I opened my mouth when Anna stepped in front of me. “Is Lily here? I thought it would be nice for Angie to meet her.”
Ira’s brow shot up. “Ya. She’s in the office. You can go back and see her if you like. I need to give my son a talking to about his marble.” He sighed. “That kind. He should be in school today, but he’s been talking out of turn in class so often the teacher said we had to keep him home today.”
“Kinner are a blessing and a burden,” Anna grinned. “My Jonah gave me fits when he was growing up. Teacher took the switch to him more times than I could count.”
“You got that right, Anna. Go on back and see Lily. I know she will like to talk with you both.”
“Danki,” Anna said.
As Anna and I wove through the aisle, I overheard Ira say to Kenneth, “Kenneth Eby, I better not find any more marbles on the floor.”
Behind us, the bell rang again and a large Amish family poured into the store. The father greeted Ira and spoke quickly in Pennsylvania Dutch. The children dispersed in all directions as the Amish father handed Ira a list.
Anna smiled. “Gut. They will keep Ira occupied while we talk to his wife.” She started down the long dry goods aisle.
I quickened my pace behind her. “You don’t want him there when we talk to Lily?”
“Nee. Amish women are taught to follow their husbands’ lead. If Ira tells her not to talk to us about Eric Schmidt, she won’t.”
“Why would Ira tell her that? Do you think he knows something?”
“He may or he may not. Amish men are protective of their wives. It may be he just doesn’t want her involved with the trauma surrounding Eric’s death again.” Anna made a sharp right turn down a row of canned goods.
The canned goods aisle dead-ended into open space just before a doorway. The doorway was open, and I spotted an Amish woman inside, recording numbers into a handwritten ledger.
She glanced up and her face broke into a smile. “Anna, it is gut to see you. Weren’t you here a week ago last Monday?” She shot me a shy glance.
Rolling Brook was small. In Dallas, I was lucky if all my coworkers recognized my face, let alone my name, when they last saw me.
Anna laughed. “Ira asked me that same thing. Can’t I stop in for a visit?”
Lily blushed. “Ya, of course. You are always welcome for a visit.” She stood. “Please come inside and sit a spell. It’s much warmer here in the office than the drafty old store.”
I followed Anna into the office, which was more like a small study. A small potbelly stove gave warmth from one corner, and two oak chairs sat across from the desk. Anna and I each took a chair, and Lily turned the old-fashioned wooden desk chair to face us. I placed the folded quilt on my lap.
Anna patted my knee. “This is Eleanor Lapp’s niece, Angie Braddock. She’s visiting from Texas.”
Lily’s light blue eyes widened. “But you’re not Amish.”
I chuckled. “No, I’m not.”
Confusion crossed Lily’s face.
“Eleanor didn’t grow up in the Amish way,” Anna said. “She converted when she and her late husband Jacob married.”
Lily folded her hands in her lap. “It didn’t know that. I thought Eleanor was born Amish like most other folks. It’s not often that an Englischer chooses to live an Amish life. There’s nothing about Eleanor that would lead me to believe that she grew up Englisch. She’s one of the best Amish women I know.”
Anna smiled. “She would say that’s the highest compliment you could give her.”
Lily smiled. “It’s the truth. And how is she?”
“It’s a gut day,” Anna repeated what she told Ira just moments ago.
“I will continue to keep her in my prayers. It’s hard to understand Gotte’s ways when someone as gut and kind as Eleanor gets such as terrible disease. When she came into the store, she always had candy in her pockets for my children. I pretended not to notice her sneaking it to them.” She smiled shyly at me. “I’m so glad that you are here to visit your aunt. She spoke of you often when she did her shopping here. ’Course she never told me you were an Englischer.” Lily leaned forward. “That’s a beautiful quilt. Did Eleanor make it?”
I shook my head. “Evelyn Schmidt did.”
She jerked back as if I had reached out and pinched her, and moved so quickly that her chair tipped back and knocked into the edge of her desk. “Why do you have it?”
“Lily, we’re here today to talk to you about this quilt,” Anna said in her most soothing voice.
“To me? Why?”
Anna took the quilt from my lap. “Evelyn wanted you to have it.”
Lily dug her heels into the floor and pushed back in the desk chair until it butted against her desk. “Why would she give it to me?”
“Do you recognize the quilt?” Anna asked.
Lily began to shake her head “no,” then stopped.
Anna held it up so Lily could see it better. “You do know it.”
Lily dropped her gaze. “It was our quilt.”
“Yours and Evelyn’s?” I asked.
She nodded. “I was a terrible seamstress. My mother gave up trying to teach me. I wanted to learn, so that I could care for my own family one day. Evelyn offered to teach me. She said the best way to learn was by quilting. She claimed I could make anything if I could make a quilt.”
“You finished this quilt together?” I asked.
The young Amish woman shook her head. “We started it together. We did not finish it together.”
Anna set the quilt back onto her lap. “Why didn’t you finish it?”
Lily picked a pencil off of her desk and squeezed. “Something happened . . .”
“Her son Eric died?” Anna asked.
Lily wrinkled her nose as if she had suddenly gotten a whiff of rotten eggs. “Eric died a long time ago, but ya, it was difficult to go over to her house after he passed. It was all she ever talked about.”
I fished in my purse for Evelyn’s note to my aunt. “Evelyn sent this quilt to my aunt with a note. The note told her to give it to you and ask you what happened to her son.”
“Wh-why would she do that?” she stammered. “I don’t know anything about it. He died. It was a terrible accident.”
“We don’t know why Evelyn did this,” Anna said. “But it was her dying wish. Since Eleanor isn’t well enough to bring you the quilt herself, Angie and I offered to.”
“She’s trying to make me take it from her, even beyond the grave,” Lily said barely above a whisper.
“She tried to give the quilt to you before?” I asked.
“Ya. It was about a month ago. She came into the store and wanted to talk about Eric and give it to me. She said she wanted me to have it because it was partly mine. My husband asked her to leave, even before she showed me what it looked like.”
“Why did Ira not let her give it to you?”
“Because he said that it only encouraged her to ask more questions about Eric. That was so long ago. We were nothing more than children then. Now we are grown and have children of our own. We didn’t have to be reminded of something so terrible. That quilt reminds me of that time. I didn’t want it when Evelyn tried to give it to me, and I don’t want it now.” She held up her hands as if to block Anna from giving her the quilt. “Evelyn wasn’t well. After Eric’s accident, she was a broken woman.”
Anna sat up a little straighter. “She struggled, as we all do.”
Lily flushed. “I’m sorry, I spoke out of turn. I know that Evelyn was a friend of yours.”
Anna patted her knee. “She was my friend, and I know that she changed after Eric died. She was a mother who lost her only child. We can have nothing but sympathy for her. Evelyn always believed that Eric was pushed off the roof. This belief hel
ped her cope with her loss.”
Lily grimaced. “Every Amish person in Holmes County knows about that. It’s all she ever spoke of, but I still don’t understand what that has to do with me after all this time.” Her breath grew short. “Why would she talk to me about it? Why is she still trying to give me this quilt?”
“He fell from your family’s barn,” Anna said.
“It was a terrible accident. Nothing more.”
I slipped Evelyn’s letter out of my coat pocket. “Do you want to see the note?”
She shook her head, but reached for it with shaky hands. The paper made a fluttering sound as she removed it from the envelope.
“I-I—” Lily stuttered before bursting into tears.
Chapter Four
Anna wrapped a comforting arm around Lily’s shoulders. I picked up the letter and envelope off the pine floor and tucked them back into my purse.
“Shh, shh, calm down, dear,” Anna murmured. She jerked her head to the door. “Angie, shut the door.”
I did as I was told. Did Anna want me to shut the door to shelter Lily, or to keep her from running away? When Lily’s tears began to subside, Anna slid back into her chair.
Lily let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t react this way over something that happened so long ago.”
Anna put the quilt back on my lap. “It was a hard thing. Sometimes it takes more than a decade or two to heal a painful memory.”
Lily nodded. Anna’s words seemed to comfort her.
“What about the note upset you?”
“It was seeing my name there in Evelyn’s handwriting. After all this time, I am still connected by Eric’s death in some way. I will never be rid of it.” She gave a shuddered breath.
I wondered what she meant by that.
“Were you connected when he died?” I asked.
She removed the handkerchief that had been tucked into the sleeve of her plain navy dress. “I saw Eric fall.” Her voice was hoarse.
“From the barn?” I asked just wanting to be sure.
She nodded. “You were right. It was my family’s barn. I was below walking around it and watching the men work. I should have been in the kitchen with my mamm helping with the food, but I didn’t want to.” She blushed. “I’d rather moon over my beau.”
I remembered the ladies from the quilting circle said that Lily was being courted by Cooper Mueller at the time. I was about to ask her if that was who she meant when she added, “Every time I see that barn I think about that day. It makes it difficult for me to visit my father there.”
I leaned forward. “Did you see Eric on the roof?”
She nodded.
“Was he alone” I asked.
“Nee,” she whispered.
“Who was with him?”
She turned her gaze downward to her hands, which were clenched together on her lap.
Anna shot me a look as if say, “Let me take if from here.” She squeezed Lily’s hands. “Lily, so much time has passed. You’d feel better if you tell someone what you saw.”
Lily blew out a long breath as if she’d been swimming deep under water and just broken through the water’s surface. “Cooper Mueller. He was on the roof with Eric.”
“Did you see him push Eric off?” I asked.
Anna scowled at me.
“No. I mean, not exactly,” Lily said. “I saw the shadows of Cooper and Eric on the roof. They seemed upset. Then they moved out of the sight. A few moments later, there was a scuffle and then I saw Eric fall.”
“When you say scuffle, what do you mean?” Anna asked. “Did you see them fight?”
Lily shook her head. “Nee. I only saw shadows, or at least I thought I saw shadows. It was near noontime, and the sun was bright. After that, all I remember are the screams of the women and cries of the men below, running to Eric’s side.” She closed her eyes as if to block off the mental image that continued to haunt her fifteen years later. “It was too late, though. He was gone. His neck was broken.”
“Do you think he pushed Eric off of the roof?”
She thought for a long minute. “I think it’s possible.”
“And that’s why you broke up with him?” I asked.
“A few days after the accident, I asked him what happened. I told him that I saw him and Eric arguing not long before Eric fell. Cooper refused to talk to me about it. I told him if he couldn’t tell me the truth, then I couldn’t marry him. He said that was fine because he wasn’t sure he wanted to marry me anyway. He said he didn’t know what he wanted out of life anymore.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “That was the last time I ever spoke to him.”
“Did you tell the police this?” I asked.
“I couldn’t tell the police,” Lily said. “I don’t know if Cooper had done anything wrong. I only thought he may have.”
I internally sighed. “It’s the police’s job to investigate suspicions like that.”
Anna settled back into her seat and adjusted her skirts. “Angie, the Amish do not go to police unless it is absolutely necessary.”
It sounded to me like it had been necessary to talk to the police then, but I held my tongue. “Where is Cooper now?”
“He left the Amish way a year after we stopped courting. He lives in Millersburg as an Englischer now.”
I held the quilt out to her. “Will you take it?”
She shook head. “Nee. Nee, I don’t want it. Please don’t give it to me.”
“But—”
Anna placed a hand on the quilt to stop me. “You don’t have to take it, Lily,” Anna said.
She cast her eyes down. “Please don’t tell my husband that I spoke to you about this. He would not like it.”
“We won’t,” I promised.
She nodded. “Please leave now. I have much work to do.”
By the time that we left the office, the loud Amish family was gone. Ira waved to us from the cash register. “Did you have a nice visit?”
Still holding the quilt in my arms, I said, “Yes, thank you.” I doubted that Lily would agree.
Outside, Anna and I found Lily and Ira’s son Kenneth kneeling next to Oliver. The Frenchie lay on his back and gleefully kicked his legs, boots and all, while Kenneth scratched his stomach. Oliver spotted me, barked, and rolled over.
“Looks like Oliver has made a new friend,” I said.
Kenneth scrambled to his feet and brushed the snow off his black trousers. “Is this your dog?”
“He is,” I said.
Kenneth pulled his black stocking cap down farther over his ears. “He’s wearing clothes.”
I wondered what Kenneth would think if he could see my icy boss carrying her teacup Pomeranian in a Chanel bag. “It’s fairly common where I’m from.”
“Where’s that?”
“Dallas, Texas.”
“Texas!” His eyes sparkled. “I would love to meet a cowboy. Do you see many cowboys in Texas?”
Oliver licked my hand. “A few,” I said.
He sighed and a puff of hot air escaped his lips. “I wish I could see Texas.” He pointed to my large diamond ring. “Are you marrying a Texas cowboy?”
I snorted. Ryan was most definitely not a cowboy. He was more likely to be seen in Docksiders than spurs. “No.”
Anna playfully shook her finger at Kenneth. “Don’t you let your father hear all this talk about seeing Texas. He wouldn’t like it.”
Kenneth made a face and then asked me, “Why are you carrying that quilt around? Are you cold?”
“I wanted to give it your mother,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because someone asked me to.”
“Why?”
That question was much more complicated to answer.
Anna placed a hand on her hip. “Kenneth Eby, when did you get so nosy?”
He grinned. “I’m only asking because I’ve seen that quilt before.”
I blinked at him. “When?”
“A week ago. An old lady was here and wanted to give it to Mamm just like you did, but Daed turned her away. He told her she wasn’t welcome in our store. He’s never turned away a customer before, not even the Englisch teenagers who steal penny candy from the jars.”
A week ago? Lily had said that Evelyn’s visit had been closer to a month ago.
“Who was the lady?” I asked.
“I don’t know her name. She was Amish, but she doesn’t go to our church district. Daed seemed to know who she was.” He lowered his voice. “He didn’t like her.”
“Are you sure it was the same quilt?” I asked.
He frowned. “Ya, I’m sure.”
“What did she look like?” Anna asked.
“She was old. Older than my grossmammi.”
Anna folded her arms. “Being old is not enough information.”
The boy smirked. “She walked with a black cane. I remember that because she kept pointing at my daed with it.”
“Evelyn,” Anna said under her breath.
The quilt felt heavy in my arms. So Evelyn had tried to give Lily the quilt twice before, and just like Anna and me, she’d been turned away.
Chapter Five
I started the SUV’s engine, and it sounded like a jetliner was about to take off. Anna simply shook her head at the noise. “I think we should head to Running Stitch and bend Martha’s ear about what we’ve learned. Maybe Evelyn was right all along.”
Inside Running Stitch, I inhaled the scent of my aunt’s store. It was a mixture of vinegar water, freshly ironed cotton, and lemon. Just like my aunt’s house, everything was the same as my childhood memory from the wide-planked floor to the whitewashed walls displaying dark-colored Amish quilts. Shelves with bolts of dark, solid colored fabric lined one wall, and a large quilt frame with a Nine Patch quilt, waiting to be finished, stretched across it sat in the back corner near the back door and storage closet. It felt odd to be there without my aunt. I had spent countless hours in the shop with her as a child. My mother didn’t understand my fascination with quilting. She still didn’t. Her motto: why make something when you can buy it?
Plainly Murder Page 3