”
“Siblings.” Edie sighed.
“What do we do now?”
“I say we head over to pay a visit to the Eshes.”
* * *
Except they had to pick up Jimmy first.
“Yay!” He cheered and clapped his hands. “They have these little tiny pigs. Chris Esh was telling me about them at church.”
“Oh, yeah? Why didn’t you tell me about them?” Edie asked.
Jimmy frowned. “You’d just say no.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. I would love to take you over to see the pigs.”
“But I don’t just want to see the pigs; I want to own one.”
Edie was shaking her head before Jimmy even got the words out of his mouth. “Oh, no. No more animals, Jimmy. They’re too much to take care of.”
“Kappy and me do most of the work. And I love taking care of the animals. Please.”
“No.”
But Jimmy wasn’t about to give up. “I’ll pay for it myself.” “And how do you suppose to do that?”
“I have a job, you know.”
“I do.”
“And I’ve been saving my money.”
“To buy a skateboard.”
“Well, jah, but now I changed my mind. A pig would be so much more fun than a skateboard.”
“But skateboards don’t eat and demand attention.”
Kappy knew Edie was going to cave even before she did. She loved her brother even if she didn’t quite know what to do with him. And he could take care of the animals. Every time he got a new one he carefully named it. He logged it in his books and never forgot one. He was meticulous in business when it came to his stock, much better than his sister. And although Jimmy had a few mental challenges, he was still a savvy businessman.
“Ah, Edie
,” he groaned. Kappy had a feeling he would own a “little tiny pig” by the end of the week.
The Eshes lived on the same lane as Sundries and Sweets. Kappy couldn’t keep the thoughts of Hiram from leaping through her head as they drove past.
What was he doing? Had he heard from Willie? Should she tell him about the texts? She pushed that last thought away. She wasn’t going to tell him that. Edie suspected that it was Willie, but she had been known to be wrong.
“Look.” Jimmy grabbed the back of Kappy’s seat and pulled himself forward. “Did you see them?”
“See what?” Edie turned her car into the Esh driveway as she asked.
“The goats. They have baby goats.” He all but squealed.
Edie rolled her eyes and shut off the engine. “Jimmy—”
His attitude immediately deflated.
“We’re not getting a goat.”
“Jah, I know.”
They piled from the car, Jimmy’s attitude bouncing back the second he spotted Chris Esh over by the barn.
“Hey, Chris.” Jimmy waved and loped over to where the ten-year-old stood.
Kappy was certain there had never been a kinder soul than Chris Esh. He had been born with health problems, though with good doctors and a lot of prayers, he had made it through. But his illness-riddled infancy had left him smaller than his peers, pale and weak, with a bright smile that seemed to have captured the sun. It was as if God had saved all Chris’s energy and poured it into his smile.
She supposed with all the differences Jimmy had faced growing up, he felt a sort of kinship with Chris. And despite the nearly ten-year age difference between the two, they seemed the best of friends.
“I’m glad Chris treats him . . .” Edie shrugged.
Kappy looked over to where the two boys stood, laughing about something she didn’t hear. “I think Chris feels the same.”
“Kappy King, is that you?” Nancy Esh stepped out onto the porch. Kappy could only imagine what the woman was going through, losing her daughter only to have rumors about her son blazing through the district. Looking at her, one would never know. Her dress looked perfectly pressed, her apron without stains. She was barefoot, but her feet seemed unnaturally clean as if she stopped often to wash them. Prayer kapp carefully pinned and perfectly in place.