chapter 9
DEBORAH DIRECTED HER BROWN MARE, Cinnamon, into the parking lot of Daisy’s Quilt Shop just as the downtown clock was striking noon. As she pulled in, she remembered she was supposed to have called first. Well, obviously the shop was open, so no harm done. She’d hoped to arrive an hour earlier, but Joshua had put her behind schedule. Her two-and-a-half-year-old had decided to pull off his diaper and run around the house naked, which had resulted in not one but two accidents. It was definitely time to potty train her youngest, and she intended to — soon. But festival weekend wasn’t the ideal time.
Joshua smiled and put two chubby hands on her face as she lifted him out of the buggy.
“We see Callie?”
“Yes, sweetie. We’re going to see Callie.”
“We see Max?”
“Yes, we’ll see Max, but you be gut. Keep your pants on, young man.”
Joshua patted her cheeks. “Pants on.”
“Exactly.” She wondered again if she should have accepted Martha’s offer to come along, but Deborah knew her oldest had actually wanted to play with her cousins. The Fall Festival was an exciting weekend in Shipshewana. It didn’t seem fair to stick Martha with babysitting instead.
Jonas had assured her he would see that the children finished the day’s chores before noon, before Miriam, Deborah’s closest sister, arrived to take the children into town. His last words to her before she left had been, “Help your freinden, but be careful in the crowds, Deb.” A soft touch, and then he was gone to work in the fields. He’d join them in town later that afternoon.
So though she could have used Martha’s help, she knew her daughter would have more fun playing and attending the festival with her cousins.
She placed Joshua on the ground, pulled his wool cap down so he wouldn’t lose it, then reached for his hand as he toddled toward the front door of Callie’s shop. The parking lot was full in spite of last night’s excitement. A ribbon of yellow crime-scene tape at the far side of the lot was the single telltale sign of Mrs. Knepp’s murder.
Deborah guided Joshua down the crowded sidewalk, under the berry-colored canopy that shaded the windows, and up to the front door of the shop. She had barely reached for the handle of the door when Callie pulled it open, causing the bell to ring merrily.
“You can’t come in,” she said.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. Read the sign. Things are crazy, and I had to make some new guidelines. You understand.”
“Understand —”
“It’s on the sign.” Callie pointed at a handwritten sheet of paper taped to the front door, as she emphasized the word sign, like it held some special meaning. Then she began to push the door shut.
“What … Wait. What are you doing?”
Joshua reached forward and tugged on Callie’s jean skirt. “Max? Joshua see Max.”
“I’m sorry, Deb. It’s just for this weekend.” Something like regret and a steely stubbornness shot through Callie’s eyes, then she nudged Joshua out of the way, back into Deborah’s dress, before slamming the door shut, rattling the glass.
Deborah was left standing on the stoop, gazing at the sheet of paper that read, “No children under three years of age permitted in store during Fall Crafters’ Fair.”
She read it again, but the words didn’t change.
What in the world?
Why was this sign on Callie’s door?
Why had her friend shut the door in her face?
Two Englisch women murmured apologies and brushed past Deborah, into Callie’s shop.
Deborah wanted to stamp her foot. She wanted to march inside and demand to know what was going on. Instead she reached down, picked up Joshua, and made her way back to her buggy, to Cinnamon, and — she supposed — to home.
Except she didn’t want to go home.
The festival was in full swing around her. So she found herself on the sidewalk, in the growing crowd of people, moving toward downtown.
What could have come over Callie?
Deborah had never seen her act rudely before.
Her mind raced back over the previous night. Joshua hadn’t even been with her. He’d been home with Jonas and the twins. Martha had been at the shop with Aaron and Matthew. Had that been the problem? Too many children in the store?
But the sign had specifically said “No children under three years of age.” And only for this weekend!
Deborah was so deep in thought, so busy trying to puzzle out the abrupt change in Callie’s behavior, and at the same time so busy trying to weave her way through the crowd while holding onto Joshua, that she practically ran into a chain-saw carver walking straight toward her.
Wearing an unbuttoned plaid shirt, the T-shirt underneath read “Will carve for food.” He was carrying a small chain saw and wore a ball cap that boasted a handsaw and covered badly kept hair that fell to his shoulders. Unshaven stubble added to his already unkempt look and sideburns stretched down to his jawline.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, stepping around him.
But instead of allowing her to pass, he reversed direction and fell into step beside her. “Mind if I walk with you?”
The voice was familiar, but it didn’t match —
“Don’t stare,” Shane murmured. “Keep walking until we reach my booth.”
“Your booth?” Deborah’s voice squeaked, causing a few people to turn and stare.
“I’m a chain-saw carver. Can’t you tell?”
“You know how to chainsaw?”
“I live in Indiana. I’m a man. I can chainsaw.”
“But why —”
“Just keep walking.”
“I think I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole Martha read about in school.” Deborah hugged Joshua to her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk so the pedestrian traffic streamed around her like water in a river flowed around a large boulder.
“Don’t stop, Deborah. We need to act normal. It’s just a little farther.”
She looked into his eyes then, and when she did, the times they’d depended on each other surged forward in her memory. His disguise fell away, and she was no longer in the midst of a crowd, confused and jostled up against a person she didn’t recognize. Instead she was standing next to someone she could trust — she was standing beside her friend.
“Ya, okay. I can do that.”
Five minutes later they were at his booth. Joshua was seated in the corner, playing with a toy truck someone had carved, and she was listening to Shane explain what had happened to Callie, how they were going to help her, and what they needed to do to catch Mrs. Knepp’s killer.
The entire story sounded insane.
“You believe me. Don’t you?” Shane’s voice was urgent, and his eyes pinned Deborah to the stool she was perched on.
“I suppose. Yes. But Shane, why can’t you simply call in more help? Take Callie out of the shop if they’re watching her. Take her somewhere she’ll be safe. Then catch this terrible person some other way.” She ran her hand up and down one of the strings of her prayer kapp, knowing she wasn’t going to like his answer.
“I almost did.” Shane scratched the sideburns that must have been fake but certainly looked real. He hadn’t shaved either, that much was evident. It occurred to her that he probably hadn’t rested at all since the 9-1-1 call she’d placed the night before. “I almost insisted she close the shop and come into protective custody. She didn’t want to, but I could have found a way to force her. And I still would, except for Aaron.”
When a couple stopped to watch him carve, he held up his chain saw and smiled at them. “Booth will open in another hour, folks.”
They nodded and moved on.
“Whose booth is this?”
“Don’t worry about it. I paid him to rent it to me when I need it. He’ll show back up when I text him.”
Deborah closed her eyes, trying to make Shane’s words come together in some pattern, trying to make them make sense. Opening her eyes, she checked once more on Joshua, then scooted her stool closer to Shane, lowering her voice. “What is your worry about Aaron? That he’s a witness?”
“Yes. And the person who killed Mrs. Knepp, tranq’d Max, and called Callie last night also directly threatened Aaron. It wouldn’t take him fifteen minutes in this town to figure out where Aaron lives.”
“You could hide Aaron too, at least until you catch this man …” Deborah’s voice wavered as she realized what she was suggesting.
“Do you think Melinda and Noah would allow that? Would they hide as well? You understand the Amish mind-set better than I do, Deborah, but as much as I’ve worked with them, I’d guess no. I don’t think they would. I believe they’d say —”
“They’d say it’s Gotte’s wille, that they’re under Gotte’s protection.” Deborah stared at her son, rolling a wooden truck back and forth. “They’d say that they’re safer where they are than trusting Englischers.”
“So you agree my plan is the best way?”
Deborah studied Shane closely then. His disguise couldn’t hide his piercing black eyes, haggard expression, and the intensity that he didn’t know he possessed. His plan was rather crazy, but it might work.
Except for one thing.
One thing he didn’t realize, but she did. It was as clear as the feeling of excitement going through the crowd that passed his wood-carving booth. Shane Black had fallen in love with Callie Harper.
When had it happened?
Her mind sifted back through the months since Callie had arrived in town, flipped through them like so many pages in a book. She supposed it didn’t matter when he had crossed the line from dealing with her as a detective to being her friend to hoping their relationship would grow more intimate. What mattered was that this man cared about one of her best friends. He cared about her deeply.
He’d do his job, and he’d do it professionally.
He’d find a way to protect both Callie and Aaron.
And she had no doubt he’d find a way to bring the man and woman who were responsible for this awful situation to justice.
But would he understand that the weight he was carrying was his love for the woman working in the shop a half-mile down the road?
That was something Deborah wasn’t so sure about. As she gathered Joshua and hurried back to Cinnamon, hurried to carry out her portion of Shane’s plan, she also realized it was something that would have to wait.
“You want to go, don’t you?” Matt’s voice didn’t leave much room for arguing. It was more a statement than a question.
They were making their way back from the pond. Aaron held the fishing rods out in front of him, as if he were still planning on reeling one in. He studied the rods and took his time answering.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“What’s there to think about? It’s the biggest day of the year. Chain-saw carvers, musicians, more food booths than last night, cloggers, painters —”
“I remember what’s all there.”
“Not to mention everyone from school.”
“Ya.” Truthfully Aaron did want to go. At least he didn’t want to stay home, which was the same as wanting to go. Wasn’t it?
“So what’s the problem?”
Matt stopped wheeling, stopped while they were still out of range of the house. His mamm would be gone already, gone to help at the quilt shop more than likely. His dat would be working near the barn, watching for them. They needed to wash up and then they could be on their way.
“So what’s the problem?” Matt asked again.
“There’s not a problem. Not really.” Aaron ran his hand over the wheel of his chair. He liked the way it felt. He enjoyed the warmth of it and even the way it picked up dirt from the trail.
Matt began pushing the chair again, pushed it to their spot — a place near the top of the hill. A place where they could see nearly all the homestead but still feel hidden. Once he’d pushed the chair into the shade of the huge old tree, Matt moved around in front of him and sat on a large rock that had been there for as long as Aaron could remember.
“I know you better than anyone, Aaron. Maybe better than you know yourself. So what is it? What haven’t you told them yet?”
Aaron thought about keeping it in, but somebody needed to understand the danger he was up against. What if the man came back and killed him and hid his body? No one would find out what had happened.
He should tell someone — someone he could trust.
He should tell his bruder.
Plus, Matt always seemed to know what to do.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the words out. “He saw me.”
His bruder didn’t question him, didn’t laugh, didn’t even answer right away. Instead he looked out over their family’s farm.
Thought on it for a good minute or two.
“I didn’t move, didn’t make any noise, but Max was with me, and he was pretty upset. I think he smelled death. Do you think that’s possible?”
“Sure. Animals have instincts like that.”
“He started barking like crazy, went wild like he had to scare the man away from his territory.”
“The man looked up?”
“Ya.”
“And he looked at you.”
Aaron nodded.
“Now think about this, Aaron. Maybe he didn’t notice you were sitting in a wheelchair. Maybe he just saw a kid sitting. You were close to that bench.”
Aaron’s mind slid back to the night before, to the way he’d wheeled the chair out so that he could see better.
“Probably he did see the chair.”
“All right.” Matt didn’t move, continued to think on it awhile. Finally he asked, “And you didn’t tell the officers this?”
“No. Mamm was right there the entire time. You know how she is, barely leaving my side, as if I’m going to fall over or something. She’d have croaked of a heart attack if I’d admitted the man looked right at me after he attacked Mrs. Knepp.”
Matt nodded. “Probably you’re right. It was gut thinking to protect our mamm. She’s got plenty enough to worry on what with all the work she does here and the quilting and boppli Hannah.”
Some of the tightness melted out of Aaron. He’d wondered if he’d done the right thing. Though he was still plenty scared, it helped to have his bruder agree with what he’d done.
Matt stood up and began pushing the chair again.
“That’s why I wasn’t sure if I should go to the festival or not. Think we should talk to Dat about it?”
“Could. If things get any worse we will. Right now, he has his hands awful full with the crops. I’d hate to bother him if we don’t have to.”
Aaron looked over at the fields as they drew closer to the barn. His dat was a hard worker. He wondered what it would be like to be able to drive the horses the way his dat did, to be able to work in the fields and carry the bags of feed without it hurting his chest at all. The last thing he wanted to do was add to his dat’s troubles. “Maybe I should stay home, pretend I have a stomachache or something. Just until Shane is able to catch him.”
“Nein. Him seeing you, that’s all the more reason for us to go to town, wander around the festival a while.” Matt’s voice took on a hard sound, like it did whenever one of the kids at school tried to give Aaron a hard time. Didn’t happen often anymore, but sometimes, when a new person moved in, Matt sounded that way for a day or so. Then things settled down.
Aaron wondered if this was the same. He wondered if his bruder could handle the man who’d been outside Callie’s shop.
“We need to go to town,” Matt repeated. “That’s exactly what we need to do. We need to find out if this guy is still hanging around, and if he is — we need to decide what we’re going to do about it.”