Twenty thousand dollars is a lot of moola, even for
moi
. Well, not really. Over the years since I inherited the PennDutch Inn, I have learned to pinch a penny until it screams for mercy. But my point is that, for most folks, twenty big ones was not chump change. The police station has a copy machine, paid for by yours truly, so I had no compunctions about using it to print up flyers offering a reward for any information leading to the arrest of Doc’s assailant.
I had just taped a flyer to a telephone pole in the historic part of town, when the driver of a passing vehicle slammed on the brakes and jumped out. As my eyes refocused, my heart sank. One of the Dorfman brothers was striding toward me, now completely sans shirt, while his shorts hung precariously low. His hairy belly swayed from side to side with each step. I stood rooted to the sidewalk, too mortified to move. It was like watching the approach of a wooly mammoth-although of course such a creature never existed, and even if it had, it would have perished at the hands of the first Americans, who paradoxically arrived on this continent at least four thousand years before the world was even created.
“Miss Yoder, I need a word.”
“Extraneously.”
“Is that Aye-mish?”
“Nay, ’tis not.”
“Miss Yoder, I don’t speak Aye-mish.
Just regular ol’ English.”
“Alas and alack, we lack an interpreter. But speak loudly, and then maybe I’ll understand. What is it that you want, Mr. Dorfman?”
“Harry.”
“Indeed, you are. And since you brought up the subject, going shirtless is just not done in Hernia. Besides, aren’t you freezing to death?”
“Ma’am,
it’s
seventy degrees. Back in
“Harrumph.”
“Is that Aye-mish too?”
“
Nicht, nein, nyet.
Please, hairy Harry, cut to the chase. But just don’t run; the sight of your unsightly abdomen swaying at high speed may cause me to poke out my mind’s eye.”
“Uh . . .”
“The word you wanted with me. What seems to be the problem? It isn’t about that rust brown stain on the carpet, is it? Because it’s ketchup, not blood. The man who died in your room was strangled to death.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oops. I must have lapsed into Amish again. A lot of their words sound like English, but have different meanings.” Okay, so that was an out-and-out fib. But the truth might have upset him so much that he’d have a heart attack.
He nodded and pulled a crumpled flyer from a pocket of his khaki shorts. “
I seen
this outside the feed store. Is this for real?”
“Yes.”
“Hot diggity dog! I’m getting me a new water tank for my herd with this here reward money.”
My heart began to pound. “You know something about Doc’s assailant?”
“Yes sirree, I reckon I do. And what are the chances I’d find you just by driving around this pretty little city, looking up and down the streets like I did?”
“Spit it out, man!”
“Well, you remember dinner last night?”
“Vaguely-of course I do!” To my credit, I did not vocalize some of the epithets swirling around in my mind, only a tongue’s reach away from twitching lips.
“You remember when that, uh, exotic dancer-Candy’s her name-got up to use the ladies’ room?”
“Just so you know
,
I do not suffer from dementia, Mr. Dorfman. I remember everything you’re about to ask me.”
“Oh, I ain’t gonna ask you nothin’ else. Anyway, I was thinking to myself that Candy was taking an awful long time in the powder room, even if she was doing all
them
things ladies sometimes do. Then I happened to glance out the window, and even though it was dark outside, on account of you have that security light, I could see her come out of the barn. She looks around, and then runs back up to the house. That’s how come she was breathing so hard when she got back to the table. That weren’t
no
asthma attack like she said.”
My jaw dropped so far that I could have swallowed a sparrow, had one perchance flown into my mouth. To my recollection, Candy had not been gone that long-just long enough to do her business, wash her hands for thirty seconds using soap and hot water, and then tidy up the basin. But folks didn’t tidy up after themselves anymore, did they? A lot of them didn’t even bother to wash their hands-or so I’ve been told.
“What motive would she have? She didn’t even know Doc. He’s a sweet old man who wouldn’t hurt a fly. His only fault is that he, uh, loves women.”
“You mean he’s as horny as a billy goat?”
“If one must be crude.”
A flock of geese walked across my grave. Maybe that was it; old Doc had made a pass at Candy, who interpreted his attention as sexual harassment. Rather than come to me with the problem, she’d taken the matter into her own hands. Perhaps she’d clobbered him with a pitchfork handle, or a piece of siding that pulled loose. Although nothing appeared to be missing, barns, like most folks’ garages, tend to accumulate stuff, making it hard to account for things.
He chuckled, as if proud of himself for shocking me.
Which he hadn’t, of course.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” he said with a leer.
“Why, I never!”
Well, actually I have, but only within the confines of holy matrimony-although the first time wasn’t quite so holy, given that the billy goat in question was still hitched to that harlot up in
“Believe it or not, Miss Yoder, I am not the least bit interested in your past, no matter how checkered it might be. I just want the twenty thousand dollars you promised in this here flyer.”
“I’ll have you know that my past is
not
checkered. Lightly speckled, perhaps, but that’s as much as I’ll concede. As for the twenty big ones, first we’ll have to see if your information leads to the arrest of Candy Brown for the assault on Doc Shafor.”
“What’s there to see? You are the power in this town, ain’t you?”
“Well, I
am
mayor, and I
do
pay the chief’s salary-get behind me, Satan!”
Harry glanced around nervously.
“Where?”
“At the moment, he resides in you, dear. I will not be tempted to use my power-such as it is-to railroad that sweet little Polish girl, even if she dances for money.”
“What sweet little Polish girl?”
“The one with all the freckles and the strawberry blond curls.”
“Excuse me, Miss Yoder, but boy howdy, have you been bamboozled. That girl ain’t Polish, and she
don’t
dance at no South Pole neither. She dances in them topless bars where she wraps herself around a metal pole in all manner of suggestiveness.”
I let that sink in before opening my big trap. “You mean-you don’t mean
that
, do you?”
He nodded gravely. “I’m afraid I do. I don’t know about youse guys, but in
“Indeed!”
“So you’ll arrest her?”
“
Tempus fugit
,” I cried, and then, remembering the most recent reaction to this quite respectable Latin phrase, I fled like a roach when the light’s been turned on. Unfortunately, I was headed right into Harmon’s way.
15
Cheesecake Ice Cream Recipe
Ingredients:
6 oz (150 g) cream cheese
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 pint (250 ml) sour cream
1/2 pint (250 ml) double (heavy) cream
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Place the cream cheese into a mixing bowl, and beat until soft and smooth. Slowly add the sugar, and then beat in the sour cream followed by the double (heavy) cream. Add the vanilla extract and lemon juice, and mix until thick and smooth. Cover and chill in the refrigerator for two to three hours. Take the chilled mixture and beat until creamy, then transfer the complete mixture into an ice cream maker, and follow the manufacturer’s instructions.
16
I’d driven straight for the inn, and knowing the shortest route, I quite reasonably expected to get there first. So you can imagine my surprise when I stepped out of my car and was greeted by Harry.
“How did you do that?” I cried.
“Gosh, Miss Yoder, you heard that inside your car? Well, it was a good one.
Didn’t last long, but great resonance.
Heck, they earned me quite a reputation with the frat boys.”
“TMI!”
“No, MIT-Mid-North Dakota Institute of Techno-biology.”
“Mr. Dorfman, the sound quality of bodily functions is not much admired in
“You never said
no
such thing.”
“But I did.
Just a few minutes ago.
And pray tell
,
how didst thou get here so fast?
Thee
hadst to have broken the speed limit. I know whereof I speak, having broken the speed limit myself. As a God-fearing woman, I am supposed to obey the law, but I was helping the chief solve a crime, therefore, at least in mine eyes, I had pseudo-dispensation. But verily, thou didst drive like Jehu, son of Nimshi, except thou didst not drive a chariot, and thus, perchance, drove a great deal faster.”
“Huh? Was that English?”
“King James-to a degree.
Now tell me, Mr. Dorfman, how did you get here so fast?”
“Well ma’am, once we caught the interstate in Grand Forks, it was pretty much smooth sailing all the way.”
“No, I mean just now.
Between the historic district and here.”
“Uh-you must be talking about Harry, ma’am, ’cause I ain’t left your place since we arrived yesterday. I’m Harmon.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure as shooting.”
“My apologies, then.
But please, cover yourself. Global warming notwithstanding, we are a conservative community, and do not bare our vulnerable parts outside the bondage-I mean bonds-of marriage.”
“That’s a shame, Miss Yoder, because you have yourself a great body.
Them
clothes you’re wearing don’t hide that fact neither.”
A compliment from any source, short of the Devil, is a gift to be appreciated.
If only for a moment.
To ignore the giver is to be arrogant, which is the third worst sin in Magdalena’s lexicon of the Ten Greatest Spiritual Boo-boos, right up there under sex and dancing.
“Thanks,” I said. “Just don’t get any ideas, because I’m a happily married woman.”