The following week, Elsa-May and Ettie went to visit Mildred after they heard the news that all charges against Jacob had been dropped.
“You must feel relieved now that Jacob’s free,” Elsa-May said.
Mildred smiled. “I do. And he’s so relieved now. I’m grateful to the both of you, and your detective friend, for looking into things. Without your help Jacob would be facing trial for murder. And the nice detective said he was going to recommend that our offense be classed a misdemeanor, which he tells me is a good thing. We might have to pay a large fine, but I don’t care. It seems such a little thing now that Jacob has been let off a murder charge.”
“Nice detective? You’re talking about Detective Kelly?” Elsa-May asked.
“Jah,” Mildred answered.
“All’s well that ends well,” Ettie said. “Who would’ve even imagined that Camille would’ve killed herself and deliberately made it look like Jacob did it?” Ettie turned to Elsa-May. “Well, I’d better get you home so you can rest.”
While the two elderly sisters waited down at the end of the driveway for the taxi, Ettie noticed the man next door, Bradshaw. From the distance she was to him, he looked to be the size of her thumb, but she could still see him standing with his feet apart and his hands on his hips, glaring at them.
Elsa-May turned to see what Ettie was staring at. “Ah, the neighbor you were telling me about?”
“Jah, that’s the one.”
“He doesn’t look happy.”
“He wouldn’t be happy now that he knows they’re not selling the farm,” Ettie said.
After Ettie was silent for a while, Elsa-May asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“Do you think that Camille would buy a car if she was about to kill herself?”
“Jah. She had to live like killing herself was the last thing on her mind if her plan was going to work.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
The two elderly sisters weren’t home long when they heard a man’s voice call out through their open front door.
Ettie knew right away that it was Detective Kelly. She let Elsa-May stay knitting while she walked to the door. “Come in, Detective.”
She showed him to the living room and once he’d said hello to Elsa-May, he sat down and faced Ettie. “Mrs. Smith, I want to firstly congratulate you, and secondly apologize to you. I’m sorry for how I’ve acted toward you. The stress of the job makes me go a little crazy sometimes.”
Ettie gave a little laugh.
He shook his head. “I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve. I would’ve been able to solve this thing a lot quicker if I hadn’t been so focused on Jacob being guilty. I’m afraid my team is overworked and we immediately head to the most obvious leads. Anyway, my behavior toward you was unforgivable.”
“Nothing’s unforgiveable,” Elsa-May said, looking over the top of her glasses at him.
“That’s right.” Ettie nodded. “I accept your apology.”
“In a way, I regret getting you involved, and in another, I ask myself what would have happened if I hadn’t,” Kelly said.
Ettie swiped a hand in the air. “You would’ve figured it out. Anyway, we ended up thinking along the same lines about Camille.”
He breathed out heavily. “It seemed too far fetched. Who would’ve thought the woman would’ve set her brother up like that and then killed herself?”
“She was a tortured girl,” Elsa-May said.
Ettie nodded. “Yes, it’s very sad.”
Detective Kelly nodded. “Some criminals are born and others are made. Seems Camille’s early history set her up for a life of violence against herself.”
After everyone was silent for a while, Elsa-May suddenly spoke. “Ettie, make the detective some tea.”
“Do you have coffee?” he asked.
Ettie frowned at him. “I’ve got green tea or lemon tea, Detective.”
“Tea will be fine. You choose which one. I suppose I’ve had enough coffee today.”
Ettie pushed herself to her feet. “I made some lovely brownies today, too.”
The detective patted his stomach. “Just the tea thanks, Mrs. Smith.”
When Ettie brought the tea items back on the tray, she set them on a low table in front of the detective. “How did your promotion go?”
He shook his head. “No good, but I do pride myself on the fact that I guessed that the mother cooked up the scheme about the will.” He picked up some sugar and poured it into his tea. Once he stirred the tea, he brought it to his lips and took a sip. “Now, I hope you might consider being my contact in your Amish community.”
Ettie frowned. “What do you mean? Nothing ever happens in our community.”
He set his tea down on the table. “According to our records, quite a bit happens with you Amish people.”
Ettie pulled her mouth to one side; she was caught in a hard place. She couldn’t trust him like she’d trusted Crowley, but she did want to help people when they were in trouble.
He leaned forward. “Would you consider helping me in whatever way I ask?”
Ettie thought her answer through carefully. “Well, if you need me, and I’m still around, let me know.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that, because I’ve got a little matter that I was hoping you’d help me with, but it’s not exactly police business this time. It will please me enormously if you agree.”
Elsa-May leaned forward. “What is it, Detective?”
A grin broke out on the detective’s face. “Mrs. Smith, would you make me more of your sausage and egg casserole? Perhaps a muffin or two?”
Ettie heaved a sigh of relief and held her hand over her heart while Elsa-May giggled. “You had me worried for a minute,” Ettie said.
“I’ll make you that casserole – mine’s much tastier than Ettie’s,” Elsa-May said.
Ettie opened her mouth at her sister. “Elsa-May!” Ettie then giggled and said, “That’s most likely true, but I’ll bake you some bread and it’ll be the best you’ve ever tasted.”
“Not that you’re boastful or anything like that, Ettie,” Elsa-May said with a crooked grin.
“Exactly. I’m not being boastful, just factual,” Ettie said with a nod of her head.
“Thank you, and since you’re my inspiration to eat healthier, Mrs. Smith, I’d be delighted to taste your bread.” He looked at Elsa-May. “And your casserole.” The detective picked up his tea and took another sip.
Ettie pushed herself to her feet.
The detective screwed up his nose. “Are you sure you don’t have coffee?”
Ettie chortled. “I was just getting up to get you some.”
While Ettie was in the kitchen listening to the low buzz of conversation coming from Elsa-May and Detective Kelly, she reflected on how blessed her life had been. She’d been married for years to a wonderful man before Gott had called him home, and she had many children and grandchildren. Then there was Mildred who’d had so many problems in her life. Camille really had lived a tortured life, which seemed unfair.
Sometimes Ettie got dissatisfied living with Elsa-May and her annoying ways, but now Ettie realized how blessed she really was. Denke, Gott, she said under her breath. There are always others worse off, she thought. Why do some people have it easier than others? Ach, the mind of Gott, who knows it?
Ettie carried a mug of coffee out to Detective Kelly, wondering what kind of inquiries he’d have her make next.
Murder in the Amish Bakery
Ettie Smith Amish Mysteries Book 3
Copyright © 2016 by Samantha Price
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Scripture quotations from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version in the United Kingdom are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crown’s patentee, Cambridge University Press.
Chapter 1
“It happened again, Elsa-May,” Ettie yelled from the kitchen.
“Who’s coming over?” Elsa-May called back from the living room.
Ettie threw down the tea towel onto the kitchen counter and walked into the living room with her hands on her hips. “I didn’t say anyone was coming over. You need to get your hearing checked. I said that the bread sank in the middle again.”
“You don’t have to shout at me,” Elsa-May said setting her knitting in her lap.
Ettie sighed and fell onto the couch. “I don’t mean to be cranky. It’s just that the bread has sunk again, and that’s another batch of wasted ingredients.”
“What do you think is causing it?”
Ettie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve gone through everything I can think of. I haven’t done anything different and you know how good my bread usually is.”
“Jah, your bread is wunderbaar normally.”
“Just when I was going to take a loaf over to Detective Kelly. I told him how good my bread is, and I don’t think he’s ever tasted it before. Has he?” Ettie stared at Elsa-May waiting for an answer.
“Not that I’m aware of. Are you sure you’re not doing anything differently? There must be something that’s affecting it.”
Ettie shook her head. “I just wish I knew what it was. There must be something, but what?”
Elsa-May picked up her knitting again. “I’m not going to be much help to you. I haven’t made bread in years. Not since we moved in together.”
The two elderly sisters had begun living together after both their husbands died.
Elsa-May looked over the top of her glasses at Ettie. “Perhaps it’s the ingredients. Have you bought new ingredients lately?”
“I buy everything in bulk, and I’m working my way down. I’m nearly due to buy more. I haven’t bought anything new at all.”
“Perhaps there’s something wrong with the yeast.”
“Nee. It’s worked for me before.”
“Do we have something wrong with the oven?”
Ettie shook her head again. “The oven is working perfectly.” Ettie bit the inside of her lip while wondering what to do.
“Why don’t you ask Ruth Fuller? See if she’s got any idea.”
“I couldn’t possibly ask Ruth. She’s so busy, and besides, everybody’s always after her bread secrets.”
Elsa-May chuckled. “You wouldn’t be asking her for secrets. You’ll be asking her what you might be doing wrong.”
Ettie raised her eyebrows and considered what her sister had said. She waved a bony finger in the air. “You know, you just might be right.”
Elsa-May smiled while she continued clicking her knitting needles together.
After a moment of silence, Ettie said, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I’m going to call her right now.”
“Good. Why don’t you do just that?”
Ettie took some money out of her bedroom, and then hurried to the shanty that held the telephone down at the end of her street. She placed the money in the tin can, and then dialed the number she had written in her notebook.
Her friend, Ruth, owned the biggest Amish bakery in town and her bread was famous. Everyone wanted to know how she made her bread so tasty and special. Ettie would have to be careful what she said to Ruth; she didn’t want to make it sound like she was after any of Ruth’s bread secrets.
After a few rings, someone answered the phone. “Hello,” a man said.
“Hello. Is this the bakery where Ruth works?”
“Ruth owns the bakery.”
“Yes, that’s what I meant. Is she there at the moment?” Ettie heard a click. Either the person had just hung up on her, or he was heading to find Ruth. Ettie stayed on the line to find out which one.
“Hello, this is Ruth.”
“Ruth this is Ettie, Ettie Smith.”
“Ettie, it’s lovely to hear from you.”
“Denke, Ruth. I have a favor to ask. I have a question about bread.”
“Jah, go on. What is it?”
“I’ve been baking bread exactly the same way for years, and for the last few days, it’s been falling in the center.”
“Sounds like too much yeast or the temperature is too high.”
“Nee. I’m just doing everything the same as I’ve always done it. I haven’t been doing anything differently.”
“Think about it, Ettie, you must be doing something differently if it’s falling in the center now, and it hasn’t been before.”
“I suppose that’s true, but I can’t think what it would be.” There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment.
“Meet me here tomorrow morning and we can talk about it then. I’ve just got to get this last order out and I’m running behind time.”
“Denke. That would be wunderbaar. I don’t want to keep you from your work. I’d love to come and meet you tomorrow morning. What time would you like me to be there?”
“Three.”
“In the morning?”
“Jah that’s what time I always start. The workers get here at four.”
“I’ll be there and thank you again, Ruth. I really appreciate you helping me with all of this.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you at three in the morning, Ettie. Bye-bye now.”
Ettie hung up the phone and wandered back to her house. How was she going to wake up at three in the morning? She and Elsa-May normally woke up around seven to seven thirty. Even when she’d been married and had to get her husband breakfast before he worked on the farm she only woke at five.
Before she reached her house, she saw her neighbor, Bernie, walking toward her leading his dog.
“Good morning, Ettie. How are you?”
“I’m fine, and you?” Ettie reached down to pat the small dog.
“Good, good. How’s Elsa-May doing since she got out of hospital?”
“Fine. As you know she didn’t have a clot at all, but the doctor did tell her to lose weight. He suggested she walk every morning.”
“I haven’t seen her about.”
Ettie shook her head. “I’m afraid she always seems to have an excuse. It’s too cold, it’s too hot, and so forth.”
“She needs a dog. That’ll make her walk. She’ll have to take the dog for a walk.”
Ettie’s dear old dog, Ginger, had died some time ago and another dog had been out of the question ever since. They did have a small back-yard and a dog door. “Interesting idea. I’ll give it some thought. That could be the very thing she needs.”
“I’ve got a friend who works at the dog shelter and he said they just got a lovely Maltese Terrier puppy.”
“Maltese Terrier? What do they look like? Are they the white fluffy ones?”
“Yes. They’re lovely dogs.”
“I don’t think that will do. Elsa-May and I are used to much bigger dogs, farm dogs.”
“Smaller dogs are a lot less trouble. They cost less to feed and their business is a lot smaller. Trust me, they’re a lot less trouble. And it will give your sister a reason to walk and a big dog might be too strong for her.”
“You could be right about that. I’ll give it some serious thought,” Ettie said. “You’ve given me something to think about.”
“Very good. Say hello to Elsa-May for me.”
“Will do,” Ettie called over her shoulder as she opened her front gate. She wouldn’t mention the dog to Elsa-May because she would give a flat ‘no’ regarding having another dog in the house. If she did decide to go ahead with getting another one, it would have to be a surprise. Once Elsa-May saw it, she’d surely fall in love with it.
Elsa-May looked up from her knitting when Ettie walked into the house. “You were a long time.”
“I’ve got some exciting news. Ruth said to meet her at the bakery tomorrow.”
Elsa-May sat up straight in her chair. “What? At the bakery?”
Ettie nodded. “Jah, that’s right. I told her the problem I was having and she said to meet her there tomorrow morning.”
“Why go there? Couldn’t she tell you over the phone what you’re doing wrong?”
Ettie shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know why she wants me to go there; I just agreed.”
“Good for you. You might be able to pick up some secret tips.”
“I just hope she solves the problem of what’s going on with my bread.She said she thought it might be that I’ve got the kitchen too hot, or the bread too hot or something.”
“The weather hasn’t been any hotter, and neither has the kitchen. You’re using the same amount of things that you’re always using, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
Just then they heard a knock, and both turned to look toward the front door. Ettie got up to answer it and saw her young friend, Ava Glick.
“Ava, come in. It’s lovely to see you.”
Ava walked inside. “Denke, Ettie.” Ava gave a little laugh as she walked toward Elsa-May. “Hi, Elsa-May.”
“Hello, Ava. Come and sit with us.”
Ava took a deep breath. “Have you just baked bread? It smells wunderbaar.”
Ettie grunted. “It smells all right, but that’s where it ends.”
Ava turned her attention to Elsa-May. “What are you knitting?”
“I’m always knitting. Lately I’ve been knitting boppli clothes. If I don’t know people having bopplis, I give them to charity.”
“That’s good of you,” Ava said.
“I might as well do something useful with myself.”
“Would you like some tea or kaffe, Ava?” Ettie asked.
“Kaffe denke, Ettie.”
Ettie hurried into the kitchen to make the coffee. She threw the bread in the trash basket in disgust. Once she poured the coffee into the coffee pot, she cut some apple cake and put some gingersnaps on a plate. She took everything in on a tray and placed it in the living room. By the look on Ava’s face, Ettie knew she was there to tell them something.
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