Killing Gifts (18 page)

Rose pulled back from the edge and began her search. She had a strong hunch that everyone, including the police, would treat this as an accident—especially once they discovered Dulcie had been pregnant and hadn't been well lately. They would assume she wanted some air, had a dizzy spell, and fell over the side. It was the most convenient story for everyone.

There was little light, so Rose dropped to her knees and examined the area from which Dulcie must have fallen. She was counting on the fact that no one had been available to sweep the barn for years. Bits of hay, dust, and dirt were scattered across the wood floor. She examined the floor inch by inch. By the time she heard Helen giving orders about how to lift Dulcie from the ground, Rose knew that her hopes had been in vain. She found evidence that someone had recently been there—wet spots indicated melted snow from boots or galoshes, and the heavy layer of dust had been pushed about. However, she couldn't find anything that looked like skid marks that would indicate a struggle. She couldn't even tell if more than one person had been up there recently. It was possible that the would-be killer had already subdued Dulcie and simply carried her into the barn to throw her down. That would explain what wasn't there. But then, the police could only work with what
was
there.

Feeling discouraged and very alone, Rose stood and looked over the side. Four men were lifting Dulcie, who was wrapped in a blanket so she would move as little as possible. Helen guided them, her hands waving about as if she didn't quite trust the men to be careful enough. Finally, eight strong arms securely held the Dulcie bundle, and the group moved like a centipede toward the barn door. Helen watched them leave, then glanced back at the hay on which Dulcie had fallen. She crouched down, pushed the hay aside, as if she'd spotted something. She picked up a small object and stowed it in her coat pocket. Kicking the hay back into a pile, she followed the others out of the barn.

EIGHTEEN

“I
T WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT
. T
HAT'S WHAT THE DOCTOR AND
the police both said.” Johnny Jenkins's gaze flicked up at Rose and back again to his journal, where he was listing a series of numbers. Since they were in the Brethren's Workshop, surrounded by thin strips of wood, she assumed he was recording the production of oval boxes for sale to the world.

“Nevertheless,” Rose said, “I want to know where you were yesterday afternoon between two and the time we gathered for the evening meal.” She did not bother to justify her request. Johnny was a novitiate and should by now have grasped the need for obedience to an eldress, even if she was from a different village.

Johnny paused just long enough to be insolent before putting down his pen. “Yesterday afternoon, I was, as usual, working. I came here immediately following the noon meal, and Aldon and I worked on oval boxes until the bell rang for the evening meal. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Did either of you leave the building at any time?”

Johnny's jaw tightened. “We are not in the habit of interrupting our work for pleasure outings,” he said.

“You might have needed something in another building. Perhaps one of you carried some items over to the Fancy Goods Store?”

“We did not leave the building.” He picked up his pen, signaling the interview was over.

Though she prayed for patience, Rose felt her own pride tripping her, clouding her mind. As Johnny began writing again, she stood her ground and willed her temper to cool. Too much depended on her ability to find the truth. Dulcie hovered between life and death. If her “accident” was really a murder attempt, she was still in danger. There was no time for injured pride.

“That's good,” she said. “The doctor and the police may be quite right, of course, but you can understand why I want to be certain Dulcie was alone when she fell.”

Johnny's pen hesitated above the page. “Dulcie did sometimes go to the Round Stone Barn alone, you know,” he said.

“I didn't know.”

Johnny tapped the top of his pen on the desktop. “I saw her go in alone, now and then. I can't imagine why she would choose such a cold place, but maybe she thought no one would think to look for her there. So I'm not surprised that's where her accident happened.”

“Did you ever see her go there with anyone else?”

Johnny shrugged. “Sorry. Now I really must get back to work.”

“Of course.”

Rose descended to the first floor of the Brethren's Workshop and found that Aldon had arrived to make brooms. Apparently, brooms were just as irritating to him as oval boxes had been, because his aristocratic face puckered in a frown. His frown deepened at Rose's question.

“Johnny and I worked together all afternoon,” Aldon confirmed.

“And neither of you left the building for any reason? To deliver finished items to the store, anything at all?”

“I do not lie.”

“Of course not. But when one is working intently, the memory can falter.”

“Not mine.”

“I see. Then I won't keep you longer from your work.” When she reached the door, she turned back to Aldon. “Just one last question,” she said. “Were you aware that Dulcie sometimes visited the Round Stone Barn alone?”

“Unlike some others, I took no notice of Dulcie's comings and goings, nor those of any other female.”

“Which others took more notice of her?”

Aldon picked up some broom straw and stuffed it awkwardly in the winder. “I should think her fiancé would be better able to tell you her habits.”

“I see. Thank you for your help.”

So Aldon and Johnny alibi each other for the time of Dulcie's “accident,”
Rose thought as she crunched through the snow toward the Barn Complex. And Aldon seemed to hope she would look with suspicion on Theodore. She might as well follow the lead, vague as it was. She had no other ideas at the moment.

She found Theodore and Otis inside the Barn Complex, cleaning and repairing some farming equipment, so they would be ready when spring arrived. With Theodore nearby, Otis appeared to be hard at work. They both looked up at the same time as she approached them. Theodore gave her a cold stare, while Otis's face crinkled with pleasure as he put aside his work with no sign of regret.

“You think Dulcie had some help falling all that way?” Otis asked, when Rose had begun her questions.

“That's ridiculous,” Theodore said. “Nobody'd bother to hurt Dulcie. She got dizzy, and she fell. That's all.”

By some miracle, Rose had prevailed upon the doctor, Helen, and Fannie—the only ones who had found out about Dulcie's pregnancy—to keep the information under wraps for the time being. Theodore must think that no one knew. Wouldn't it occur to him that the baby must have been injured in Dulcie's fall? Perhaps he didn't care, as long as his reputation was safe.

“I'm not sure of anything at this point,” Rose said. “I just think it wise to clarify at once where everyone was when Dulcie fell. After all, someone might have seen something that would help pinpoint the exact time of her accident.”

“Well, I guess we're both suspects, then,” Otis said cheerfully. “Theodore and me, we worked all over the place yesterday afternoon, both together and alone.”

“I worked here most of the afternoon,” Theodore said. “All this stuff has to get fixed soon. Spring is coming.”

Rose had trouble believing that spring would ever come again to this frozen land, let alone soon, but she could appreciate the urge to work efficiently.

“As for me,” Otis said, “I was in and out. Had to deliver some frilly stuff to the store—for the sisters, you know. Got rags and so forth for cleaning and oiling. I was all over the place.”

Rose believed him. He probably walked well out of his way whenever possible, if his previous habits were any indication.

“Otis, if you were around the village, perhaps you saw something that might be helpful. Did you catch sight of Dulcie at any time?”

Otis pulled down the corners of his mouth until he looked like a frog about to flick his tongue at a fly. “Now you mention it,” he said, “I might've seen Dulcie, but I can't be real sure. If it was her, then I saw her a couple of times. She always wears that old Shaker dress, so it's hard to tell her from a sister sometimes, especially from a distance—but I'm pretty sure it was her jacket I saw.”

“Where did you see her—and when?”

“Well, let me see. I saw her heading out of the store—no, wait, that was before supper. You don't care about that.”

“Tell me anyway.” She'd probably just talked with Gennie, Rose thought, with regret. If only she had stayed in the village yesterday afternoon, maybe Dulcie would have found her, and none of this would have happened.

“She took off at a run, and I remember thinking that was strange,” Otis said. “She's been feeling poorly lately, so I was surprised she could run like that through the snow. She was heading west, probably back to the dwelling house.”

“Did you watch where she actually went?”

“No, but I did see her stop and talk to one of the baby Shakers—Sewell, I think. He wasn't so much taller than Dulcie, so I figured it was Sewell. Those other two, they're real tall. I had to get back here with some rags, so I didn't wait around to see where she went after that.”

“And after the noon meal?”

“Well, it must've been around the middle of the afternoon when I had to go out again—the sisters wanted me to deliver some things to the store. I saw Dulcie come out of the dwelling house as I was walking toward it. I think she must have seen me, too, because she went way off the path into the snow so she wouldn't pass close to me. We've always been friendly, Dulcie and me, but maybe she just didn't want to talk to anyone. She gets like that once in a while.” He glanced sideways at Theodore, who showed no interest in the conversation.

“Did you see where she was heading?”

“Yeah, I watched her a bit. I mean, she was acting strange, and I guess I was curious. She sort of circled wide around me and went straight for the Round Stone Barn. That's the last I seen of her.”

“What time was that?”

“No idea.”

“Did either of you see or hear of anything else that afternoon that struck you as unusual?” Rose asked.

Theodore shook his head without looking up from the hay rake he was scraping clean of dirt and rust.

“You know,” Otis said, “there was one more thing, now you ask. I didn't think much of it at the time.” He frowned. “Of course, I could be wrong, too.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, it seemed like one of the barn doors was open. The Round Stone Barn, that is. Might not mean anything, though, come to think of it. Sewell's been going around to all the old buildings a lot, so he might've been inside or just left. It's dark in there; maybe he wanted more light.” Otis shrugged and picked up a rag, as if he might actually put in a few minutes of work.

“Do you have any idea where Sewell might be now?” Rose asked.

For once, it was Theodore who answered. “He said he was going to the old Meetinghouse to take some measurements. Wanted me to come along and help, as if I didn't have enough of my own work to do, with spring planting getting closer.”

Rose noticed he did not mention a need to spend time watching over his fiancée. Perhaps he was one of those men who kept their emotions secret. It seemed she'd met more such men up here than back in Kentucky. Maybe it was her prejudice showing through—or maybe it was an effect of the climate.

 

“How is Dulcie? She isn't . . . ?” Sewell watched with anxious eyes as Rose crossed the Meetinghouse toward him.

“As far as I know, she is the same,” Rose said. She thought she saw his expression relax. Was he truly concerned about Dulcie, or was he relieved she was still unconscious?

“I need to ask you a few questions about yesterday.”

Sewell held a large sheet of paper that crackled as his hand twitched. “Yes?”

“Right now it looks like Dulcie fell accidentally, but with Julia's murder and all, I thought it best to find out where everyone was yesterday afternoon—just to be safe, you know.” In the lantern light, Rose could see the fear in Sewell's eyes.

“Of course. That's the wisest course, I'm sure.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and knocked a pencil from behind his ear. “Sorry,” he mumbled, as he knelt to retrieve it.

“When you spoke with Dulcie yesterday, did she mention if she was planning to meet someone later?”

“When I . . . ? I'm sorry, I don't remember speaking with her for several days.”

“You were seen, Sewell. Just take your time, I'm sure it will come to you.”

Sewell's eyes darted around the room as if looking for a crack to fly through. “I suppose we did pass the time of day, but it was no more than that.”

“No one is accusing you of forbidden behavior,” Rose said. “I wasn't here yesterday afternoon, so I need others to remember for me. That's all.”

“It may be nothing to you,” Sewell said, “but the police still think I killed Julia. Why wouldn't they blame me for Dulcie, too?”

“The police are convinced Dulcie fell by accident.”

“They won't be for long, if you keep asking these questions.”

“And if you refuse to help me,” Rose said sternly, “I will have to wonder what you are trying to hide.”

“I haven't hurt anyone, not a soul. I swear it before the Holy Father. I don't understand why this has fallen on me. Hasn't my life been hard enough? Why am I being tested like this?” Sewell had spread out his arms and reached his shaking hands toward the heavens. From anyone else, it would have seemed a calculated gesture, but Rose believed Sewell's anguish. He was a tortured soul, but by what, if not murder, she could not guess.

“Help me prove your innocence,” she said. “Tell me everything you remember from your conversation with Dulcie yesterday.”

Sewell clenched his hands prayerfully before his chest. “All right,” he said, “I will try. I will trust that God has sent you here. Dulcie was upset. We were friends, in my former life, good and trusted friends. She confided in me. When she saw me, she came running right up to me as if I was the only person she could talk to. She said everything had gone wrong, and she had only one chance to set it right.”

“Do you know what she meant by that?”

Sewell bowed his head over his hands for a moment, then looked Rose in the eyes. “I knew about the baby,” he said. “She had told me before. Yesterday she said that Theodore was furious with her, blamed her for everything and didn't want her or the baby. She kept saying, ‘My baby needs a father,' over and over.”

“Did she tell you her plan—how she intended to ‘set it right'?”

Sewell shook his head slowly. “I told her she must tell the sisters about her condition and let them talk to Theodore. Then she began to cry and said she couldn't talk anymore. I urged her to go to bed and rest; she looked so pale. She said she had to fix everything right away or she'd never be able to sleep again. As she walked away, I heard her say, ‘Why has he left me like this?' I thought she might have meant God.”

“Did you see where she went after she left you?”

“I was in a hurry, so I only watched for a few moments. She walked very slowly toward the east. She could have been going anyplace—the Round Stone Barn, the Trustees' Office, anywhere. I'm sorry I can't be more helpful. Do you believe me?”

“I think I do,” Rose said. “But I would find it easier to believe you if I understood you better.”

“There is nothing to understand.” His haunted dark eyes refuted his statement.

“You are afraid of something,” Rose said. “I've sensed it ever since we first met. My guess is that you have not confessed this terrifying fear to anyone. Tell me. Perhaps I can help. As you well know, confession itself can give you the peace you so clearly lack.”