Marshmallow Malice

by Amanda Flower

  RJ folded his arms. “Which one of you got stung?”

  Cass waved with her good hand. “It was me. I was just squatting in the strawberry patch, picking away, and the bee bit me. I didn’t do a thing to him.”

  RJ walked over to her. “Bees don’t bite. They sting.”

  “It hurts, whatever it was,” Cass said.

  “May I see your wrist?” RJ asked.

  Cass hesitated at first and then held up her wrist for him to see. I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t touch her as he examined the sting. Amish men rarely touched women they weren’t related to. At times, they were even uncomfortable shaking hands with a woman they didn’t know.

  “It is just a minor sting. The swelling is not much. The ice should help. I am very sorry that this happened to you on our property. We are happy to give you your money back for the strawberries you’ve picked today.”

  Cass lowered her hand.

  “That’s not necessary,” I said. “But thank you for the offer.”

  The front door opened again, and Essie ran out a second time with a hand wrapped around a plastic bag of ice. She handed the bag to her father and ran back inside the house without a word.

  RJ handed the bag of ice to Cass. “Hold this ice on it. It will fix you right up.”

  “Hey,” Cass said. “If you’re Amish, how do you have ice?”

  “We have a propane refrigerator and freezer.” RJ scowled.

  “Oh,” Cass replied.

  “I didn’t know the two of you were in the market for strawberries.” Aiden spoke for the first time. His arms were folded across his chest and his gaze was squarely on me.

  RJ looked at the deputy. “Do you know these ladies?”

  “I do,” Aiden said, and didn’t elaborate on how well he knew us, especially how well he knew me.

  Cass looked up from the ice bag, which she was holding against her wrist as if her life depended on it. I think she was still a little worried that she might be allergic to bees. I shouldn’t have scared her by mentioning the no-breathing thing.

  “What brings you two here?” Aiden asked.

  I raised my eyebrows at Cass. This was where she was supposed to jump in and give me an out.

  “I asked Bailey to come out with me,” Cass said, and winced at she touched the ice to her sting again. “It was completely my idea. Charlotte mentioned this strawberry patch, and I thought chocolate-dipped strawberries would be just the thing to sell at the Fourth of July celebration on the square. I mean, what’s more summertime than that? Besides, I just wanted a real country farm experience before I left.”

  Aiden eyed her. “And how long are you here?”

  “I won’t be going back until Wednesday. I’m staying through the Fourth of July, tomorrow. I took a few vacation days. Jean Pierre was itching to be in charge of the shop again. He’s the worst retired person ever.”

  Aiden pressed his lips together. I didn’t think it was because he disliked Cass. The two of them got along quite well, but I knew he was thinking I always got into much more trouble when she was around. I wasn’t sure that was fair or true. I seemed to find plenty of trouble on my own and always had.

  Cass turned to RJ. “Thank you for the ice, Mr . . .”

  “Chupp,” he said. “I’m RJ Chupp, and this is my farm.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chupp. My wrist is feeling much better already.” Cass showed him, as if he needed proof.

  He tugged on his beard. “I’m glad to hear it. I appreciate that you came out to pick. I hope there are no hard feelings about the beesting. You do pick at your own risk. A beesting is better than a snakebite. That’s what I always say, but I can give you your money back.”

  “No need,” I said.

  “Wait, what?” Cass asked. “I could have gotten bitten by a snake? There are snakes in Ohio?”

  “There are snakes all over the country,” RJ said.

  “Where’s St. Patrick when you need him?” Cass muttered. “I never have to deal with bees or snakes back home. There are advantages to living in the city. We killed all those creatures with pavement.”

  “I suggest that you take your strawberries and go back to Swissmen Sweets,” Aiden said. “I think staying indoors will be best for you.” He eyed me. “For both of you.”

  “We are happy to,” I said evenly. “RJ, the strawberries look lovely. I know they will do very well in my family’s candy shop.”

  Cass’s eyes went wide. I knew I’d surprised her by agreeing to leave. However, I sensed that I wouldn’t have any luck trying to have a frank conversation with RJ as long as Aiden was there. I would have to come back another time, or find another way to question RJ.

  That was much more easily said than done.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “RJ, thank you so much for your time.” Aiden shook his hand. “I know this is hard on your family.”

  “It’s not as hard as you think.”

  Aiden’s brow went up.

  RJ made fists at his sides. “We lost my sister a long time ago. We already cried any tears we could spare over her. She’s facing her judgment now. My only regret is that she didn’t return to the straight path before she met her end. I suppose I always expected this day to come. Expected the police to knock on my door and tell me that she’d come to a sad end. I steeled myself for this moment and am relieved that I have been able to rise to the challenge of it. In our family, I was the one who faced the life Gott planned for me. Elizabeth did not.”

  “Harsh,” Cass whispered in my ear.

  RJ’s reaction was so much different from Becca’s. Becca had hoped that God would take mercy on her childhood friend. RJ expected judgment for his sister. I could only wish that of the two, Becca’s hopes stood closer to the truth.

  On the bright side, I wouldn’t have to bring Becca into the conversation at all; Aiden already knew that Leeza was RJ’s sister. I was happy to be able to keep my promise to Becca.

  RJ nodded and marched back to the house. A petite Amish woman met him at the door. She wore a navy dress and appeared to have been crying. Her thick glasses magnified the tears in her eyes. My heart constricted when I saw her. It seemed to me that some of the Chupp family still had tears to shed over Leeza.

  RJ ushered the woman into the house. They both disappeared as he closed the door. Above, two faces reappeared in the upper window. I recognized Essie and the smaller girl.

  Aiden turned to Cass and me. “Where are you parked?”

  “We’re up by the strawberry patch because we really did pick strawberries. It wasn’t like I got stung by a bee on purpose.” Cass smiled sweetly up at him.

  I rolled my eyes, and Aiden studied her as if he wasn’t quite sure if that was the truth.

  “How did you know the Chupps were related to Leeza?” Aiden asked as we walked back across the field to the strawberry patch.

  “I heard it through the Amish grapevine,” I said, thinking of Becca Stout.

  “Was it Emily?” he pressed.

  I shook my head.

  “Was it Charlotte?”

  I shook my head again.

  “Are you going to tell me?” Aiden stopped in the middle of the Chupps’ yard.

  I shook my head for a third time. Aiden groaned and started walking again.

  “Fine,” he said. “For now. I will find out eventually.”

  “How did you find out her relationship to the Amish?” I asked.

  He frowned. “She went by the name Leeza Chupp. We followed the trail from there. It’s much harder to hide your past from the authorities than people think.”

  I guessed that was true.

  Aiden hooked his thumb through his utility belt the way I had seen him do it a thousand times before when he was frustrated, usually frustrated with me, if I was being completely honest. “Is there anything else you learned that I should know, Bailey?”

  I closed the back door. “I assume RJ told you that Leeza—or Elizabeth Chupp—was shunned by her community for her drinkin
g.”

  He nodded. “Her brother said she was removed from the community eight years ago. According to him, her drinking was out of control, and the district bishop believed that she was leading other young people in the church astray.”

  I frowned. “How old was she?” I paused. “It was difficult to tell because she had led such a hard life. It clearly had taken a toll on her appearance.”

  “Twenty-seven,” Aiden said.

  “She was only nineteen when she was kicked out of her church and home,” Cass said. “That seems cruel.”

  Aiden nodded. “It is the age when young Amish people are supposed to choose their own path, Amish or English.”

  “It sounds to me,” I said, looking down at my shoes in the bright green grass, “as if alcohol chose her path, not Leeza herself.”

  “She chose alcohol,” Aiden said, and there was a twitch in his jaw.

  I bit my lip. I knew about his own father’s history with alcohol; drinking was something Aiden did not tolerate well. “Recently, she was sober,” I said. “She didn’t drink for six months. She was trying to get her life back.”

  “How do you know that?” Aiden’s voice was sharp.

  “I can’t tell you, but until very recently, she was sober. That’s why she was getting counseling from Reverend Brook. She knew she needed help this time to stop. She knew enough to get help outside herself. It’s not the Amish way to ask for help from anyone other than their own church elders or family.”

  “She didn’t have any church elders,” Cass said. “Not after she was kicked out of the community.”

  I nodded. “That’s a good point.”

  “Do you have any theories about what might have happened to cause her to start drinking again?” Aiden asked.

  “Not a single one,” I said, feeling as if I’d failed some sort of pop quiz. “But I think if we can figure that out, we just might find the person who killed her.”

  “What if it was nothing?” Cass said. “What if it was boredom?”

  I glanced at her. “That wasn’t the impression I got. She wanted to put her life back together so she could see her family again.”

  “She wanted to rejoin the Amish?” Aiden asked.

  I touched my cheek. It was hot. I guessed I had gotten a bit of sunburn, too, while picking strawberries. “I don’t know that.”

  Aiden seemed to consider this.

  “Any luck tracking down the car or driver who gave her a ride Saturday?”

  “No, the car description you gave us was very vague, and without a license plate number, it will prove difficult. We don’t have traffic cameras or technology for monitoring cars as they enter and leave the village.” He shrugged. “We depend on those plate numbers to make a positive ID.”

  I bit the inside of my lip.

  Aiden squinted at me. “Don’t feel bad about missing the number. Even trained officers can miss them, and most of the time they aren’t covered in marshmallow and cake.” There was humor in his voice.

  I wrinkled my nose. “At least now we know why that Amish man came to the church. He must have known Leeza when she was Amish, but it definitely wasn’t RJ Chupp. The Amish man outside the church was a bit younger and had dark hair.”

  Aiden took his department-issued ball cap out of the back pocket of his uniform and put it on his head. “It stands to reason, but we can’t be clear about his motivation until we find him. I hope Reverend Brook can shine some light on who he is.”

  “Did you ask him?” I asked.

  Aiden nodded. “And he avoided the question. I’ll press him a bit more about it when my mother’s not around.” He nodded to the car. “You should get those strawberries home. It can’t be good for them to be in the heat after they’re picked.”

  This was true, but I was dying to ask Aiden about his conversation with RJ. I had a feeling I knew how he would answer, but I had to try. “So, RJ has had no contact with his sister since she left the community?”

  Aiden rocked back on his heels. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I knew he was weighing just how much information he could share. I knew most of it would be off-limits. As an officer of the law, he took his job very seriously. He would not do anything to jeopardize the integrity of the case.

  “I’m not asking about forensics, Aiden. Only if an Amish man had seen his sister in a while.”

  “No,” he said after a few seconds. “He said no one in his home has seen, spoken to her, or even spoken of her since she left.”

  “That’s worse than if she were dead,” Cass exclaimed.

  “And you believe him?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately, I have no choice but to believe him. He’s in a very conservative Amish district, so his word is law in that house. I don’t think his wife or any of the children would disobey him.”

  I frowned as I remembered the woman in the doorway with tears in her eyes. I could only assume she was RJ’s wife. I guessed that she had thought about Leeza since she’d left the district. I realized I had missed an opportunity to talk to Essie about her shunned aunt. Leeza had been out of the community for so long, it was possible that Essie hadn’t been born when her aunt was pushed out of the district. Also, it probably wasn’t ethical to pester a child about that sort of thing. Still, a small part of me couldn’t help but wish I had asked.

  Aiden looked from me to Cass and back again. “I want the two of you to be careful. The coroner has confirmed that Leeza’s injuries were the result of an explosion. The sheriff’s department is actively trying to find out where that explosion occurred. This is not your run-of-the-mill case. Someone willing to blow something up to kill someone has no concern for who else might get hurt or killed in the process. It is not a means of murder that can be well contained.”

  “Do you think the explosion was meant to kill her?” I asked. “Could it be she was at the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  “Maybe. But then why did someone go to the trouble of dumping her on the church steps?” Aiden countered.

  I didn’t have an answer for that.

  Not long after saying goodbye to Aiden, Cass and I drove back to Swissmen Sweets in silence. In the quiet, I wondered what choices Leeza had made in her life to come to such a sad and terrible end.

  I parked on Apple Street and paused to look around. Sometimes I would leave it on the street for days because I preferred to walk back and forth to work. In New York, I would’ve amassed quite the collection of parking tickets. Then again, in Manhattan, I hadn’t even kept a car. Here in Ohio, no one seemed to notice or mind.

  Cass stared at me. “What are you looking at?”

  I glanced at her. “This was the spot where the man picked up Leeza.” I took a breath. “I’m still kicking myself that I didn’t stop her from leaving with him or get the plate number.”

  She shaded her eyes. “How could you have known what was going to happen?”

  “I didn’t, but I did have a bad feeling when the car drove away. That’s why I reported it to Aiden.”

  “Look at this,” Cass said. “I found something.” Cass bent down and picked up something that was stuck to the curb

  She held up what looked like a piece of purple cardboard. On taking a closer look, I saw that it was a matchbook. She dropped it into my hand. “Stardust Winery” was emblazoned on the cover in silver cursive.

  I opened the matchbook and found the matches inside water-logged. “It could have been there from Saturday or it could have been there for a month. In any case, we haven’t had any rain since that storm on Saturday night. This has to have been here at least that long.”

  “Good detective work, Sherlock,” Cass said.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know if this means anything at all. The matchbook could have been dropped by anyone. The wineries in Holmes County are a popular stop for tourists. It could have fallen out of a tourist’s pocket.”

  “Or it could have fallen out of Leeza’s pocket,” Cass countered.

  She had a point. />
  “Did Aiden or his deputies come to look at this street as a possible crime scene?”

  “Not that I know of, but I can ask him,” I said.

  Cass held up her hand. “Don’t ask him just yet. We have to look into this lead. You don’t want Aiden running all over the county on a wild-goose chase. We can save him some time by checking this one out.” She took the matchbook from my hand. “Because, Bai, my friend, this is what they call a clue.”

  It was indeed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Before Cass and I could follow the maybe clue she’d found, we went to Swissmen Sweets to check on my grandmother and Charlotte. When I walked into the shop, I almost turned around and walked back out again. I would have made it without being seen if Cass hadn’t been right behind me, causing me to run into her.

  “Ouch, where are you going?” she asked.

  I didn’t have time to answer her because the person I wanted to avoid clapped her hands. “Bailey, thank heavens you are here,” Margot Rawlings said. Margot was a box-shaped woman in her sixties with short, curly hair she constantly fluffed when she was agitated, and Margot was agitated a lot.

  “Margot, I didn’t expect to see you here.” My voice went up an octave as I spoke.

  Charlotte, who stood behind Margot on the other side of the counter, covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. She knew how I felt about Margot. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the woman. She had a lot of good ideas, and under her leadership, tourism in Harvest had grown tenfold. However, she’d been able to do that because she had a special gift for convincing people to do things they didn’t want to do. I was a prime victim. It was almost impossible to say no to her, I had a feeling that that would be the case again today.

  “As you know, the Fourth of July celebration is tomorrow on the square. I want all participants to be on point.”

  God forbid someone not be on point.

  Cass held up the baskets of berries we’d bought. “Chocolate-covered patriotic strawberries are added to the menu.”

  “How lovely!” Margot said. “I knew Swissmen Sweets would come through.”