A Perfect Square

Chapter 24




CALLIE LOOKED OUT over the snow-covered mountain and understood instantly they were in trouble.

She glanced to her right and saw a sign with the familiar black diamond shape. Dread filled her stomach, and her pulse began to jump. She had skied green circle slopes and a few blue squares, but she’d never tried a black diamond, and she hadn’t skied at all since right after college. Once she’d begun working as a pharmaceutical rep, there hadn’t been time for vacations. She’d wondered when she was moving to Indiana if there were any ski resorts in the area. Apparently she’d found one.

But where was she?

This black diamond slope was steep and difficult. She glanced behind her again, trying to remember exactly what mountain she was on, and that was when she saw Deborah, Esther, and Melinda.

They, too, wore snow skis and had on ski jackets. Though they had goggles on to protect their eyes against the glare of the setting western sun, they still wore their prayer kapps. Callie wondered if the kapps would blow off when they started down the slope, but then she realized they had bigger problems. All three of her friends still wore their long dresses beneath their jackets.

This was going to be impossible.

They had to find a way off the mountain though, and quickly. The sun was beginning to drop, casting shadows from the woods that bordered both the eastern and western edge of the ski run. It would be dark soon. They didn’t want to ski down in the dark.

Looking overhead Callie caught sight of the ski lifts — the last gondola was barely a dot in the distance. She turned and looked back down the trail again. Now the wind was picking up, throwing snow across the trail and into the trees.

Her three friends scooted forward on their skis, using their poles to carefully navigate through the snow. Callie tried to throw out her arms like her mother used to do in the car when she had to stop suddenly. Callie was certain someone was going to topple over the crest of the hill, and then there would be no stopping them. It was a straight shot down.

But how else would they get home?

Movement in the trees caught Callie’s attention. She turned to look at the exact moment a man stepped out. He wasn’t wearing skis or glasses, which is how she recognized Shane Black.

Her temper flared instantly. She could feel the heat of it even in the cold, but she couldn’t remember why she was angry with him.

He motioned them toward the tree line, toward a trail that she could now see snaking off into the woods.

Callie shook her head, refusing to move, and looked back down at the black diamond slope.

Shane was walking toward them now, yelling something and gesturing toward the woods. Callie didn’t want to go even though she knew it was the right choice, and she knew choosing the slope because he angered her was immature, even dangerous.

She examined the course in front of her, saw that the front half of her skis were hanging over the edge, hanging in the air. All she had to do was lean over.

Except she’d never skied a black diamond before.

Suddenly the horizon tilted. Callie was a child again, running in circles to make the world spin, and spin it did, crazily whirling in a blur of images as the abyss below her opened up, and she began to fall.

Shane pulled her back, his hands on her arms, steadying her and dragging her away from the edge.

Callie looked for Deborah, Esther, and Melinda, but they were already in the woods, standing there waiting with all of their children — nine in all. How would they make it back to the lodge with all the children? They couldn’t possibly carry that many.

Then she saw Max. He barked at her, and Callie knew it was the right thing to go on the trail, to go with Shane.

Except his barking was off. As she skied toward the edge of the woods, skied closer to Max — though it seemed to take many long strides and her legs became terribly heavy — she realized his barking sounded more like a ring.

It was so funny that baby Joshua started clapping his hands.

Callie finally reached the group and bent down to scratch Max behind the ears, to assure him everything would be all right. She thought to quiet his ringing bark, but then she was on the edge of the slope again, and this time she was falling forward …

Callie nearly fell out of bed, catching herself with the blankets tangled around her legs and grasping for Max, who was barking at a fever pitch.

“It’s all right, boy.”

She reached for her alarm to shut it off, but tapping the top button repeatedly did not stop the noise. Peering at the numbers, she finally understood why. “Five a.m.? You must be kidding.”

Then she thought of Deborah and Esther and Reuben sitting in the jail. She jerked her cell phone off the nightstand where she set it to charge each night without looking at the display.

“Hello?”

“Morning, gorgeous. We need to talk.”

“Trent. It’s five o’clock. That’s still night. Call me back when the store opens.”

“I have your information — about the cell phone.”

Callie had crawled back under the covers dragging the phone with her, burrowing deep down so that even her head was beneath the quilt. When she heard his words though, she immediately popped back out. “What?”

“Took me longer than I thought it would. Had to ask for the help of some … outside sources.”

Throwing back the covers, Callie reached for her robe. “So tell me. What did you find out?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Callie had just enough time to grab her robe and house shoes, run a comb through her hair and brush away her night breath — though she didn’t understand why she should care about the last two. She hated to admit it, but she was still off-kilter by the dream, something about skiing and the girls and Shane Black. The whole thing was upsetting, and the idea that a dream could upset her was even more disturbing.

When Trent still wasn’t there, she threw a coat on and hurried Max outside for a quick morning trip to the garden. They were on their way back in when Trent drove up in his old truck.

Callie glowered at him — for making her wait since Saturday, for pulling her out of bed early, for being male. But then he held up a to-go container with two cups of coffee and rattled a paper bag from The Kaffi Shop.

“Margie sent your usual.”

Callie’s glower softened, and she motioned Trent inside.

Callie sat behind the counter and Trent stood. He looked disgustingly fresh for a man who had been up all night, which was obvious from the fact that he hadn’t shaved, his clothes were rumpled, and he was more hyper than Max on a bird hunt. How much coffee had he had?

“I was able to track the SIM card. The phone was purchased at a drugstore in LaGrange.”

“You’re sure?”

“Sure I’m sure.”

“What else?” Callie sipped the coffee, feeling the first hit of caffeine.

“The message was from a man saying that a job was available. Sounded like he was at a factory. You can hear machinery in the background. I called the number, and it was a cell phone with a computerized message. The person never called me back. When I traced that number, it was another disposable, which makes me think it was another Amish person.”

“Why would you think that?”

“They don’t normally sign up for a monthly plan.”

“That’s not true, Trent. Quite a few Amish people conduct businesses, and the bishop has allowed them use of cell phones. In those cases, I’m sure they do have a monthly plan.”

“All right, but if they’re one of these kids who are sneaking around, then they buy it off the rack and maybe they add some minutes to it.”

Callie bit into her muffin and nodded. Deborah had said the same thing to her. Often kids going through their rumspringa would have a cell phone their parents didn’t know about. They’d bring them into town and charge them at their job or maybe at a restaurant or fast-food place while they were eating.

“So you think the other phone might have been a disposable, but you have no proof of that. What else?”

“Like I said, the guy never returned my call, and the disposable number isn’t listed to anyone. All cell phones are listed.”

“Mine’s not. My business number is, but I prefer to have my cell phone number unlisted.”

“It’s not listed to the public, gorgeous. I have a different database.”

She wasn’t awake enough to digest his arrogance, not this early. “Trent, I don’t believe you. That sounds like undercover stuff, and you’re a reporter, not a cop.”

“Believe what you want. We have to have our sources too, or we’d never find out enough to fill a paper. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is to explain why I brought in my source.”

Callie pushed away the last half of her muffin, suddenly no longer hungry. “I should have never given you the phone. I still haven’t heard back from Adalyn, but I’m sure we shouldn’t be sharing possible evidence with every newsman in your iPhone.”

“She works at the phone company, and now I owe her dinner in South Bend. Trust me. This information is good.”

“Was dinner with you a reward or are you punishing the poor woman?” He was worse than arrogant when he was tired. He was also egotistical.

“Gorgeous, this one has been calling me for weeks, but let’s try to stay focused on what she told me about the phone.”

“I don’t think I want to hear any more.” Callie turned her back toward him and opened the cash register, checked to see if she would need any more bills or change in the drawer before she opened the shop for the day.

“She happened to be doing random audits last night and guess what she came across?”

“Ones look good. I’m a little low on fives.”

“She came across our mystery phone’s call. She thought it odd, because there’d only been one call made and one call received on the phone since it was purchased — both to the same place.”

“And now I’m counting change.”

“Don’t you want to know where?”

Callie stopped counting and clapped her hands over her ears. Trent picked up a pen and wrote across the top sheet of her sales flyer in giant letters: RV factory, north of Shipshe. Then he turned and walked out of her shop.

Callie stared at the words for thirty seconds, then ran after him, her robe flying behind her like a cape in the predawn light.

“Give it back. You have to give me that phone back.”

Trent was already opening the door of his truck.

“What if someone in that factory can clear Reuben? We have to take it to Gavin or Black or someone.”

“You must be kidding. I’m not done. I can probably crack this case.”

“Stop it! You’re not the detective. You’re the newsman. Now give it back.” She walked around his truck and closed in on him.

Smiling just enough to make him look like something out of a Clint Eastwood movie, Trent reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the phone, but he held it out of her reach.

Instead of grabbing for it, she stomped on his foot.

“Hey!” He jerked his foot up, and his hands came down.

Callie began prying his fingers away from the phone. “I want it back right now — or I’m going to report a theft.”

“Fine.” He dropped it into her hands as he rubbed his foot. “You don’t have to become violent.”

“And you don’t have to be such a jerk.” She turned and stormed back toward her shop. “You don’t have to always put your headlines above our friends. The way we handle this could have an effect on the outcome of Reuben’s trial. You do realize that, right?”

When Trent only shrugged, she shook her head, slipped the phone into the pocket of her robe and turned back toward her shop.

“You forgot to thank me,” he called after her. “By the way, nice jammies.”

But she barely heard him. She was trying to decide who she should call first — Gavin, Black, or her attorney.

Deborah woke the next day feeling tired, but clearer minded about what she needed to do.

She’d been thrown off her mission by that evil mischief-maker: doubt. Not to mention the days on the calendar were slipping by. Esther’s wedding was in forty-eight hours. Deborah wanted to give her friend the gift of peace — the gift of knowing her life could go on in a normal fashion. The best way to do that was to prove Reuben’s innocence.

Which meant returning to her list.

Fortunately Joshua seemed better after his rough night. She did stop the twins before they headed off to school. “I want to apologize to you about last night. It’s true I don’t want pigs living outside my backdoor, but I lost my temper a bit, and I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right, Mamm.” Jacob tugged on his woolen cap. “We’re going to ask our teacher about it today.”

“Ya. Maybe we can train them back into a pigpen.” Joseph gave her a crooked smile, looking so much like Jonas that it felt as if a hand were pressing on Deborah’s heart. Some of her fear from the night before pushed on the corner of her mind, but she refused to acknowledge it, kissing both the boys instead, and reminding them to wear their jackets. “It’s supposed to grow colder today. You’ll need them.”

Martha and Mary were already out the door and the boys ran to catch up, their lunch boxes banging at their sides.

“Just you and me, kid.” Joshua smacked the cold teething ring she’d given him against the tray of his high chair. His nose was still running, but he seemed to feel better. Well enough that he wouldn’t mind going to town, but first Deborah needed to clean up this kitchen and prepare dinner. She had a long day ahead, and she knew she’d be arriving home at the same time everyone else was hungry.

Before she left, she pulled out the list of possible motives for Reuben’s silence and scanned it one more time.

“One: money.”

“Two: love. Romantic.”

“Three: love. For family or freinden.”

“Four: Ordnung.”

Taking her pen, she crossed out the second and third items. According to his mother, Reuben had said he’d find the right girl when it was time. She knew he wouldn’t lie to Abigail. He might not introduce a new love to his family until he was sure the timing was good, but he wouldn’t lie about her. And the girl was definitely not family.

Abigail had also shared that she’d been asked to look at the pictures, to try to identify the body, and she couldn’t. How could Reuben possibly love a girl he didn’t know? It didn’t seem possible.

Which left two reasons for her to investigate.

No doubt Shane had already talked with these people, but had he asked the right questions? It frustrated Deborah sometimes how closed the Amish community could be. She understood why, knew that they were trying to “circle their wagons.” She’d heard that expression from Callie, and it seemed like a good description. The idea of old covered wagons, pulled up in a circle to draw protection and comfort from one another made Deborah smile as she placed a sleeping Joshua in the backseat of her buggy.

“Have everything you need?” Jonas asked.

“I do.”

He didn’t mention last night, only leaned in and kissed her once, then walked off whistling. It was enough to let her know all was well.

And all would be well in their community also, in spite of their circled wagons. Sometimes though, they needed to let someone else in, between the wagons, someone who could help them. In this case, it seemed that person could be Shane Black. Was Shane their friend or their enemy in this instance? His dedication to his job could prove Reuben’s innocence, but it could also convict him. Those two thoughts felt like a paradox in her head, but she realized they were both true. Shane would do his job — no matter what it meant, no matter who went to jail. But it was his dedication to his job that would lead to Reuben’s freedom. She trusted that as surely as she trusted that Cinnamon would see her safely down the road.

Her first stop was at the bank.

Deborah and Jonas didn’t do a lot of business there, since they tended to pay cash for most things. But she had been depositing the money from her quilt sales into an account, hoping she could build up enough to buy Jonas another workhorse. He never complained, but Deborah knew it would allow him to plant more crops in the spring if he had another. Planting more would mean more harvest — given good rain and a decent growing season.

The small account of quilt earnings had continued to increase.

She helped Joshua out of the buggy, setting the black hat usually reserved for Sundays firmly on his head. Then she reached into the buggy and pulled out a baby quilt she’d finished last summer.

There was a queue in the lobby. She waited in the line so she could talk to one of the tellers and tell them what she needed. When she reached the front of the line, the teller asked her to have a seat until her name was called. After she was seated, she allowed Joshua to walk around the room. Hopefully by allowing him to walk now, he’d use up his energy before they went behind the half wall where Mrs. Barnwell sat.

Mrs. Barnwell.

She was tough, but she understood Amish ways. In fact, she was sort of a bridge between the banking world and the Amish community.

“Deborah?” If anything, Mrs. Barnwell’s gray hair was shorter than the last time Deborah had seen her. She peered at Deborah and Joshua over her reading glasses, then lowered them to her starched white blouse. A thin, small woman, she reminded Deborah of the winter finches she’d had on her windowsill this morning. “Would you like to come back now?”

After they’d settled into chairs, Mrs. Barnwell repositioned her glasses and folded her hands. “What can I do for you today?”

“I was wondering if you could check my balance. I know the teller girls can do that, but we had discussed last time whether it would be best to leave the money where it is or put it into a certificate of deposit.”

“And you were thinking you might need the money in the spring?”

“Possibly, yes.”

Mrs. Barnwell wrote down her balance on a small square of paper and handed it across the desk to Deborah. “The rate of return is somewhat low for under ninety days. If you were able to leave it in for six months it’s a little higher, but then the funds wouldn’t be available until May.”

“I see.” Deborah’s mind searched for a way to prolong the conversation. “Do you have anything in writing I could take home, perhaps to show to Jonas?”

“Absolutely.” Mrs. Barnwell reached into her drawer and pulled out a pamphlet. “This lists the term for each CD and the amount of deposit required.”

“Danki,” Deborah said. Then she spotted the photograph on the bookshelf and remembered the quilt she was holding. “I had heard about your new grandbaby, and I wanted to bring this by.”

“Deborah, you shouldn’t have. I can’t accept this.”

“I always have extra quilts sewn up, which I enjoy giving as gifts.” Deborah was determined to be truthful about this. “You’ve always been helpful to Jonas and me. I want you to have it for the boppli.”

“Well, thank you. It’s quite beautiful.” Mrs. Barnwell’s expression softened as she reached for the quilt. “You do exceptional work. I hope you know that.”

“The Lord gives each of us a talent,” Deborah said gently. “Yours is with numbers. Mine is with fabric.”

“I suppose. There are days I wish I’d chosen something a bit more personal though — something like yours.” Mrs. Barnwell stood and opened a cabinet. Deborah caught a glimpse of her coat and purse. She tucked the quilt inside. “Well, thank you so much for stopping by. If you have any questions about those CDs after you speak with Jonas, let me know.”

“Actually I do have one more question.”

Mrs. Barnwell had already started around her desk, on her way to walk Deborah out. Now she stopped, one hand touching her in-box tray. “Oh. Absolutely. What is it?”

“Perhaps you know that Esther Zook is like a schweschder to me. She and Melinda and I sew the quilts that are offered for sale in Daisy’s Quilt Shop.” Deborah reached over and picked up Joshua, who had been looking contentedly through a picture book. Suddenly she felt the need to hold him in her arms. “Esther is to be married to Tobias this week, and Tobias is — “

“Reuben’s cousin. Yes, I know. I’m sorry to hear about his current situation. What that family’s going through is a shame.”

Deborah strained to hear any other meaning behind Mrs. Barnwell’s words, but if there was anything else there, it eluded her. “I’ve been close to Reuben for years. His farm is near ours. Is it possible, what I mean is …”

She felt the heat crawl up her neck, even as Joshua turned in her lap and pushed his fingers into her mouth. She kissed him once and continued. “Is it possible that he was having any kind of financial difficulties?”

Mrs. Barnwell didn’t answer right away. She sat down in the chair Joshua had been in, took off her glasses, and wiped them clean with the hem of her blouse. Putting them back on, she finally looked at Deborah. “I can’t discuss another customer’s finances with you. That’s against regulations.”

“I see. Of course, I understand.”

She stood and made her way to the doorway of the cubicle. Mrs. Barnwell walked back around behind her desk.

“Deborah.”

“Ya?” Deborah turned around. Mrs. Barnwell was flipping through a stack of envelopes on her desk.

“I have had this statement here for Tobias and Reuben for some time. They asked me to hold their quarterly statements rather than mail them. Heaven knows why. Since you see Tobias fairly often, could you let him know that it’s ready? I thought one of them might stop by, but I haven’t seen either one since September.”

“Ya. Sure. I’d be happy to.”

Deborah set Joshua on the ground, took his hand in hers, and walked him out to the buggy.

Mrs. Barnwell had found a way to tell her what she needed to know. Reuben had been nowhere near the bank in over six weeks, which meant he wasn’t in financial straits. After she placed Joshua into the buggy, she took out her list and marked off the first item.

She looked longingly down the road at the quilt shop, but her last errand was in the opposite direction.

So she murmured to Cinnamon and set off to find Bishop Elam.