A Perfect Square (12 page)

“Did it help you any when you talked to Black?”

“Well, no, not really, but — “

“Then why do you think it would help Reuben?”

“This is different.”

“Perhaps it is. Perhaps it isn’t. I have to trust that my cousin knows what he’s doing.”

Callie opened the cash register drawer, picked up a roll of pennies and cracked them open, emptying the contents as she spoke. “That’s it? We trust him? Isn’t there something we can do while we wait?”

“I’m doing what he told me: marry Esther and take care of the farm. Haven’t heard that he left you any instructions.” His gaze traveled to Callie’s framed picture as Esther walked back into the room.

This was twice in the last week that someone had drawn her attention to Stakehorn’s case — a case that she and Deborah hadn’t actually solved. They’d survived it, but it wasn’t actually fair to say they’d solved it.

Okay, maybe they’d helped to solve it.

Callie walked the happy couple out to their buggy. They’d climbed in by the time she thought to ask Tobias about Mr. Bontrager.

“
Ya
, Esther told me you met him, but I don’t remember anything about a
dochder.”

“I asked my
mamm
as well, Callie. She did know Mr. Bontrager’s wife, but not well. They attended church in the next district. She didn’t know anything about a missing girl — said perhaps she’d met Mrs. Bontrager after the son was born.”

“Sorry we can’t be more help.” Tobias flicked the reins and set the buggy in motion.

Waving, Callie waited until the buggy was out of sight, then retrieved Max and brought him back into the shop. She tried to focus on Reuben, tried to think of what she could possibly do to
help with his case. But as she went to the stockroom and brought out a box of quilting kits to unpack, her mind kept going back to Mr. Bontrager and a daughter that he might have lost. If Mr. Bontrager’s son didn’t remember having a sister, then apparently the girl had been missing for over forty years.

I
T TOOK
D
EBORAH TWENTY-FOUR HOURS
to decide how best to proceed with helping Reuben. Saturday, after seeing to lunch for her family, she pulled out the list she had made in the quilt shop — the list of reasons Reuben might insist on keeping quiet.

Callie had been right.

There weren’t many explanations for Reuben’s silence, not when a brief explanation could gain his freedom.

Deborah sipped her warm tea, then tapped her pen against the paper. Had she missed anything?

“One: money.” Did Reuben need money? Was this girl somehow blackmailing him for money? Did she somehow threaten his ability to keep the farm?

“Two: love.” She took her pen and wrote beside this the word
Romantic
with a question mark. Had Reuben been in love with the young girl in the pond? Seemed unlikely.

“Three: love. For family or
freinden
.”

“Four:
Ordnung
.”

This last would be harder to explain to anyone outside their faith, but if Reuben felt it was the right thing to do to remain silent, the moral thing to do, then he would. Much as Esther had remained silent when Seth had died, though she had known
almost immediately which boys were responsible. But then Esther hadn’t been in danger of losing her own freedom. The
Ordnung
did not require this. Again Deborah put a question mark.

She couldn’t think of any other reasons to add to the list, so she folded it and put it inside her handbag. Then she called Martha into the kitchen.

“Yes,
Mamm
?”

“I need to run errands in town. I’ll be taking Mary and Joshua. Would you like to come with us?”

“‘Course I would. What about the twins?”

“Went with your
dat
to pick up new pigs.”

“New ones? What happened to the old ones?”

“Nothing happened to them. Your father thinks we need more this winter. Actually he thinks your
bruders
need more responsibility, so he’s adding a few more animals.”

“I wish he’d asked me about that first. I would not have picked pigs.” Martha walked out of the room shaking her head, and Deborah found herself laughing even as her mind went back over the list.

Why was she so sure that Reuben was holding back something? Could be he was silent because he had nothing to say.

Then it came to her, as quickly as a bird lighting on a tree limb. She remembered the thing she’d pushed to the back of her mind. When she’d first gone to fetch Reuben, when they’d first discovered the dead girl, there had been the briefest of seconds when his eyes had grown wide, he had gone pale, and a deep sadness — like a shadow — had passed over his face. It had occurred so quickly, Deborah was surprised she’d caught it and remembered it at all.

There was no doubt at all that he’d known the girl.

His expression hadn’t been one of shock or surprise like Deborah had felt. It was the look of someone who’d seen something precious ripped away.

In that split second, Deborah had seen Reuben’s grief.

The question was — grief over what? The girl’s death? The fact that she was found? What did the girl’s death mean to Reuben?

“
M-Ma-Ma-Mamm.
” Joshua tugged on her dress, one arm wrapped firmly around her leg.

“I don’t think she can hear you. You need to learn to be patient when
Mamm
’s concentrating on something else, at least that’s what
Dat
says.” Martha offered Joshua his favorite stuffed bear, but he turned away and buried his face in Deborah’s dress.

“It’s all right. I was just remembering something.”

“Something important?” Martha helped Mary gather up her books and put them in a small backpack as they all made their way out the front door.

“Could be. I hope so.”

“
Dat
says when you get that look on your face, we should try to wait or come back around later. He says you’re puzzling things out.”

“He does, does he?” Deborah reached over to straighten the prayer
kapp
worn by her eldest as they continued walking. The child was growing up too fast.

“
Ya
. He also says I act exactly like you at times.”

“Hmm. I’m sure that was a compliment.”

“I don’t know. He said it after I’d poured hummingbird water into the pot on the stove that was for tea.”

Deborah helped the children into the buggy Jonas had hitched up before he left for town. “Yes, I suppose I remember doing that once before.” Deborah climbed into the buggy’s front seat. “It’s merely sugar and water though. I told your
dat
I was saving him the trouble of adding the sugar to his tea afterward.”

She clucked to Cinnamon and turned the mare toward town. Deborah had three stops to make. Best hurry if she was to be back before dark.

Her first stop was Reuben’s parents. They lived on the piece of
land next to Tobias’ parents — the fathers were brothers. Deborah had known the family all her life, though she’d spent more time with the women than the men.

“Why did we bring the apple crisp pie?” Mary held it in her lap as if it were a dozen eggs.

“Always nice to bring a gift, especially when a family is experiencing trouble.”

“I like pie, but I don’t want to have trouble to get it.” Mary rubbed her hand under her chin, then looked to her
mamm.
“Is that a terrible thing to say?”

“Not at all, and I left a pie for us at home, cooling on the counter.”

“
Gut.
Smelling this is making me awfully hungry.”

“You ate lunch not an hour ago,” Martha reminded her.

“I’m growing though — same as Jacob and Joseph.”

Deborah pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the rambling farmhouse. “It’s a warm day for October. I’d rather you children play on the porch while I speak with Reuben’s parents. I shouldn’t be long.”

Martha took the younger children to the rockers at the corner of the porch as Deborah knocked on the door. Five minutes later she was sitting at the table with a cup of tea.

“So you never met the girl?” Deborah asked.

“Never even saw her. We’d been hoping Reuben would find a nice Amish girl, but he kept saying it wasn’t
Gotte
’s time yet.” Abigail Fisher was nearly as round as she was tall, and it was plain from the redness of her eyes that she’d spent the last few days crying over her son’s predicament.

“Abigail, excuse me for being so bold, but I’m trying to help Reuben — “

“I thought that woman was helping him, that lawyer.”

“
Ya
. I’m sure she is. Adalyn Landt is a good lawyer, and she’ll help Reuben every way the
Englisch
legal system allows
her to, but there’s something here that doesn’t add up. It’s puzzling me a bit. I don’t understand why Reuben won’t make a statement. Why he won’t say what happened and how he knows the girl.”

Tears tracked down Abigail’s cheeks as she nodded her head. “I know. I don’t understand either. Reuben’s always been the stubborn one, but this doesn’t make any sense. It’s probably the reason people are saying the things they are — “

“Saying what things?”

But Abigail shook her head and refused to speak more on the subject.

She did walk Deborah out to the buggy and say hello to the children.

“Did you like our pie, Mrs. Fisher?”

“Yes, Mary. Thank you for that. Mr. Fisher will be very pleased, as I haven’t done much baking this week.”

Deborah climbed up into the buggy, then tried one more question. “Abigail, when was the last time you saw Reuben?”

“It’s same as I told the police fellow, that Mr. Black. Reuben came by the house the Saturday before the body was found. Asking if his
dat
knew anywhere that was hiring for work.”

“Work?” Deborah looked out across the fields and thought about what Tobias had told her about staying in town and covering double shifts. “But wasn’t he having trouble keeping up at the farm, what with no help from Tobias?”

Abigail sighed, scrubbed at her cheeks again with the handkerchief. “Makes no sense, no more sense than anything else, anyway. Daniel told him the only places hiring wood craftsmen were the RV places up by the toll road.”

“So he wasn’t looking for work here in Shipshe?”

“I don’t know, Deborah. I wish I could be more help. He seemed pleased with the answer, I do remember that, as he slapped his
dat
on the back and said the toll road would be fine, said it
wasn’t but a twenty-minute ride with a driver. When has Reuben ever hired a driver?”

“When indeed.” Deborah nodded, then thought of one more thing. “This might seem personal, but it could help us. Has Reuben ever been
in lieb
?”

Abigail smiled, though there was no happiness in it. “Once. He cared about her for sure, but they were so young. Reuben was like a young bull then, unable to control his emotions at all. One minute he’d be in a tear, angry about something. I never knew what. The next moment he’d be like he is now — quiet, sweet, and solid.”

“Reuben?”

“
Ya
. I know. It’s hard to imagine.”

“Why don’t I remember this?”

“He’s older than you are.”

“Just a few years.”

“Well. Some things you can’t really know unless you’re inside a family.”

Deborah thought on that. “What happened to the girl?”

“Came down with the fever. She died the same year they were courting.”

Deborah left then, steering the mare down the road, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together, but what she’d learned at the Fisher place had added more confusion to Reuben’s case. As she drove into town, Deborah wondered if she should stop by Adalyn’s office and tell her what she’d learned, but that was when the quilt shop came into view and she realized Callie was standing at the side of the road, waving to her frantically.

Callie had been trying to track down Deborah for the last hour. It wasn’t easy to locate an Amish person. Well, it wasn’t as hard as you might expect — considering they didn’t have telephones. If
you could reach one person, they seemed to know a piece of useful information, and then it was only a matter of following it to the end.

In this case, she’d reached Tobias’ sister at the shop where she worked. Tobias’ sister had just talked to her cousin, who herself had come in from the farm moments before and had seen Deborah’s buggy there.

Callie guessed that Deborah was having a cup of tea with Abigail and would be heading into town next. Then it became a matter of waiting for her friend’s buggy to pass by.

“Callie. What are you doing?” Deborah pulled into the quilt shop’s parking lot, looking at her as if she were crazy.

“I need to talk to you. Are you sure you can’t get a cell phone or a pager or maybe a walkie-talkie?”

Martha, Mary, and even Joshua crowded toward the front of the buggy, all shaking their heads no, though Martha asked: “What’s a pager?”

“Can we go and see Max, Mamm?” Mary asked.

Joshua fairly bounced on the seat.

“We promise to stay clean,” Mary added.

“I’ll watch them,” Martha offered. “And it will give Joshua a chance to run off some energy.”

“Best let them go. We need to talk.”

“Well, all right. But I still have two more errands and can’t stay long.”

“You’re going to want to hear this. Or rather see it.”

Callie practically yanked Deborah into the shop.

Deborah looked surprised to see that several customers were shopping in the buttons and trinkets aisle. “You left customers so you could stand at the side of the road?”

“Lydia’s here, and I needed to catch you.” Callie made sure Lydia was at the register, then tugged Deborah into the small kitchen. “Esther and Tobias were by earlier. Tobias left this here by mistake.”

She shoved a long, black woolen coat into Deborah’s hands, then collapsed on the room’s single stool and immediately began chewing on her thumb nail.

“So they were here — “

“To invite me to their wedding.”

“And he left — “

“That coat!” Callie stood and began pacing the tiny room.

Deborah took her place on the stool. “All right. You’ve officially lost me.”

“I saw him put it on the counter when Esther went to the restroom, but then I forgot about it. I got busy with Max and restocking.” Callie paced as she spoke, her arms crossed and her fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on her arm. “Lydia came in later and spotted the coat. She gave it to me, but I don’t think she looked in the pockets. I’m sure she didn’t.”

Stopping midstride, Callie turned to face Deborah. “I wasn’t sure whose it was, but I’m sure it had to have been left today. I always clean up at night when I close the shop. The only man who came in today was Tobias, so when I saw it, saw that it was a man’s coat, I was sure it was his, but I checked to see if there was any identification in it.”

Deborah waited, but didn’t say anything.

“Look in the pocket,” Callie prodded.

Unfolding the coat, Deborah reached into the right pocket. It was empty.

“Other one.” Callie moved closer, until their heads were nearly touching, bowed over the coat.

Deborah put her hand into the other pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Sleek and black, it was obviously brand new, without a scratch on it. She held it in the palm of her hand as if it had the power to strike out and bite her should she close her fingers around it.

“This belongs to Tobias?” Deborah’s voice was a whisper.

“I don’t know.”

Deborah turned the coat over, studied the collar, ran her finger along a tear in the seam. “What would be the odds that two coats would have a tear in the same exact spot?”

“Slim. Why?”

“Because Reuben’s coat had a tear here. I noticed it at the last church meeting. The meeting was at our house, and I took his coat from him when he came in. I noticed the tear then and offered to mend it for him. I took care of it the next day and returned it to him. I’m sure these are my stitches.”

Callie allowed that to sink in for a moment.

“All right. Let’s think about this. Tobias was wearing Reuben’s coat …” Deborah stopped, clearly stumped.