“I should go.”
I glanced up and down the street, but I didn’t see a horse and buggy anywhere. That was unusual in Harvest. “Did you come with an Englisch driver? I have to run an errand at the church.” I nodded to Jethro. “I need to take him to say goodbye to Juliet. She and Reverend Brook will be leaving soon, but after I am done with that I would be happy to drive you over to your shop in Berlin.”
“Nee, I will be fine. I left my horse and buggy at the Harvest market. It was a short walk between the market and your candy shop. It is a warm but fine day for a walk, and it gave me time to gather my thoughts.”
“Do you want any more marshmallow sticks for your shop?” I asked. “I can run inside and get you more to stock up.”
“Nee, they sold very well, but let’s wait until after the holiday.”
“Okay,” I said.
She nodded at me one more time and then made her way down the sidewalk in the direction of the small village market. My heart went out to her. It must be awful to know her close friend had died and she couldn’t grieve as she wanted to because her community had shunned Leeza. It sounded to me as if her husband was controlling, which wasn’t unusual in the Amish world. I frowned. I wished there was some way I could help her.
Jethro tugged on his leash, heading toward the village square. I thought that he must be eager to see Juliet. I knew Juliet would have a tough time away from Jethro, and the reverse would be true, too. The little pig was used to being treated like a king by his mistress, and he wouldn’t be getting that kind of treatment in my house, not by a long shot.
Several Amish men were already on the square setting up for the Fourth of July celebration the next day. Uriah Schrock, who was the temporary caretaker of the square, wrapped red, white, and blue twinkle lights around the trunk of a tree. He smiled at me. “Guder owed to you, Bailey King.” His face broke into a wide smile as he said good afternoon to me.
“Guder owed, Uriah.”
He nodded at Jethro. “I see you have the troublemaker sau with you.”
“Troublemaker pig?”
“Oh yes, that little rascal was on the square earlier today with Juliet, and when no one was looking he pulled a string of lights from the gazebo.” Uriah wiped at his brow with a blue bandanna. “He’s lucky they weren’t plugged in or he would have gotten quite a shock indeed.”
I looked down at Jethro. He cocked his head as if to ask me What?
“Despite Jethro’s behavior, the square has always looked nice since you’ve taken over its care. Visitors to the village have noticed, too. Many who come back year after year have commented to me about how nice it all looks.”
“I do enjoy the work and give it my best. It gives me something to do while I’m in this time of waiting.”
I wanted to ask Uriah what he was waiting for but thought it was best not to pry. I was dealing with enough problems at the moment.
“Margot runs a tight ship,” he went on, shoving the bandanna into the pocket of his trousers. “I knew when she hired me that she would expect the very best. That’s why I’m here just about every day, working.” He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell my bishop that I’m out here on Sundays. That’s a no-no for my community.”
“Are you really working on Sundays?” I knew every Amish district considered it bad form to work on the Sabbath.
“Not too much. I pull a weed here and there. Mostly, I’m just checking on the place. I want the green to always look its best.”
“And it does,” I said with a smile.
I had every intention of leaving then when he cleared his throat. “I heard about what happened over at the church. Terrible business.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t the least bit surprised that he had heard. The Amish grapevine was widespread, and now that it was known Leeza was former Amish, there would be even more tongues wagging.
“You found the body?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I hate to hear about something like that happening to Elizabeth.”
I blinked when he said her Amish name. “Elizabeth?”
“Elizabeth Chupp. That was the woman they found on the church steps. I happened to be walking by on my way to the square and had the misfortune to see her face. I recognized her right away. She was a member of my district here in Ohio.”
“You knew Leeza?” I asked.
“I didn’t know her very well,” he said. “But her grandfather was a great friend of mine, and he told me all about the choices she made.”
“What kinds of choices?”
“Choices that could have gotten her killed,” he said quietly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“I’m glad that my gut friend Abram has passed, so that he isn’t here to see what a sad end his granddaughter came to.” Uriah shook his head. “You called her Leeza?”
I nodded. “That was the English name she was using.”
He clicked his tongue. “It’s all very sad. I know from what Abram told me that Leeza had many struggles. When she was in rumspringa she got a taste of alcohol, and as much as the family tried, they couldn’t break her away from it. It was as if a demon had taken hold of her. I was already in Shipshewana when all this was happening, but Abram told me in letters. He wrote me one letter a week until he died five years ago. I treasured those letters so. Even among the Amish, the art of writing letters seems to be fading away,” he said forlornly.
“When did Elizabeth leave the church?” I asked.
“The way Abram told it, she didn’t want to leave. She asked the bishop if there was someone who could help her deal with her drinking while she was still a member of the community.” He shook his head. “The bishop wouldn’t have it. The Amish aren’t ones to air their dirty laundry, and the bishop, who was a much older man, didn’t want anyone outside of his district to know that they were harboring a drunk. The Amish look down on pride, but at the heart of it, we are a very proud culture. Our pride doesn’t come from material things. We take pride in how gut we are. Maybe at times to our own detriment.” He spoke as if he had some experience of this himself.
I thought about what he’d said. “So the bishop kicked her out instead of letting her find help?”
He nodded and removed the bandanna from his pocket again. “That’s the short version of it.” He folded it neatly this time before putting it back into the pocket. “Abram never told me exactly what happened. He only said in a short letter that Elizabeth had to choose the English life, and he could no longer talk about her in our letters.” He paused. “He kept his word when it came to that. He never mentioned her again. Neither did I, because I knew he was a sensitive soul, and it must have pained him to know he had a granddaughter out there that he couldn’t help.”
I watched Jethro for a moment as I thought this over. The little pig had his snout under one of the bushes near the gazebo.
“What about the rest of the Chupp family? How did they feel about her leaving the community?” I asked.
He finished wrapping the lights around the tree and then walked over to the large storage bin that was full of twinkle lights. He pulled out another red, white, and blue strand. The lights were in a perfect coil. I knew that it must have been an Amish person who’d left them that way last year. If I put Christmas lights away, they were always in a jumbled mess and I swore I would never put lights up again. When Christmas came, though, I always changed my mind.
“I don’t think they took it well. She has scores of extended family, including aunts, uncles, and cousins. The Chupps are one of the largest families in my district.”
“I know she has a brother.” I paused. “I met him.”
“Ah yes, RJ. He’s a sour fellow. Nothing like his grossdaddi was. Abram had a very amiable disposition. RJ still works the family berry farm not too far from here.”
“I’ve been to it,” I said. “I was there picking strawberries.”
He nodded. “The Chupps have the best berries around.” He untangled the ne
xt string of lights. “My friend Abram was the one who started the farm. He would be happy to see his grandson carrying on the tradition. That’s something to be thankful for. Other than Elizabeth, the rest of the family has been faithful to the Amish way.” Uriah shrugged. “Every Amish family has a child or two who strays from the faith.”
I thought of Charlotte when he said that. I thought of my father as well.
There was a sound at our feet, and I looked down to see Jethro gnawing on the coils of twinkle lights. “Jethro!” I cried.
The pig turned up his head with a red string hanging from his mouth.
I took it from him and handed it to Uriah, trying not to worry about the pig slobber I was getting all over myself. “I’m so sorry about that.”
With two fingers, Uriah took the cord. “It’s quite all right.”
“I should get him to the church. I’ll be watching him while Reverend Brook and Juliet are on their honeymoon. I think he has some chew toys in his overnight bag.”
“Overnight bag. He is more like a toddler than a pig.”
“No kidding,” I said, giving the little bacon bundle a look. It was going to be a very long week caring for him while solving a murder at the same time.
“It would be gut if he found something else to chew on.” Uriah frowned at the chewed string of lights.
I said goodbye to Uriah and continued on my way to the church. I had Jethro tucked under my arm like a football as I went. I wasn’t taking any more chances that he would get into trouble.
I reached the church without incident and let out a great sigh of relief. That sigh was short-lived, though, when the church doors opened and Christine came down the steps. She was wearing strappy espadrilles and looked as if a stiff wind would topple her right over. Just in case she fell down the stairs, I waited at the bottom for fear I might have to break her fall.
I smiled.
She looked down her long nose at me. “What are you doing here?”
I blinked. That wasn’t typically the greeting one expected at a church door. I held up the pig. “I came to talk to Juliet about Jethro before she leaves on her trip.”
She reached the pavement in front of the church where I stood. “I’m sorry if my question came off as rude,” she said in a way that made me think she wasn’t sorry in the least. “I should have known you were here to see Juliet. I know the two of you must be very close. I was surprised when she picked someone she hasn’t known for very long as her maid of honor.”
“The Brody family has been friends with my family for years. I know she would have picked my grandmother if she could, but since Maami is Amish, that was not to be,” I said and stepped around her. I was about to walk up the steps when she spoke again.
“Kayla told me that she had a nice talk with Aiden yesterday. They cleared up some things.”
“That’s nice,” I said. I was dying to ask her what those things were, but I refused to give her the satisfaction.
She wasn’t going to let me avoid the question, though. “It’s clear they both still care for each other. Kayla says she doesn’t want to put any pressure on him right now, but she isn’t worried about Aiden coming through. He has always been a man of his word.”
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop the smart remarks that were on the tip of my tongue.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was this woman from outer space? Aiden was dating me and everyone in the village knew it. Everyone in the village had tried to push us together for months, which was why we’d taken so long to finally realize we cared about each other in that way. Where was Kayla in all this? Why was she just showing up now?
I swore the woman could read my mind. “I suppose you are wondering why you haven’t met Kayla before. She was working as a journalist overseas and just came back at the beginning of the summer. She’s looking for work here now, and I’m very happy to have her home.”
“Where is she going to work as a journalist around here?” I asked, and then winced at my blunt question. I could only think of a couple of newspapers in the area, and competition was fierce for those. One of them was the Amish Budget, and I certainly didn’t think that was the beat a globe-trotting journalist would want.
“She’s looking for a change. I think after all those years abroad she was just ready to come home and make a new start. She left Holmes County right after high school. That’s when she and Aiden went their separate ways. I’m sure if she had stayed, they’d be married with children now.” She shook her head. “But my girl went in search of adventure. Aiden, on the other hand, never considered living anywhere else. They really did—excuse me, really do—love each other. It was such a joy for me to see them together again, dancing at the wedding.”
I did my best not to make a face. I wished Kayla all the luck in the world finding a new job. If a person didn’t want to work in tourism, farming, or for a factory, work was scarce in Holmes County. I was lucky; I’d had a ready-made job waiting for me when I moved here, but I couldn’t imagine moving to the county without something in place. I didn’t get the impression that a service job would be right for Kayla, but maybe I was wrong. I had only met her briefly.
I held up Jethro again. “I should go find Juliet. I have her pig after all.” It was one of those rare times that I was happy to have Jethro at my side. He was my excuse to get as far away from Christine as possible.
She nodded. “Just know that Kayla will give Aiden time, but she is very determined to hold him to his word that they will marry if neither is attached by the end of the year.”
I refused to take the bait—even if Christine’s words did leave a pit of concern growing in my stomach.
She smiled at me. “Tick tock.”
She strolled away. I should have let Cass come with me to the church. She would have knocked the woman in the teeth. It wasn’t something I was capable of doing.
“Well, I won’t keep you,” I said. “I’m sure you have a lot to do . . .”
She smiled, as if she knew what I was up to. “I’m sure we will be seeing each other again.”
I hoped not, but because she was a member of the church, I didn’t know how I could avoid her.
And now I worried about the conversation Aiden had had with Kayla. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was being ridiculous. I trusted Aiden. I loved Aiden. Yes, things had been tense since the wedding and the murder, but it was just a momentary lapse. He was the best man I knew. He was the best man I had ever known, and I wasn’t going to let some boyhood crush with a fancy degree steal him away from me.
I stomped up the church steps feeling more determined than ever to solve this murder. Maybe when I did, Aiden and I could have the heart-to-heart talk I knew we needed to have. We were dating and we had been for a while now, but neither of us had spoken of our intentions.
I didn’t want to get married now. My television show would air soon, and I was beginning to really get some traction with the candy shop outside of the county. I was busy. I had a lot of work to do, just as he did. But like any red-blooded woman in a relationship, I wanted to know where this was headed. If it was headed nowhere, nowhere wasn’t a place that I could go. It was too emotionally taxing. I had been in a relationship like that before, and what it taught me was exactly what I didn’t want. That lesson was the best thing to come out of a year of heartbreak and secrets. I couldn’t go back to that place. And even though I didn’t think Aiden would send me there, I had to know. I had to hear him promise. I needed his word. I frowned. Wasn’t that what he’d given Kayla when they were young? Did Aiden’s word from ten years ago mean as much as it would today?
When I stepped into the church, I set Jethro on the floor. “Please don’t chew on anything that’s not food.”
He cocked his head as if he were seriously considering my odd request. I had a feeling that Jethro thought whatever he could fit in his mouth would be considered food.
The church was empty, and I could hear our steps echo through the bui
lding as we made our way to Reverend Brook’s office near the front of the sanctuary. It was the most likely place for us to find Juliet. Jethro and I walked down the center aisle just as we had on the day of the wedding. How much had changed since that time. I glanced down at the little pig. “You haven’t changed, though. You are ever the constant in Harvest.”
Jethro smiled up at me as if he was glad to have this title.
There is something eerie about an empty church. A church needs people to make it come alive. My grandmother had told me that church was made up of the people, not the building; that was the Amish belief and the reason the Amish didn’t have church buildings of their own. Instead, they met biweekly in members’ houses. Every family with enough space was asked to volunteer their home for Sunday mornings. My grandmother’s district had never met at Swissmen Sweets because the shop was too small to host all her district members, but she was a regular, making a side dish or sweets to take for the meal after Sunday church wherever it was hosted.
A door creaked somewhere in the building and I spun around, half expecting to see Christine standing in the aisle behind me.
But there was no one there. I told myself it was just the old building settling that made the noise. I really didn’t believe that, but I had to tell myself something.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jethro and I walked up the steps in front of the altar, where there was a narrow door behind the pulpit. This was the door through which Reverend Brook entered the sanctuary each Sunday. The doorknob turned easily in my hand. I let Jethro through and then followed him. The little pig strode down the dark hallway with confidence. If Juliet was now the first lady of the church, I supposed that made Jethro the first pig. It was a title I knew he’d revel in.
I followed the pig down the narrow hallway. To my right was the choir room. The door was open, and navy-blue choir robes hung from metal racks. Two dozen folding chairs stood in a half circle around the room and just as many music stands were lined up in the corner by a large window.
Jethro passed the choir room without so much as a second glance. He was on his way to the reverend’s office. Perhaps Jethro viewed it as his office now, too, with his new title as top pig.
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