Premeditated Peppermint

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Premeditated Peppermint Page 7

by Amanda Flower


  My eyebrows went up at that comment. Eric had many faults, but his work ethic wasn’t among them.

  “I’m sure Eric understands the pressures you are under, but let’s not forget a woman has died,” I said.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eric smile. I should have kept my big mouth shut. I’d only spoken to correct Linc’s incorrect assumption about Eric. I can’t help myself. I will always go to someone’s defense when they’ve been wronged, even Eric Sharp’s defense, apparently.

  “Who are you?” Linc’s face was bright red.

  I backed away at his gruff tone.

  Before I could answer, Eric spoke up. “Linc, this is Bailey King. I thought you would have recognized her from one of the photographs you’ve seen. She’s the reason we’re here. Not me, not Rocky, it’s Bailey.”

  Linc sucked in a mouthful of air. “I’m so sorry. We’re very happy that you have come on board to be part of this project,” he said, tripping over his words to make amends with me. Under different circumstances, I might have found that amusing.

  “I took a peek in the window of your shop yesterday evening after you had already closed,” Linc went on. “If you had been open, I would have stopped in and introduced myself personally then. It looks like such a charming place, and I just know it will be the perfect setting for part of our shoot.”

  “My shop is charming, but—”

  He adjusted the collar of his coat. “Good, good,” Linc said. “At least something is going right today. We can start the shoot in your shop since activity on the square might not be appropriate to film until all the police vacate the area.”

  “I’m not—”

  Eric interrupted me. “Bailey is happy to help, but I don’t think we will be doing any filming today.”

  “No filming today?” Linc asked. “Are you insane? We only have three days to get this shoot done. We can’t lose an entire day.”

  “Linc, Rocky is dead,” Eric said. “Do you really think we can go on like nothing has happened? Someone has to talk to the network.”

  Linc turned slightly green. “I know that.” He ground his teeth. “And it’s your fault she’s dead.”

  Eric rose to his full height, which was several inches above the squat television producer. “I’m not the one who wanted her job.”

  Linc glared at him. “I wasn’t the one who was dating her.”

  I gasped. He was dating Rocky? This had to be the motive he had been avoiding telling me. If it had been a romance gone bad, that would be more than enough reason for him to strangle her. People have killed for less.

  “Bailey,” Eric said. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  Look at him like what? I wondered. I felt my face was completely blank despite this latest revelation.

  Aiden joined us then. “Mr. Baggins, I would appreciate it if you would return to the ambulance so that the EMTs can check you out further.”

  “I’m fine,” Linc protested.

  “I’m sure you are, but you still need to be checked out by the EMTs.”

  Linc finally relented and stomped to the ambulance bay, where an EMT strapped a blood pressure cuff onto his arm.

  Aiden pulled me aside. “Bailey, go home. If I have any more questions for you, I know where to find you.”

  “What about the Christmas Market and the live nativity? Will those events go on as planned with . . .” I trailed off.

  Aiden sighed. “They will. That’s what the sheriff stopped by to tell me. He said in no uncertain terms that the events will go on as planned. That’s why we have to work so fast to gather evidence. I was, thankfully, able to convince him to close the gazebo for the day, but no longer than that.” He pressed his lips together, clearly not happy with the sheriff’s decision. “Now, please go home so I can finish up here before the market opens.”

  “But—” I started to protest.

  “Please. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I looked from Eric to the gazebo, where Rocky’s body remained. There was no way the police were going to let me inside the gazebo again even if I wanted to go, which I didn’t. Seeing Rocky’s dead body once was more than enough for me.

  “I’ll stop by the candy shop later to check in with you,” Aiden said.

  I looked up at him. “You promise?”

  Aiden smiled. “Have I ever broken a promise to you before?”

  I thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think you have made a promise to me yet.”

  “Yet is the most important word in that sentence,” he replied.

  Chapter 9

  I stumbled across the street to Swissmen Sweets. I was bone-tired. It was a phrase that my daadi used to say when he was exhausted. That was how I felt, as if I was so tired my bones seemed to have turned to licorice and could no longer hold me up. I had been awake for only a few hours, but it seemed like forty-eight at least, so much had happened in such a short period of time.

  I couldn’t get out of my head what Linc had said about Eric dating Rocky. I knew I should have questioned him more about it, but I was just too shocked. I knew it wasn’t because I still had feelings for Eric; seeing him again had proved to me that I didn’t.

  I just was so surprised that he would date someone who was essentially his boss. It was such a risk to his career. Eric was a ladies’ man, and I should have suspected a romance gone wrong. Was I really one to talk? I had dated Eric when he was on the selection committee for Jean Pierre’s replacement at JP Chocolates. I shuddered at the thought. Not one of my proudest moments, but I’d been guilt-ridden over it and I’d certainly resisted Eric for a very long time before we commenced dating. And I could say that we had begun dating long before his involvement in the selection committee. Technicalities, perhaps, but I was going to cling to them, with both hands.

  It was still before ten in the morning, so Swissmen Sweets wasn’t open yet. I put my key in the lock as a voice said, “In trouble again, are you?”

  I looked to my right and found Abel Esh leaning against the outer wall of Esh Family Pretzels smoking a pipe. I should have known it would be Abel. The scent of the sweet tobacco turned my stomach, and I moved so that I was upwind of the smoke.

  I turned the key in the lock, but I didn’t push the door open just yet. Something compelled me to stay and listen to whatever it was Abel had to say even though I knew it wouldn’t be pleasant or complimentary. “What is it, Abel?”

  He chewed on the end of his pipe. “You aren’t being very neighborly with that attitude, Bailey King.”

  I cocked my head. I was tired, cold, sad, and in no mood for any of Abel’s games. “I can’t remember a time when you have ever been neighborly, Abel, so I don’t see why I should be neighborly back.”

  “That’s not very Amish of you.” The pipe moved to the other side of his mouth as he spoke.

  I looked down at my puffy winter coat and dark jeans and boots. “I’m not Amish.”

  He didn’t say anything in reply.

  I shrugged. “If that’s all . . .”

  Abel removed the pipe from his mouth and looked at it. “Another Englischer in Harvest has died because of you. You’re building quite the reputation for that.”

  I stepped toward my shop.

  He shook the pipe out on the sidewalk. Ashes fell to the ground like snowflakes. He pushed off the wall. There was less than a foot of space between me and the front door to Swissmen Sweets, and Abel moved into it, forcing me to step back and blocking my access to my own shop.

  I folded my arms. “Can I help you with anything, Abel? If not, I suggest you get out of my way.”

  “I thought you would want to talk to me.” He smiled.

  “You thought wrong.” I started to move around him toward the door.

  He stepped aside. “Very well. I won’t tell you what I saw on the square last night since it’s not important to you.”

  I froze. After a beat, I looked at him. “You were here last night? Not at your farm?”

  He smiled
as if he knew he had caught me. We both knew he had. There were very few things that could have gotten me to turn around and speak to Abel, but the possibility that he might have witnessed activity on the green related to the murder was one.

  He nodded his head. “There were a lot of comings and goings around the square last night.”

  “Who did you see?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smiled again.

  This was pointless. Able was treating our conversation like a game, a game that I wasn’t interested in playing. “If you aren’t going to tell me, why bother stopping me like this?”

  He smiled.

  I crossed my arms. “You can tell me, or you can tell Deputy Brody.”

  He scowled. “I’m not talking to your Englisch boyfriend.”

  My face reddened. “The deputy is not my boyfriend.” I felt like a fifth-grade girl denying her crush.

  “There is a rumor in the village that the two of you are getting married.” He spat out the words as if he didn’t like the taste of them.

  I snorted. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” I had the uncomfortable knowledge that the rumor had most likely been started by Aiden’s own mother.

  “I could give you the same advice.”

  “So I shouldn’t believe what you are about to tell me. Then there’s really no reason I should be talking to you right now.” I took another step toward my door.

  He frowned. “I was working late at the pretzel shop,” he said, speaking quickly now. “One of the ovens broke, and I promised Esther that I would fix it a week ago. She had been barking at me about it for days, so I finally made the time.”

  I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying that Abel should do more to help his two sisters at the pretzel shop. I really didn’t know what he did for work other than odd jobs around the village. The three siblings had inherited the shop from their parents years ago, but from where I stood, it looked like Esther and Emily did all the work to keep the family business afloat and Abel showed up only when it suited him.

  I swallowed. “Who did you see on the square?”

  “The red-haired woman. The one they are saying died. She was moving around the square a lot. There were a couple young Englischers there too, but it was clear that she was in charge.”

  “How many were there? Can you describe them?”

  He exhaled into the cold air. Thankfully, I was still upwind and couldn’t smell his breath. I willed myself not to wave the cloud away. He wanted a reaction from me, and I wasn’t going to give it to him.

  “It was really too dark,” he said. “And by the way they were dressed, it was hard to tell if they were men or women.”

  He looked me up and down. I was wearing jeans, a green puffy coat, a turquoise scarf, and matching gloves.

  “See, they were dressed like you. No one would know you were a woman from far away.”

  I frowned, but again I didn’t say anything. Abel was just trying to get a rise out of me, as my daadi would have said. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  When I didn’t take the bait, he said, “In any case, they were still there when I left our shop at nine. By the looks of it, I think they were going to be there for a while after that. I didn’t stick around to watch. I have no interest in the comings and goings of Englischers.”

  That was an interesting thing for him to say since he had given me an almost full spy report on them.

  “Everyone you saw coming and going on the square was English? You didn’t see any Amish? Weren’t there Amish getting ready for the Christmas Market?”

  “It was far too late for any Amish to be out.” He said this as if even the suggestion was an insult. “Now, you tell all that to your boyfriend, and make it clear I have no interest in talking to him about it. I have no use for the police.” He stepped away from me in the direction of the pretzel shop, giving me free access to my front door.

  I told him that I would tell Aiden, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Aiden was a thorough cop, and he would want to interview Abel himself.

  I thanked Abel, but before I turned away I saw the curtain move inside the pretzel shop and caught a glimpse of Emily’s heart-shaped face. She was frowning. My heart constricted when I saw her. Emily’s face disappeared, and the curtain in the pretzel shop window fell back into place.

  Abel looked behind him and then back at me. He smiled. “Emily is no longer a member of your fan club. You can’t charm everyone in this village. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

  I turned away from him and stepped through the front door to Swissmen Sweets without a backward glance.

  Nutmeg met me at the door. He meowed, demanding attention and possibly complaining because I hadn’t let him out to run to Emily. I picked up the cat, and some of the guilt I felt over the situation with Emily dissipated. Emily had been the one to give me Nutmeg, or, more accurately, to beg me to take the kitten when her brother said she had to get rid of him. I would think of a way to help the girl. I’d make it up to her somehow. I set the cat back on the hardwood floor.

  I removed my gloves and clenched and unclenched my hands. Even with my gloves, my hands were cold from standing outside in the chilly air for the past couple of hours. Nutmeg rubbed at my ankles. I bent down and picked up the purring animal a second time. I buried my freezing fingers deep into his warm fur. The cat looked up at me and licked the tip of my nose. He always seemed to know how to make me feel better.

  Maami and Charlotte came through the swinging door that led to the shop’s industrial kitchen. My grandmother had flour on her apron, and Charlotte had a smear of chocolate on her prayer cap. It was a sure sign that the two of them had been working in the kitchen the entire time I was gone. Through the picture window, we had a clear view of everything that was happening on the square.

  “Bailey, what is going on? We came out to fill the display case with trays of candies just a little bit ago and saw that the square is crawling with police,” Maami said breathlessly.

  I started flipping over the chairs in the front of the shop so that people could sit down and enjoy one of our sweet treats if they chose to. In winter, business was slower, but it picked up the closer we got to Christmas, or at least that’s what my grandmother told me. It was my first Christmas at Swissmen Sweets. As of yet, I had not seen a large increase in business.

  I put the last chair on the floor and told them what had happened.

  Charlotte stared out the window. “That pretty woman is dead. She was so—” She searched for the word. “So lively. She looked like she was invincible to me. Like she could do anything. Like women in the movies.”

  Maami gave Charlotte a look. Although Charlotte had left her strict Amish district to be a part of Maami’s New Order Amish one, watching movies was still frowned upon. However, even though she was twenty-one, Charlotte still hadn’t been baptized in the church. She’d left her district for the love of the organ, which she played beautifully. Her old district would not let her play the musical instrument. Maami’s district did not care about that, but as of yet, Charlotte had not made the full commitment to Amish life by being baptized, and as long as she remained unbaptized, she was in rumspringa, which meant she could do things like watch movies without getting into too much trouble. We all knew that there was a time coming soon when Charlotte would have to decide whether she wanted to be fully Amish or fully English. The Amish did not look kindly upon anyone who straddled the fence for too long.

  “No one is invincible,” Maami said. “Only the good Lord.” She turned to me. “Does this mean these TV people will leave and go back to wherever they came from? I’m sure there are many Amish in the village who would be relieved if they did.”

  I winced. “Have you heard from the bishop or Deacon Yoder about Swissmen Sweets being part of the show?”

  Maami sighed. “The deacon’s wife, Ruth, telephoned and said she would be over before the Christmas Market. She will tell me the district’s decision then
. As you know, both the bishop and deacon are quite elderly. They no longer like to drive their buggies if there is a chance of snow.”

  The snow was falling steadily outside, so there was clearly far more than just a chance.

  “Why didn’t Ruth just tell you on the telephone, then? Does she really want to come to the village in this weather?”

  Maami smiled. “Nee, she’d much rather make a huge production out of it and hold us in suspense. Even if that means driving her husband’s buggy through the snow.”

  I shook my head. I knew that we hadn’t gotten the official word just yet, but I would be shocked if the district elders agreed to the filming. It would be such a missed opportunity for the shop. I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to say this to my grandmother. This was her shop and should be run the way she saw fit even if I didn’t agree. Besides, I really didn’t know how the TV special could go on after what had happened to Rocky. I felt sick. How could I be so callous and worry about a missed opportunity when a woman was dead? Perhaps I was more like Eric than I was willing to admit.

  “Maybe Ruth will surprise us and say it’s all right. I don’t think the show was going to focus on the Amish much. Other than being taped here and including Amish recipes. In any case, I don’t think the show will be able to go forward. They can’t film here under the circumstances. I doubt the network would like the bad press.”

  “I am sorry that the woman was killed; that is truly awful, and I will pray for her family,” Maami said. “But I sensed that there would be trouble from this. There would be many Amish in Harvest that would like the television filming never to start.”

  Maami had just given me the idea that perhaps the murder hadn’t been committed by someone from the production crew as I’d first suspected. It was very possible it had been committed by someone right here in Harvest, someone who would do whatever it took to shut down the production of a television show that might disparage the Amish community in the village. I found that prospect much more chilling.

  Chapter 10

 

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