by Nancy Mehl
Levi’s mouth dropped open. “You and Gracie...”
“No, not us,” Sam said quickly. “Someone else. A long time ago.”
Levi wrapped up the remainder of his sandwich and pushed it to the side. “Listen, you two,” he said evenly, “whatever you say to me will stay right here. You have my word. Although I can’t imagine...”
“Jacob Glick didn’t leave town,” I blurted out. “He’s dead. And buried on my uncle’s property.”
Levi looked as if I’d just slapped him in the face. “Wha–what? What are you talking about?”
In slow, measured tones, Sam told Levi the whole story—everything that had happened since I’d arrived in Harmony. He carefully left out Sweetie and Emily’s involvement. Levi finally lost his shocked expression, but the gravity of our situation wasn’t lost on him.
“Goodness gracious,” he said finally. “All this time...” He shook his head. “Ben kept this secret all these years?”
I nodded. “Yes, but he was wrong about what happened. Someone besides my father killed Glick. We need to know who it was. You seem to be the only person left in Harmony who worked closely with him and Angstadt. And Sam said we could trust you to keep this quiet until we find the truth.”
“And if you don’t uncover the murderer?”
Sam and I looked at each other. “Then we call the authorities,” I said. “We can’t keep this buried the way my uncle did. It’s got to come out.”
Levi stared down at the table for several seconds. “Sorry. I’m trying to digest everything. It isn’t easy.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Sam said. “Can we ask you some questions about Glick?”
Levi nodded.
“What did you think of him?” I asked.
“He was a terrible man,” Levi said. “He and Bishop Angstadt were almost always together. I never could understand it. As an elder, I took my concerns about Jacob to the bishop on several occasions.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There were accusations about his behavior toward several young women. Yet every time I mentioned it to the bishop, he dismissed me, saying I had wrong information. Or he’d accuse me of spreading gossip. It was very frustrating.”
“You were aware of his inappropriateness with some of the women?” I asked. “Do you remember who he approached?”
Levi grunted. “Almost every female in town was bothered by that lecherous man. Didn’t matter how old they were, but he liked the young ladies best. Many of them too young, if you know what I mean. That man was shopping for a young wife.” He picked up his pop can and took a drink. Then he wiped his mouth. “I remember specifically his interest in your aunt, Sam. And Kendra McBroom. She left Harmony a long time ago.”
“What about Emily Mueller?” Sam asked.
Levi’s face went blank. “I—I don’t remember anything about that.” He frowned. “Emily was only a child when Jacob lived here. I would hope he never approached her.”
“What about the parents of these women?” Sam asked. “Did any of them know about Glick’s proclivities? Was there anyone you can think of who might have had a reason to kill him?”
Levi hesitated for a moment. “I’m really trying to remember, but it’s so long ago...”
“I know,” Sam said. “Take your time.”
Levi stroked his white beard and stared off into the distance. Finally, he shook his head. “I just don’t remember anything that will help you. The thing you must understand is that the bishop worked hard to protect Jacob—to keep him from suspicion.”
“Well, he didn’t succeed,” I said. “Someone killed him.”
“Give me some time to ponder on this. Maybe I’ll remember something helpful.” He folded his arms and looked at me. “You said he was killed on your property?”
I nodded. “Yes. Somewhere just inside the tree line.”
“Seems like a stupid thing for a man like Jacob to do,” Levi said. “Isolating himself. Standing out in the open with all those trees surrounding him. Anyone could have been hiding there, watching him. Waiting for a chance to get rid of him. You know, there was no love lost between that man and at least half of the folks in Harmony. When he disappeared all those years ago, I assumed his leaving was a result of his lechery. Guess I was right, but I just envisioned the wrong kind of departure.”
“Angstadt couldn’t protect him from everything,” I said. “Although I suspect he was relieved when he realized Glick was gone for good.”
Sam opened his mouth to say something but stopped when a commotion from Main Street caught our attention. A fire truck with a large tank in its bed bounced down the street while several men ran behind it. A couple of them grabbed the back of the truck and held on while the rest scrambled for their cars.
“What in the world...,” I said.
Levi jumped to his feet. “There’s a fire.”
Sam stood up, too. “Stay here, Grace,” he said.
As he and Levi sprinted toward their vehicles, I quickly gathered up the remnants of our abandoned supper and stuffed everything except the opened pop cans back in the sack.
“Sam, wait for me!” I yelled, running as fast as I could for the truck before he took off. I quickly threw the sticky pop cans in a nearby trash can.
Sam honked his horn impatiently before I reached the passenger door. “I want to help,” I said breathlessly as I climbed inside.
He just nodded and threw the truck into gear. We sped down the access road toward Main Street. As we neared Main, Sam slammed the brakes on at the sight of Abel Mueller waving him down.
Sam rolled down his window as Abel hurried up to us. “It’s Ben’s house,” he yelled. “Sweetie called it in.”
“My uncle’s house?” I said incredulously. A house that had stood for three generations was burning? How could that be?
“Thanks, Abel,” Sam said. “We need to get there as fast as we can.”
“Emily and I are coming in my car,” he said pointing to the church. His black car with its painted bumpers sat near the front door. Emily waited in the passenger seat.
Once again, Sam put the truck in gear and tried to navigate down Harmony’s main road. People ran out of their businesses, jumping into cars and buggies. It looked as if the whole town was turning out. I recognized many of them: Mr. Menlo, Amos Crandall from the clothing store, and Paul Bruner from the leather and feed store. Joe Loudermilk locked the door of his hardware store, ran down the street, and got into a car with Dale and Dan Scheidler from the farm implements store. Even John Keystone joined the frantic, disorganized race.
“I don’t understand how this could have happened,” I yelled to Sam, trying to be heard over the rattling of the truck on the uneven dirt road. “There isn’t any electricity in the house. Nothing to catch fire.”
Sam shook his head. “I checked everything the last time we were there,” he said loudly, trying to be heard while he kept his eyes on the road. So many people were pouring into Main Street we looked like part of a badly organized, last-minute parade. “The propane, the generator downstairs—everything was turned off. I have no idea what could have started it.”
“Is that tanker truck the only fire truck in Harmony?”
He nodded. “Sunrise has a volunteer fire department. They’ll come if we need them, but they’re ten miles from here.” He glanced over at me, his face tight with concern. “If the fire is spreading quickly, they won’t make it in time. We have fire hydrants in town, but none outside of town. This kind of fire is always a worry.”
I found myself praying that the house wouldn’t burn down. All I’d wanted to do when I got to Harmony was get rid of my uncle’s property. Now, only four days later, the prospect of losing the house where my family had lived all those years deeply saddened me. I tried to stop the tears that slid down my face, but I couldn’t. That house meant something to me now, and I didn’t want to see it destroyed.
It seemed like it took forever to get to Benjamin’s. We hadn’t even turned onto
Faith Road by the time the large plume of smoke was clearly visible above the tree line. When we finally pulled up, the little house was surrounded with vehicles and people. Several of the men from town were hauling a long yellow hose from the tanker truck.
“The truck only holds about three hundred gallons of water,” Sam shouted. “We’ll use that along with a bucket brigade from your well.”
As Sam parked the truck, I could finally see the fire. Flames danced from the corner of the house where the kitchen was located and licked up toward the roof. If the roof went, the house would most likely be gone.
I jumped down and followed Sam toward the people forming a line from an ancient metal water pump located about fifty yards behind the house. Ruth Crandall and Mary Whittenbauer ran toward the pump, carrying stacks of metal buckets. I was so shocked to see Mary that I froze in my tracks. Sam kept going. He quickly took his place in line, trying to stretch the line from the pump to the fire. I jogged up next to him, but was quickly pulled out of the line by Joyce Bechtold.
“Only men in the line!” she yelled at me. I started to protest, but she grabbed my shoulders. “The buckets are too heavy, Gracie,” she yelled. “You won’t be able to pass it without spilling it.” She pushed me toward a large truck that had a hand-painted sign attached to its side. It read HARMONY HARDWARE. “Here,” she said, handing me a stack of buckets from the back of the truck. “Carry these to the pump. That will be a big help.”
I took the stack from her hands and ran past the growing group of men that stretched from the pump almost to the house. As I set them down next to the water pump, I noticed a man frantically filling buckets and sending them down the line. I was shocked to see Gabriel Ketterling moving water through that old pump faster than it had probably ever flowed before. He glanced my way but didn’t acknowledge me at all. Without thinking, I reached out and put my hand on his arm. Startled, he gazed up at me, his face locked in his usual scowl.
“Thank you.”
For a few seconds, his expression softened and he gave me a brief nod. The he went back to his work. I ran back to the hardware truck. By now, several women were carrying buckets. I started to get another stack when Joyce grabbed me again.
“Stand at the end of the line,” she shouted. “When four buckets are empty, pick them up and run them back to the pump. Do you understand?”
“I nodded yes and took off toward the house. Water from the pumper truck was flowing freely on the fire, and the line from the pump was complete. I was shocked to see all the people who’d left their homes and businesses to help. Some I’d met. Most were strangers. Some wore clothing just like mine. Most wore plain clothing. All of them worked together as if they’d been doing this all their lives. Abel Mueller stood next to Marcus Jensen. Sam and Hector from the restaurant passed a huge bucket of water between them. A young man with Down syndrome moved the bucket down the line and turned to wait for the next one. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t care.”
“Quick,” a deep voice hollered. “Take these to the pump!”
I held out my hands for a stack of empty buckets and looked up into the soot-streaked face of John Keystone. His hair was wet and combed back from his face, and his usual smirk had been replaced with a frown. As I stared at him, a sudden revelation hit me so hard I almost stumbled as I ran back toward the pump. I remembered the odd sensation I’d had when I’d met him on Saturday. Now I knew where I’d seen him before. And the realization shocked me. I dropped off the buckets and ran back to the end of the line, passing Cora Crandall and Emily Mueller. They hurried toward the pump, their arms full of empty buckets, and their long skirts flapping against their legs. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have found it humorous.
As I reached the beginning of the line, I realized that the roaring flames were down to a flicker. Our efforts were paying off. My earlier tears of gratitude were turning into tears of relief. Between all the running, crying, and breathing in smoke, I was beginning to feel light-headed. By the time I got back to John, things around me began to spin.
I reached over to pick up the empty buckets stacked next to his feet when I felt myself sway. Strong arms reached out and caught me before I fell. I felt myself lowered to the ground.
“Take a big breath, Gracie,” a deep voice said. My eyes, which had closed for a moment to stop the world from turning around me, flew open. John was a few inches from my face. “Are you okay?”
“We need more buckets...”
He shook his head and smiled. “No. The fire’s under control. The pumper truck can finish the job. I think we need to get you into the shade.”
“I feel so foolish.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said brusquely. “You have nothing to feel foolish about.” He helped me to my feet, keeping his arm around me, and gently guided me over to a nearby tree where he helped me to sit down.
“Here’s some water, Gracie,” a soft feminine voice said.
Sarah Ketterling knelt next to me with a cup of water in her hands. Wondering where it had come from, I noticed Mary and Ruth filling Styrofoam cups from the restaurant with water from the pump. They handed them out to the tired and thirsty volunteers.
“Thank you.”
Sarah’s lovely eyes were full of concern. “Are you feeling any better?” she asked.
I nodded as I finished the water. “Yes. Guess I just got carried away a little. I had no idea I’d react this way about my uncle’s house.”
Sarah smiled at me. “You mean your house, don’t you?”
I started to protest, but as I gazed at the old house, I realized she was right. It was my house now. And I didn’t want it to burn down. “I—I guess you’re right.”
“Sometimes we don’t realize how much something means to us until we’re faced with losing it,” John said in a low voice. A look passed between him and Sarah that I didn’t know how to interpret.
Sarah’s pale face turned pink, and she rose to her feet. “I need to check on Father. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” With that she turned and walked away. John watched her for several seconds before he turned his attention back to me.
“If you’re feeling okay,” he said brusquely, “I’d better help the guys clean up the mess.”
“Yes, I’m fine. And thank you, John. Thank you so much.”
He raised an eyebrow, and his face took on the same expression I’d seen when I first met him. “I don’t know what it is about this town,” he said with an air of disgust. “It gets in your blood somehow. Even if you don’t want it to.” He shook his head. “Wish I could figure it out.”
With that he walked away, leaving me to ponder his words. I should have found them strange, but somehow I completely understood. I started to get up when a sharp voice startled me, and I sat back down with a thump.
“Well, there you are.” Sweetie stood in front of me in her ever-present overalls. Usually streaked with dirt from her orchards, this time soot decorated the old, worn denim. Streaks of black across her face told me she’d been pretty close to the fire. “I been lookin’ all over for you.”
At that moment Sam walked up next to her. His T-shirt clung to his chest and sweat dripped down his face. “It’s really not too bad, Grace,” he said. “The kitchen will have to be rebuilt, but the rest of the house is okay. A little smoke damage here and there. It will stink inside for a while, but it could have been far worse. Thank God it was called in before it got too bad.”
“Abel said you saw the fire and got help, Sweetie,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
She grinned widely. “Well, I called it in, girlie. But Ida alerted me to the fire. She saw it from her house and ran down the road to my place to tell me. She fell before she got there, but I spotted her layin’ on the road thrashin’ about. ’Course, by the time I got to her, I could see the smoke.”
“Is she okay?” My voice trembled with concern for my new friend.
“Sure, sure. She’s back at her place
restin’. I took care of her after I called the fire department in Sunrise and Joe Loudermilk. He contacted the rest of the men in our volunteer fire department. I told him to tell Ruth and Mary about the fire. I knowed those two women would alert the whole town. And they sure as shootin’ did.”
“But what about Gabriel Ketterling? No one called him.”
“Nope. He was just drivin’ by in his buggy and saw the flames. Him and Sarah pitched in right away.”
I shook my head slowly and struggled to my feet. “I can’t believe all these people turned out to help me,” I said. “If it hadn’t been for everyone here...”
“If it hadn’t been for Ida,” Sam interrupted. “This is a terrible time for your house to catch fire with everyone still in town or out in the fields. If she hadn’t seen the smoke, it probably would have burned to the ground before anyone had a chance to call for help.”