“Will the bishop agree?” I asked.
She frowned at her knitting and undid the stitch she’d just added. From where I sat, the stitch appeared fine to me, but my grandmother was a perfectionist when it came to her knitting. I couldn’t argue against it. I was the same about my chocolates. “I’m afraid he will. The bishop of Charlotte’s district is very tired, and he is happy that Abram Clapp is young and willing to take over most of the work of running the district.”
“What is Charlotte going to do? Will she go back?” I asked.
Maami shook her head. “She hasn’t decided yet. We prayed that the Lord would give her clarity.”
“Will you get in trouble for helping her?” I couldn’t keep the worry from my voice.
She pushed the yarn farther down her needles with her fingertips, which were calloused from a lifetime of washing dishes by hand and making candy. “I do not belong to that district of Amish any longer. They have no hold over me. I am grateful that my church leaders are more understanding.”
I smiled at her, hoping to lighten the mood. “Even Deacon Yoder’s wife?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes over her knitting. “Even Ruth Yoder is better than Deacon Clapp.”
Since I knew how much my grandmother disliked Ruth Yoder, that was saying a lot.
“Maami,” I said tentatively, “you seem happier.”
She looked up. “Do I?”
I nodded.
“I am happy to help my cousin,” she said and set her knitting in her lap. “The girl needs me right now.”
I stared at my hands for a moment. “Is that what you miss most about Daadi, helping him?”
“There is so much I miss about your grandfather, it would be impossible to recount it all, but yes, I miss helping him, working with him, and being at his side. Your grandfather and I were partners—helpmates, as it says in the Bible. I took care of him, and he took care of me. There was never any decision that we didn’t consult with each other about. I miss that. I suppose I miss caring for someone as much as I miss being cared for.”
“You take care of me,” I said. “And I can take care of you.”
She shook her head sadly. “Bailey, dear, no one takes care of you but you. It’s all that you allow. I know this. You have been this way since you were a child.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she was faster. “This is not a criticism, my child. It is the way Gott made you, but I need to care for someone. Charlotte needs me now. Gott has brought us together to comfort each other. Gott willed it that my Jebidiah would venture onto his great reward before me. His will be done, not mine. Gott has let me remain here, but my gut work for Him on this earth is not yet complete. With Charlotte, Gott is reminding me there is more to be done.”
“I wish I could be so sure of God’s will,” I murmured.
She studied me over her glasses. “You could.”
I didn’t know if that was true, and that uncertainty was at the heart of my problem.
Chapter 34
I told my grandmother that I was going to go for a walk and asked her not to wait dinner for me. I needed to leave Swissmen Sweets and clear my head. Confusion about the murder and about my place in Holmes County plagued my mind. I wondered if giving up my life in New York had been the right choice after all. It seemed that I wasn’t able to help my grandmother the way I had wanted to. Charlotte, in her vulnerability, could help her where I, in my strength, could not. Ironically, that made me feel vulnerable.
I walked down Main Street to the corner of Apple and turned right so that I was walking away from Ruby’s apartment and around the outside of the square. I passed the dark windows of the cheese shop, a quilt shop, and a woodworker as I circumnavigated the square. I walked past the church then, and I gravitated to the small, now abandoned playground next to the it. One of the swings gently rocked back and forth in the cold breeze. I wrapped my scarf more tightly around my neck and tucked it into my coat.
The money that the ACC had raised would make the dilapidated playground a showpiece of the village. It was past due for a makeover, but a little part of me would be sad when the swing set that I had played on as a child was replaced by something that was newer and safer and much more colorful than that plain metal contraption.
I sat on the swing that had been my favorite as a little girl and kicked off the ground with my boots. My toes dug trenches into the mulch as I pushed off, just as they had when I was child. I almost expected to see my footprints from two decades ago imprinted in the earth. I knew that they had to be there somewhere. I had spent so much time on that swing set as a young girl.
As my swing rocked back and forth, I felt the tension begin to leave my body. I tried to remember the last time I had been on a swing set. Had I ever taken the time to do such a thing when I lived in New York? It wasn’t something I would have had the time for or made the time for.
A laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t help it. I had never felt this light and free in New York. Despite the challenges of living in Harvest and the dead bodies, it was where I belonged. Finally, I was in the right spot. The only thing that could make the moment better was to look down and see my grandfather below me—to see him there and to be able to tell him that I was staying in Harvest for good to fulfill his legacy.
I looked down then, half expecting to find him standing there, even though I knew that was impossible. Instead, another man approached the swing in the twilight, but it was not my grandfather. I let my toes catch at the mulch under my feet to slow my pace. Back and forth, back and forth, I slowed. Finally, I planted my feet firmly in the mulch and brought myself to a jerky halt. By that time, Sheriff Deputy Aiden Body was standing directly in front of me.
“That looks like fun,” Aiden said.
My heart thundered in my chest. I told myself it was because of the exertion from the swing. I told myself that it had nothing to do with the handsome man standing a few feet from me.
The swing twisted as I shifted my feet for a better grasp on the slippery mulch, and I yelped, nearly falling off it.
Aiden grabbed the swing’s chains on either side of me to straighten me out. Even when the swing was perfectly still, he kept a firm grip on the chains.
“Where did you come from?” I asked in a more accusatory tone than I intended. As happy as I was to see him, I didn’t want him to know he had any effect on me. At a time like this, when I felt trapped, the cagey New Yorker I had been for most of my adult life came out.
He smiled a slow smile but still did not release my swing’s chains. I thought about climbing off the back of the swing, but quickly dismissed that idea. Knowing my luck, I would fall into the mulch in an unattractive heap, and my foot would become entangled in the swing in the process.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.
I took a breath. “I was out for a walk, trying to work out the case in my head, and I’ve been looking for Jethro.”
“I was doing the same.” He flashed his dimple. “It seems you and I have a lot in common, Bailey King.”
I wasn’t going anywhere near that comment. “How’s your mom?” I asked. “I’m so sorry that Jethro’s still missing.”
The dimple disappeared. “She’s hanging in there.”
“He’ll turn up.”
He frowned as if he wasn’t so sure about that. I wasn’t so sure about it either. Neither of us voiced that concern though.
“Charlotte is staying at Swissmen Sweets at least for the foreseeable future.” He said this as a statement, not a question.
“Umm,” I said.
“You don’t need to hide it. I was just at the candy shop, and your grandmother told me. I know that Charlotte’s left her Amish district, and you and Clara gave her a place to stay as she finds a new way to live. That’s very kind of both of you,” he said.
“You went to the shop looking for Charlotte again, or you had a sudden need for fudge?” I asked, wishing that he would let go of the chain and back up. He was too close.
> He shook his head. “I needed to talk to you. Clara told me you were out looking for Jethro.”
“Ahh,” I said because saying anything cleverer was next to impossible, considering his proximity.
“I wanted to be the one to tell you that your candy didn’t kill Josephine,” he said, distracting me for a moment because of how close he was to me.
I pressed the soles of my boots into the mulch. “You were right about it not being something she ate?”
He nodded. “But it was something she ingested. The coroner finished the toxicology report just a little while ago and gave me a call. From what he can tell, she drank licorice extract. She must have died quickly. Her body didn’t even have to digest it before she had an allergic reaction.”
I shivered, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the bottle of licorice extract that was missing from Swissmen Sweets. That missing bottle would make Charlotte a more likely suspect than ever, since she could have taken it while visiting my grandmother before the competition. I had promised my grandmother that I would help Charlotte. Handing her over to Aiden didn’t seem to fall into the helping category.
“From what I can gather, every person at the candy contest had licorice extract, and it was all the same brand made by the same Amish company, located in Pennsylvania. I don’t know how I’m supposed to find out which candy maker, if any, gave it to her.”
“Does the coroner know how much of the licorice extract she drank?” I asked.
Aiden shook his head. “No. With such a severe allergy, it wouldn’t take much to kill her. The confusing thing—well, one of them, as there are many with this case—is why she drank it. There was no sign of a struggle, and the coroner believes someone put her inside the organ after she died. Why would she drink it? She knew she was allergic.”
“Maybe she was physically forced to drink it,” I suggested.
“There were no signs of a struggle to indicate that.” He pulled lightly on the swing’s chains, moving me closer to him by a centimeter, but it felt like a mile.
I swallowed. “There are other methods of coercion.”
He studied me. “That’s what I was thinking. If something or someone she loved was threatened, maybe she thought she had no choice.”
“I didn’t get the impression that she was very close to her family,” I said. “However, it looks like Sol Weaver is planning to sell Josephine’s candy shop.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And how would you know that?”
“I gave Lindy a ride back to Berlin Candies after the ACC ended and ran into Jeffrey Galwin. He said Sol was sniffing around the shop today. He’s the one who had the idea that Sol was planning to sell. The shop does have the best location in the county, right there in the middle of Berlin. Sol could make a lot of money.”
“Ahh, Jeffrey.” He sighed. “He would have been a good suspect.”
“I know,” I said.
“You know?”
I shifted on the swing, trying to get a little bit more comfortable. I wished that he would let go of the chains, so that I could stand up and step a safe distance away from him. “He has a lot of anger, especially toward Josephine and her shop. She loved her business. From what I can tell, it was the most important aspect of her life, but even if he didn’t have an alibi, I don’t see how he could get her to drink licorice extract. I got the sense that Josephine didn’t care a whit what Jeffrey thought and the feeling was mutual.”
Aiden sighed. “And she was nowhere close to her shop or Jeffrey when she died. Everyone has someone or something that he or she is willing to die for. I just have to find out who or what that was for Josephine. If I do, I’ll find her killer.”
I shivered. He was right. I would die for my grandmother, my parents, and Cass. They weren’t the only ones, but those were the names that came immediately to mind. “No sign of Jethro?”
He shook his head. “He appears to have vanished into thin air. My worst fear is another animal got him, but please don’t tell my mother that. She would never recover.” Finally, he let go of the chains and settled into the next swing over. I felt like I could breathe again.
“What are you going to do now?” I asked as my lungs filled with welcome oxygen.
“Think,” he said, kicking the ground and rocking back in his swing. “There are a lot of clues that were planted in this case. Whoever was responsible for Josephine’s death was doing her best to confuse us.”
“Her?” I asked.
He smiled. “Poisoning is typically a woman’s weapon of choice when committing murder. Maybe because it seems kinder and gentler, but my theory is it’s because it takes more thought. It’s been my experience that when a woman decides to kill, she spends much more time plotting and planning it out than a man does.”
“Have you known many murderers?” I asked.
He sighed. “More than I care to think about, and it only seems to be getting worse.” He ran his hand through his dark hair. “At times, it feels like police work is truly an uphill battle, and we are losing ground.”
“I know that you’re giving it your best.” I turned my swing to face him. “Everyone in the county knows that too. We’re lucky to have you.”
He turned his swing to face me, and our knees touched. He studied me. “I know,” he said, breaking the tension, “that the Sheriff’s Department is not loved by the community, especially not by the Amish. I want to do whatever I can to change that. We aren’t the enemy. We’re here to serve the community. That includes the Amish.”
“The sheriff might not agree with you on that,” I said, looking up. “And he’s up for reelection.”
He grimaced. “And in all likelihood, he will be reelected. No one is opposing him.”
“You could run against him. Someone should challenge his power. You could win.” I studied his face hopefully.
“As his deputy, that would be the wrong thing to do.” He shook his head. “I don’t agree with his policies, and believe me when I say, I don’t enforce any of his anti-Amish stances, but if I want to be a sheriff, I would do better to move to a different county than run against my boss. Loyalty is a big deal in law enforcement, and if it looks like I don’t have loyalty for my superior, it could ruin my career, no matter where I go.”
“You’d rather work for a tyrant instead of challenging him?” I asked.
He sighed. “No, but I try to work within the system to protect those who wouldn’t even be considered if I hadn’t been there to speak up for them.”
“Like Charlotte,” I said, well aware that our knees were still touching.
He nodded in the twilight. “Just like Charlotte.”
“Well, for whatever it might be worth, I think if you ran against Sheriff Marshall, you would win. You’re clearly the best cop the department has, even if you did think I was capable of murder once,” I teased. “Er, twice.”
He laughed. It was a loud sound and echoed through the stillness of the evening.
“I wasn’t joking.” I stood, no longer able to stand the physical contact with him, and held onto the chains of my swing as if I needed their support.
He stood up too, right in front of me. “I know, and I appreciate the vote of confidence. I want to have your support, Bailey.”
I swallowed. “You have it.” My knees felt wobbly, so I sat back down on the swing.
He smiled. “Good. That’s enough for right now.” He grabbed the chains on either side of me and leaned forward. My breath caught as he kissed me in the middle of the forehead. “That will hold until you’re ready.” Aiden let go of the swing’s chains, and I rocked backward away from him, wondering if I had imagined the kiss.
He turned and walked away.
“Ready for what?” I asked, barely above a whisper, to his receding back.
What did I need to be ready for? A thousand possibilities came to mind at that moment. Ready to solve the murder was one of them, but I knew that wasn’t what this conversation had been about. I wasn’t ready t
o contemplate the real business at hand. I hoped that I was wrong about his implication. I didn’t need this complication, even though I knew that both Juliet and Maami would love it. Aiden knew that. But would he wait until I was ready? It might be a long wait for him. A very long wait.
I kicked off the mulch-covered earth again and swung back into the dark open sky that opened wide to greet me.
Chapter 35
I rocked back and forth in the swing for a few minutes after Aiden was gone. Then I stood up and followed him. The least I could do was help him search for his mother’s pig.
When I reached the lawn at the edge of the church, the grass and dry leaves crunched under my feet. In my mind, every step I took was on broken glass. I could hear the crack and the shatter, and it seemed to echo through the silent center of town.
I froze and listened. “Aiden?” I called.
There was no answer.
I already knew Aiden could move fast. He could be back in his cruiser by now, driving to the Sheriff’s Department.
Then, I heard it. A little ways away. The same broken glass sound that I was making came from the other side of the church. In the still night, the sound traveled easily.
“Aiden?” I called again.
Still there was no response. I told myself I should abandon the pig search for the night and return to Swissmen Sweets. Maybe I would have a chance to speak to Charlotte and talk to her about her aunt. Maybe Charlotte would know what her aunt cared about so much that she might be willing to drink licorice extract to protect it.
“Get a grip, Bailey,” I told myself. “You lived in New York City, for goodness’ sake.” There had been countless times when Cass and I had been out in the city and I had come home at an ungodly hour. Or even more times when I had lost track of time working at JP Chocolates and left the shop on my own in the wee hours of the morning. I never once got mugged. I never once felt like I was in danger, not the way I did at that moment, which only made me feel that much more ridiculous. I was in the middle of Amish Country. There wasn’t a safer place on earth; at least I would have thought that before the murders. Still, I had nothing to fear.
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