Plainly Murder: A Penguin Special from Obsidian (5 page)

Inside the rented tank, I cranked the heat up. The snow came down heavier now. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles hurt, and despite Anna’s teasing, I was grateful for the super-sized car. It was mid-afternoon, but the flying snow blocked the sun. The last thing I wanted to do was drive around Amish Country alone during a snowstorm. The Dudek brothers, who were next on my list, would have to wait. I shifted the car into reverse and checked my rearview and side mirrors as I eased out of the spot. All I saw was a lot of snow. Timidly, I pressed down on the accelerator a little harder to roll over a pile of snow.

With a thump, the back rear tire hopped up on the curb, followed by a crunch that reverberated through the vehicle. Immediately, I shifted into drive and the tires settled into their original spots.

That didn’t sound good. I hoped whatever I hit didn’t scratch the Expedition’s paint job or the rental company was going to gouge me for it. With a deep breath, I pulled on the plain black winter hat I’d borrowed from my aunt—it was either that or her black bonnet—and stepped gingerly out. I was more cautious after my black-ice tumble less than an hour before.

The driving snow and ice stung my exposed skin. It was no wonder I hit something. I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. I found my victim immediately. My tire tracks led me to the spot where the car rolled onto the sidewalk. I winced. A yellow diamond-shaped sign with a silhouette of an Amish buggy in the middle of it was bent backward at a seventy-five degree angle. I looked left and right for the sheriff. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he reappeared. Thankfully, no one came. All the townsfolk were smart enough to stay inside during the foul weather, much smarter than I was.

I had two choices: I could drive away or drag my sorry self into the courthouse and own up to my crime. I had no idea what the punishment in Holmes County was for destroying public property, but at least I knew where to go if my case ever went to trial. I hoped Cooper wasn’t the judge, though. I doubted he would be lenient after our conversation.

My toes curled from the wet snow melting into the fabric. The snow boots were no longer optional. I straightened my shoulders and trudged back into the courthouse. A gust of warm air hit me in the face as I stepped through the glass doors again. Art, who sipped from a can of diet cola, peered up from his monitors expectantly. It must be a lonely job to be a courthouse guard in Holmes County. I suspected Art didn’t have the opportunity to wrestle too many escapees to the ground.

He sputtered and a light spray of soda escaped his lips. “You again!” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to try to talk to the judge.” I paused. “I need to report an accident.”

Art stood and removed his heavy black parka from the back of his chair. “What kind of accident? Was anyone hurt?”

“No one was hurt.” I buried my hands deep into my pockets. “But a buggy sign right outside has seen better days.”

“You hit it with your car?”

I nodded.

Art shrugged into his coat. “Show me where.”

I led him outside and slid on a patch of ice by the door. Art grabbed my arm to steady me. “You might want to get some boots.”

I groaned.

He released my arm. “Where’s your car?”

“At the corner. Follow me.” In the two minutes I had been in the courthouse, the snow had lessened. I could see my hand, my rental, and the bent buggy sign, which looked even worse without the buffer of falling snow between it and my line of sight.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I sort of backed into it. I didn’t see it in the snow.”

He pointed at the Expedition. “Is that your car?”

I nodded, sheepishly.

“No wonder the sign is bent so badly. Why don’t you drive an aircraft carrier while you’re at it?”

I didn’t bother to tell him that I couldn’t drive an aircraft carrier. It was a boat, after all. I didn’t think Art would appreciate the correction. I gritted my teeth. “I’m from Texas and not used to driving in snow. I wanted to be safe.”

He snorted. “Oh, you will be safe. It’s those around you I’m worried about.”

“So, do I need to pay a fine or something? I really want to get to my aunt’s house before the snow picks up again.”

He walked over to the sign and held the bottom half with one hand and the top of the buggy sign with the other. With a grunt, he bent the buggy sign back upright. It wasn’t perfect, and there was a noticeable crease in the metal rod, but at least it wasn’t going to cut anyone who passed it on the sidewalk.

I whistled under my breath. “Whoa, I’m impressed.”

He shrugged. “I was a Division I shot-putter in college and still lift weights for fun.”

Well, that proved it. He could toss me across the street if he wanted to.

“I’ll let you off the hook this time. I know for a fact you’re not the first person to back into this sign. I keep telling the judge it needs to be moved back farther from the parking space.”

Deep down, Art was a softie. I smiled. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.” I reached into my purse for a scrap of paper and a pen. I jotted my cell number on the paper and handed it to him. “Here. Just in case someone complains about the sign,”

The sound of quick footsteps approached us. Art and I spun around. A man hurried along the sidewalk, swerving around Art.

“Hey, buddy, watch where you’re going,” Art said.

The man glanced over his shoulder. Snowflakes sprinkled his Amish beard like powder sugar. An Amish man running through Millersburg wasn’t especially noteworthy, but an Amish man named Ira Eby was. What was he doing outside of the courthouse? Was he here to see Cooper?

Ira and I locked eyes. He said nothing and disappeared around the side of the courthouse. If I had proper footwear, I would have followed him. In my soggy sneakers, I was prone to break my neck.

Art shoved my phone number into this coat pocket. “Hey, are you all right? You look weird.”

I brushed snow from my eyebrows and was happy to see the snow had all but stopped. I hoped I could make it to my aunt’s house before it started up again. “That was Ira Eby. I met him this morning in Rolling Brook. I’m surprised to see him in Millersburg”

“Why? He’s here all the time visiting the judge. They’re good friends. I gathered they we’re close when the judge was Amish.”

Here all the time?
Did Lily know that? She said she hadn’t spoken to Cooper since they broke up. Why would Ira remain friends with his wife’s ex-boyfriend?

“When was the last time you saw him here?” I asked.

Art’s face turned red as if he just realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have. We both knew he couldn’t take it back. Art jerked his thumb at my rental. “Do you need help backing out of the space?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so now that the snow has stopped.”

“All right then. Be careful.” He brushed his hands on the pants of his uniform. “Remember if you start to skid, don’t fight it. Turn into the skid or you’ll spiral out of control and fly into a ditch.”

That was reassuring.

In my aunt’s mudroom, I slipped off my tennis shoes, and they made a puddle on the floor. My feet were freezing. I needed cozy socks stat Oliver toddled into the mudroom, clicking his nails on the hardwood with extra force. I believed he was making a statement about how much he disliked his boots.

Gripping her hickory cane, my aunt was only a few steps behind him. Worry creased her face. “Angie, thank the Lord you are home. I was about to walk to the shed phone and call Anna to find out where you might be. There was a bad snow squall there for a moment. I was afraid you were out on the roads.”

I tossed my coat on the peg by the door. “
Aenti
, I’m so sorry I worried you. Thankfully, the snow stopped before I had to drive again.” I left out the part about the bent buggy sign and my wipeout in front of the sheriff. “Don’t even think of walking to the shed phone. I’d never forgive myself if you fell on your way there. I stopped by earlier, but you were napping.”

She nodded. “I had wondered how Oliver got back in the house, though I was happy for his company when the weather turned bad. You should have woken me.” She peered down at my toes. “You needed to buy some snow boots. I wish you could wear mine, as I don’t need them.”

My aunt wore a size five shoe and I wore a nine. That would never work. “I plan to tomorrow,” I said.

She returned to the kitchen with Oliver at her heels. “Put on those rainbow slippers of yours and come to the table. I have dinner ready.”

Oliver woofed at the mention of food.

“I have some stew for you, too,” my aunt promised him.

He gave her his widest grin. If it weren’t for the rogue chickens, I thought Oliver would happily live with my aunt forever.

I hurried up the narrow stairway to the guest room to retrieve a fresh pair of socks and my fuzzy rainbow slippers. I chuckled to myself as I put them on. I bet Aunt Eleanor was the only Amish woman in the county with such extravagant footwear in her home.

Back in the kitchen, I insisted she sit while I set the table and ladled stew into stoneware bowls. I put a small serving in Oliver’s food dish as well.

Aunt Eleanor slathered butter and Amish peanut butter spread, which is a delicious mixture of peanut butter, marshmallow, and corn syrup, onto a flaky biscuit. My mouth watered. I loved my aunt’s peanut butter spread, but it was definitely not on my diet. Ludvik would have fainted just from the smell of it. My aunt nudged the jar in my direction. “You’ve had a long day, it seems. You need something sweet.”

I shouldn’t.
In my mind’s eye, I saw Ludvik grunting with disdain. Ludvik grunted with disdain at anything that tasted good. I dipped the tip of my teaspoon into the jar.
Just a taste won’t hurt.
“Mmm,” I groaned.

Aunt Eleanor laughed. “Feel better?”

No, actually I felt worse because now that I had a taste of the peanut butter spread, I wanted the entire eight-ounce jar. I scooted the jar across the table in her direction with the spoon. I didn’t trust letting my hands touch the jar.

She chuckled. “Did you have any luck with Evelyn’s quilt? Did Lily take it?”

The quilt
. I had left it in the car. “She didn’t take it,” I said. “It’s in the car. I can go get it for you.”

“
Nee
. Eat your supper first.”

I hid a smile. She sounded so much like the motherly aunt I remembered from my childhood.

“Did Lily tell you anything at all about Eric’s death?”

I swallowed a bite of stew. “She did. Anna and I spoke to her and Violet. Then, I talked to Cooper Mueller—make that
Judge
Cooper Mueller—on my own.” I related all the conversations that I’d had that day. “There was something definitely suspicious happening with those boys around the time of Eric’s death. Cooper didn’t want to talk about it. I haven’t spoken directly to Ira yet about it.”

“Maybe it’s too painful for Cooper to speak of. He did lose a
gut
friend.”

I tapped the side of the peanut butter jar with my spoon. “That’s possible, or it could just be they don’t want to talk to me about it. It must be strange to have a woman from Texas asking about the death of their friend fifteen years after the fact. I wish I could start over, especially with Lily.”

“You do need boots, don’t you?” She spooned the rest of her stew into Oliver’s bowl.

I frowned at the change of subject and how much she’d eaten. She’d barely taken three tiny bites. “Yes. Is there a Target or something close by?”

“I have a better place for you to buy them.”

“Where?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Eby Amish Mercantile.”

“Ahh,” I said, understanding. “And maybe talk to Lily again while I’m shopping?”

She smiled and pushed her dish away. “And maybe I should come with you.”

•   •   •

I hoped to talk Aunt Eleanor out of coming with me to Eby Amish Mercantile for boot shopping. Her doctor had specifically said that she should stay at home during the cold weather. But it was a losing argument from the start. Aunt Eleanor had made up her mind before she even suggested the idea.

When my aunt, Oliver, and I entered the general store the next morning, Ira was nowhere in sight. I didn’t know yet what I was going to say to him about seeing him outside of the Millersburg courthouse. A teenaged Amish girl behind the sales counter tucked a glossy magazine behind it. “
Gude Mairye,
Mrs. Lapp, can I help you find anything special today?”

“
Nee
, Kate. I’m here to find some proper boots for my niece Angie here. I know where they are. Don’t trouble yourself.” She slipped into the nearest aisle. The smell of leather and rubber wafted over me. Aunt Eleanor’s cane made a steady thump-thump on the ground as we progressed to the boot section. I winced as I walked down the wide aisle of particularly ugly boots. In Dallas, I bought my shoes at Bloomingdales and Saks. There wasn’t anything remotely like that in Holmes County. “This is about function, not form,” I told myself, and it was only for my stay in Holmes County. If I brought any of those boots back to Dallas, my mother would disown me.

My aunt pointed to a work boot with a reinforce heel and steel toe. The boots were black and laced halfway up the calf. The Amish answer to combat boots?

“That should be sturdy enough,” my aunt said.

Sturdy, yes. Ugly, double yes. I was certain I had never put something that hideous on my feet. My rainbow slippers notwithstanding; they were ugly in the cute way. These boots were traditionally ugly. The dreadful footwear made me miss my beloved cowboy boots, which I had left at home because I didn’t want the leather to get water stained in the snow.

“They aren’t that bad,” Aunt Eleanor said.

“Who said they were bad?” I asked.

She chuckled. “It’s written all over you face. Now, buck up and try them on.”

I removed the boots from the shelf and sat on a footstool a few feet away.

“Eleanor, I haven’t seen you in weeks. How are you?” A timid voice asked just as I was unlacing the right boot. I peered up from my feet to find Lily Eby in the aisle.

Aunt Eleanor smiled at her. “I am well, Lily. We are shopping for a sturdy pair of boots for Angie. Have you met my niece before?”

I ducked my head to hide my surprised expression. Aunt Eleanor knew that Lily and I met yesterday. Why would she ask Lily that question?

“We’ve met,” Lily said, not sounding too thrilled at our acquaintance. Her eyes fell to Oliver, who sniffed the boots on the lowest shelf.

“Is it okay that I brought him inside?” I asked. “It’s so cold out and I hate to leave him in the car.”

Oliver got up and sniffed her hand.

“It’s all right,” she said. “He seems very well behaved.”

Had a chicken walked by, she wouldn’t think that.

“Thank you.” I smiled at her. “We’re looking for boots because I didn’t bring any with me from Texas. After falling in the ice and snow yesterday, I realized I really need them.”

“We don’t have the selection that you will find in one of the English stores. They have more variety.”

“It was my idea to bring Angie here,” my aunt said. “In weather like this, a
gut
pair of Amish boots is what she needs.”

She nodded to the pair at my feet. “Did you like those?”

I held up the black lace-up boots. “These are . . .” I searched for the right word. “Functional.”

She barked a laugh and clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, but you should see the expression on your face. You’re horrified.”

Aunt Eleanor grinned. “Angie’s face is always a giveaway.” The two Amish shared a smirk at my expense.

I broke into a grin too. “Maybe I’m a little frightened.”

Lily pulled a folding chair into the aisle. “Eleanor, you shouldn’t stand so long while Angie shops. Sit here.”

My aunt thanked her. “Now, finish trying those boots on, Angie. They won’t bite.”

Sure, they won’t.

Lily folded her arms. “Stop.”

“Why?” Was I doing something wrong? Was there an Amish way to tie a boot? There seemed to be an Amish way for everything else.

“You need socks, too.” She disappeared down around a display of bonnets. A second later she returned, holding a pair of thick navy socks. She handed them to me. “Put these on.”

I removed my pink socks and tucked them into my purse. When I pulled the first sock on I wiggled with delight. “They’re so warm.”

Aunt Eleanor held her cane like a queen held her scepter. “See, Angie, sometimes function is better than looks.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted.

Lily laughed. “My mother-in-law knits them. She promises they are the warmest socks in the county. They’re one of our bestsellers in the store, especially this time of year.”

“I can see why,” I said as I pulled on the second sock and slipped my right foot into the boot. I cocked my head. The boot didn’t look that bad on, and at least it was warm. Warmth was my number one priority at the moment. Well, that, and trying to find out if Evelyn was right and her son’s death really was murder. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I hope Anna and I didn’t upset you.”

Behind Lily, my aunt gave an encouraging nod.

Lily frowned. “They are difficult memories for me.” She blushed. “And talking about Cooper makes me uncomfortable. I have a different life now than I would have had I married him. Ira doesn’t like to be reminded that I almost married his friend.”

“Are they still friends?” Aunt Eleanor asked.

Lily’s blush deepened. “
Nee
. Too much has happened.”

But Art said that Ira visited Cooper often at the courthouse. He had no reason to lie, at least no reason that I knew of. Lily certainly seemed to be telling the truth as she knew it. Could Ira be keeping his meetings with Cooper Mueller from his wife?

“But they were friends when you were younger,” Aunt Eleanor said.

Lily frowned. “They were.”

I finished lacing up the second boot and stood. “I saw Ira in Millersburg yesterday.”

She frowned. “He goes there often for business.”

“It was near the courthouse.”

“Most of the businesses are near the courthouse. It is the center of town.”

“It’s also near the judge’s office.”

She gave me a blank stare.

“And Cooper Mueller is a Holmes County judge. Are you sure that the two men are no longer friends?”

She rearranged several pairs of boots on the shelf. “They may be friendly in a business sense, but not as close as when we were young. Cooper is an
Englischer
now. It could never be the same as it once was.”

“What kind of business?”

“I don’t know, but I do not know all of my husband’s business dealings. That is not my place.”

Before I could spout off into a feminist speech, my aunt said, “What about the business Eric and Cooper were going to open before Eric died?”

Lily’s forehead wrinkled.

“The bike shop,” I said.

“Bike shop?” Her voice was distant. “I haven’t thought about that in years. I don’t remember much about it. I know they wanted to open it.”

“Violet said they argued about it,” I said.

“You’ve spoken to my sister,” Lily said.

I nodded.

“Is all of this because Evelyn wanted to give me one of her quilts?” Lily asked.

“More than once,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell Anna and me that Evelyn tried to bring you the quilt a second time?”

Her mouth fell open. “How did you know?”

“Kenneth told us.”

She pursed her lips. “I did not want to think of it. My husband had been so angry when Evelyn was here. He asked her to leave. It is not a pleasant memory. Ira wants us to forget that time. He always tells me to forget that time. It’s too painful. Evelyn wanted me to have the quilt as a constant reminder. I could not take it. It upset me but upset my husband more. Evelyn should have understood that.”

“She was a grieving mother,” I said quietly.

Lily scowled at me. “You are not from the community. You should not meddle in something you cannot possibly understand.”

My aunt struggled to her feet. “I’ve asked Angie to honor Evelyn’s memory by fulfilling her final request, which was to find out what happened to her son.”

Lily swallowed. “I’ve helped you as much as I can. I already told Angie what I knew yesterday.”

I walked in place, testing how the boots felt. “Violet said that Cooper and Eric argued not long before Eric died. Do you have any guesses as to what that was about?”

“If my sister knows about the argument, ask her.”

I didn’t tell her I already had. “Did you ever hear them argue about the bike shop, or anything else?”

“No.” Her answer was clipped.

“Maybe Ira will remember,” Aunt Eleanor mused.

Lily folded her hands in front of her chest. I don’t know if the hand folding was in prayer or in plea or in both. “Please don’t talk to my husband about Cooper or about Eric. It will upset him. When Eric died, it was a very painful time in all of our lives and not one of us wants to relive it. I know Evelyn missed her son terribly. I can’t imagine the pain she went through, especially because he was her only child, but she is gone now, too. Can’t we just let them all rest in peace?”