Secrets in the Grave (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 3) (10 page)

Daniel’s face went neutral and I sobered. I had all but forgotten about Fannie Kuhns with all the excitement in here.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what he had to say,” I said.

Bobby nodded with tight lips. “There are still more tests to run, but two components of the tea have been identified.” He paused to make sure that both Daniel and I were fully paying attention. “We were right about the peppermint. It was definitely in there. The other ingredient was not expected. Tansy ragwort.”

I glanced at Daniel and he shrugged. “I don’t know anything about poisonous plants, Bobby. Please elaborate—and quickly.”

He didn’t get the reaction he’d anticipated from either of us. Rolling his eyes, he said, “It’s not a poison per se when handled properly. Before modern medicines, it was used to treat worms, fever, and repel insects. The colonists preserved meat with it and sometimes placed it on bodies before burial. Primitive cultures still use it today for similar purposes.”

“Why would Fannie be drinking something like that?” I asked, holding up my finger to Jeremy, stalling him for a moment more. Behind Jeremy, there were two men in crisp,
expensive suits waiting. I already guessed they were feds. They must have been in the area to arrive so quickly.

“There is another documented use for tansy that is similar to the parsley. It’s an abortifacient.”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It can cause miscarriage when administered in high doses. It’s impossible to tell the potency of the yellow flowering top of the plant by just looking at it. Where one flower may be completely benign, another can be toxic. Most herbalists shy away from the plant because of its unpredictable nature.”

I dropped my voice. “Fannie might have been trying to induce her own abortion—or she could have been murdered?”

Bobby nodded solemnly.

An image of the young woman’s naked body on the examination table flashed before my eyes. I shivered. It was hard to believe an Amish woman would choose to have an abortion, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility, especially since she wasn’t married. I never would have expected Esther Lapp to go to such illegal lengths to protect her son after he’d intentionally murdered Naomi, either. Desperate situations made people act in desperate ways. Picturing Jonas’ blanched eyes triggered me to shiver again. Even if he’d administered the herbs to Fannie at her request, he would be implicated in murder if those herbs killed her. I slumped a little, tired. The straightforward robbery attempt and shootout was more to my liking. The murky layers of the Amish underworld were more challenging.

I blew out a breath. “Get the autopsy reports done for these fine citizens first, then check back with the lab. I need to know exactly what was in that cup.” I turned to Daniel. “Are you up for taking a drive out to the settlement tomorrow morning?”

Daniel hesitated. “Sure, I’d be happy to—as long as we meet at your place tonight.”

Bobby’s brows shot up before he made an abrupt departure. The feds looked annoyed, but I didn’t care. Warm honey spread out in my belly at the velvetiness of Daniel’s persuasive voice.

“You have a deal.”

10

DANIEL

M
a, unaware of the attempted bank robbery and my involvement in it, was digging in her flower bed with a hoe in hand when I walked up behind her. Later this evening or first thing in the morning, the local drivers would bring the news to the community and people would gossip and wonder about it like everyone else. The Amish got news, only much later than the rest of the world.

With my afternoon shot to hell, I decided to make a trip to the community without Serenity, figuring I might be able to get more out Ma alone. In the morning, she could ask her own questions. That is, if she followed through with our agreement.

I cleared my throat softly to not startle Ma, but she bolted upright with her hands on her chest anyway. Seeing it was only me, she swiped the air in front of her. “
Ach
, what a fright you gave me.”

Ma’s hands were covered with dirt and there was a smudge on her cheek. Several strands of her thick, gray hair were loose from her white cap. Even with her disheveled appearance and slight body, she was a commanding figure. Possibly it
was because she was my mother and I would always feel like a ten year old in her presence. I’d gone nearly fifteen years without her in my life. Our relationship had only been renewed some six months earlier, so it was still awkward at times.

“I see you’ve enlarged the flower beds. You’ve been busy,” I commented.

Ma’s eyebrow rose and her mouth turned down. “I really doubt you came all the way out here to talk about my flowers. What’s on your mind, son?”

My heart skipped a beat. It was the first time she’d addressed me as her son since I’d left the Amish. Hearing her say that simple three letter word gave me an amount of satisfaction I wasn’t expecting.

“You’re right, as usual. I have some questions about the healing ways and Jonas. When I visited with you and Father the other day, you both were vague about your concerns regarding the man.”

Ma wiped her hands on her apron and motioned for me to follow her into the house. The late afternoon sun was dropping low in the western sky, turning the slight breeze chilly. I hoped I could have the conversation with Ma before Father returned home from helping my sister’s husband plant the back field. I’d called my sister, Rebecca, before I’d left town to check on Father’s whereabouts.

I accepted a cup of coffee from Ma and waited while she settled in the chair across from me at the kitchen table. Ma reached out and pushed aside the vase of bright yellow daffodils blocking her view to see me better.

“Go on,” Ma urged.

I swallowed. The fact that she’d probably accidentally referred to me as
son
wasn’t lost on me. Ma had been devastated
when I’d left the Amish to be with an English girl. She’d told me that it was the biggest mistake of my life. I found out a couple of months later she was right, but I was too stubborn to admit it, swallow my pride and return to the plain life. Sometimes I regretted my decision to leave the Amish, other times I was thankful for it.

“Have you ever grown tansy ragwort?” I asked carefully, paying close attention to her eyes as they widened and then recovered.

Ma chuckled. “You really are ignorant of plants, aren’t you? Tansy is a weed that you can find at the edge of any field. There’s no need to grow it.”

“I see.” I scratched my chin. “Do the Amish use this weed for medicinal purposes?”

“Of course. I’ve used it myself as an insect repellant, but it’s been years. When
Mammi
was alive, I remember seeing tansy hanging in her storeroom to dry. The plant can be poisonous, especially when it’s just cut. After it’s dried, it can still be dangerous to work with.
Mammi
was well practiced with herbal remedies and trusted herself to use it when needed.”

I searched my mind for a gentle way to ask my question, a way that wouldn’t offend Ma’s sensibilities.

“Uh, have you ever heard of tansy being used to cause a woman to lose a pregnancy?”

Ma slumped back in her chair and sipped her coffee. I took it as a cue to take a sip of mine. The flavor was strong, the way I liked it.

“Is this about Fannie’s death?”

I nodded. “Look, I can’t go into details—it’s an active investigation, but something came up about the plant and I thought I’d ask you.” I took another sip and swallowed. “I
remember how you used to treat people’s mild ailments with herbs. You’re the most knowledgeable person I know and trust about such things. I was hoping you could help me out.”

Ma met my gaze with round, moist eyes. She sniffed, collecting herself.

“
Mammi
told me tansy could be used to end a pregnancy. She was also a midwife, you know. Sometimes a woman loses a baby, but it doesn’t come out. It will fester inside of her, causing serious illness. Back in those days, our women didn’t go to the English hospitals. Sometimes the community healer would be forced to make up a potion to rid the woman’s body of the dead child. It certainly wasn’t done often, but from time to time it was needed, unfortunately.”

“Can you think of any other reason a woman might drink the stuff?”

Ma’s mouth puckered. “It will treat worms, but there are much safer remedies available for that.” She hesitated. “Irene didn’t know about Fannie’s pregnancy. It’s such a scandal. I can hardly believe the girl would have sinned in that way.”

I frowned at Ma. “You know very well that it takes a man and a woman to make a baby. Fannie wasn’t alone in her supposed sinning.”

“Supposed? Has the outside world bled every inch of morals from your body?” Ma said with disapproval seeped heavy into her words.

There was no point trying to talk to Ma about righteousness. We’d never see eye to eye on the subject. The only thing I could do was try to keep her from becoming angry and walking out. This was too important.

“Even if Fannie sinned, don’t you want to know the truth about her death?”

Ma exhaled. “Of course I do. Fannie and the babe didn’t deserve that kind of end. If Fannie had lived, there would have been time to ask for forgiveness and make amends. Now there is none.”

I leaned in further over the wooden table top. “What do you really know about Jonas Peachey? Father indicated he thought having the man here would harm the community in some way, but he never elaborated.” I took a breath. “It’s important you tell me what you know about the medicine man.”

Ma straightened her back. “The only time I ever used the healing powers was to save your friend Lester. The feeling that came over me was…” She paused. “…not what I expected.
Mammi
had described it to me years before, and I’d watched her heal on many occasions, so it wasn’t unexpected. It just…” Ma trailed off.

The light in the kitchen dimmed with the disappearance of the sun. The sky beyond the windows was the hazy gray before nighttime arrived. I felt a chill, and the low light in the room bothered me. Rising, I picked up the matches from the canister on the countertop and lit the gas light above the table, then the one near the sink. The sudden brightness in the room chased away the eerie sensations of the darkness and Ma’s words.

When I sat back down, Ma looked at me with a sense of resolve on her round face. “I wasn’t sure if whatever power I touched was heaven sent. It didn’t feel right, so I never attempted to touch it again.”

“What you did saved Lester. How can that be bad?” I asked.

“I don’t rightly know, but I didn’t want to risk it. Even
Mammi
was reluctant to use the gift. She only healed when the call to do so was greater than the call not to. The problem
I have with Jonas is that he so willingly embraces something that many of us fear to use. Your father feels the same way I do and so does Aaron, but then, he has his own reasons to not trust that man.”

“Do you think Jonas had something to do his wife’s death?”

Ma tilted her head. “Women die in childbirth. It’s not uncommon. It wasn’t the fact that it happened that raised our suspicions. It was what Wilma Gingerich told us afterwards that was the most troubling of all.”

I searched my memory for the name, which sounded familiar. “Wasn’t she the old midwife in our cousins’ Ohio community?”

“That’s right. She was there the entire time Robyn labored and what she saw was evil,” Ma said.

Father picked that moment to walk through the door. “What brings you by, Daniel?”

I looked back at Ma, ignoring Father all together. “What did she see?” I held my breath.

“It’s not something I wish to speak of. You can question her yourself,” she said with challenging eyes.

“She’s still alive? She must be ninety by now,” I exclaimed.

Ma nodded. “Ninety-one to be exact. She lives in the same house in the Black Willow.” Ma rose from her chair and grasped my hands. “You must bring the sheriff to Wilma. We’ll see what an Englisher makes of the story and what she’ll do about it.”

Ma squeezed my hands tightly. “By the way,” she said, “are you going to make an honest woman of the sheriff?”

My eyes bulged and my checks burned.

“Leave him alone, Anna. It’s none of our concern who he spends time with. He’s an outsider, remember?” father
snapped. He jerked his hat from his head and dropped it on the table.

For once, Father’s rudeness was more than welcome.

I took the opportunity and stood. “Thank you talking to me, Ma. Don’t worry. We’ll find out what happened to Fannie and Robyn.”

As I stepped off the porch into the crisper evening air, I exhaled.

As difficult as Serenity was being lately, I wondered if I’d just made a promise to my mother that I wouldn’t be able to keep. Would Serenity be willing to drop everything to take a trip to an Ohio Amish community to talk to an elderly woman who probably had dementia?

When I climbed into the Jeep, the first thing I did was check the messages on my cellphone.

I couldn’t help saying a silent prayer of thankfulness that Serenity had texted me. She was on her way home.

11

SERENITY

M
y eyes kept drifting to the clock on the dresser. Any minute Daniel would knock on the door. Or perhaps he’d use the spare keys I gave him. I was kicking myself in the butt for giving them to him now. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Since then, I’d decided never to make any decisions while my clothes were off.

Shutting my laptop, I deposited it on the night table and stared ahead at the rustic wood framed painting on the wall. It was a Christmas gift from Daniel. I frowned at it. There was a black buggy in the driveway behind an equally black horse. The sky was blue and the foliage was thick and green from summertime heat. The cornfield drew my eyes. The tall green plants were crowded together in the bright sunshine, looking happy and harmless, but I wasn’t fooled. I would never forget the ominous press of those plants against me as I’d wandered through the field searching for clues to Naomi’s death.

It had only been six months ago, but it seemed like an eternity. My heart still clenched at the thought of the pretty girl my nephew had fallen in love with and her tragic end. It
was so unfair. All she had wanted to do was escape her tedious life, and she’d died for it.