Eli wanted to deliver the furniture himself. He planned to ride along with his delivery workers. Once at the house, he would ask the young man in the baseball cap to clarify his intentions. If worse came to worse, he would return the money order and refuse to sell him the pieces. The contract he had with buyers allowed him some leeway if the buyer misrepresented himself, and in this case, that just might be true.
“You need to stay here and oversee the horse auction.”
Martha was standing on the shipping ramp with him. Her purse was strapped over her shoulder and she’d donned a sweater for what was turning out to be a beautiful, brisk October day. Outside the dock, the festival was in full swing. Though it was only nine in the morning, already the crowds were pouring in.
“I can go and you can stay here,” she added.
“No.”
“But—”
“The auction will be fine. That’s what I hire auctioneers for.”
“But what if they have a question or something they can’t handle? What if someone overbids on a horse?”
“Martha, as you know, I’m not here for every auction. Stop worrying.”
“Who said I was worrying?” She stuck her thumbnail in her mouth, realized what she was doing, and pulled it out—clasping her hands behind her back.
“It will be fine.”
“What if he’s dangerous? Or violent?”
“He won’t be.”
“Why don’t we leave the furniture here?”
“Because there could be a very simple explanation.”
“But the map!” She lowered her voice, as if suddenly aware that the delivery guys—Matt and Joshua—were within listening distance.
They continued to load auction items onto the truck, as Eli tried to think of a way to discourage Martha from coming along. He was her boss and he could tell her to get back to work. But he couldn’t outright forbid it should she take it in her mind to follow them. Perhaps there was a little part of him that thought she might be handy to have along. She certainly seemed keen on solving the mystery.
In the end, it wasn’t worth arguing with her. They rode in the front of the truck with Matt and Joshua. It was a tight fit in spite of the fact that the delivery truck had a large cab. The ride to South Bend was only forty-five minutes, but they stopped in Jamestown to deliver four rocking chairs that had sold in another of Wednesday’s auction lots. Many of the fields they passed were harvested already. In others he saw farmers working hard to bring in their crops before the weekend’s predicted rain. Both Amish and Englisch worked in the fields, sometimes side by side. For any who didn’t believe the two groups could live peaceably beside each other they had only to drive down a country road during harvesting time.
By the time they turned onto the street listed on the buyer’s form, it was ten in the morning. Matt pulled up in front of a country style house—small but meticulously maintained.
“Wait here,” Eli said. “I’ll let you know whether to unload.”
Martha never hesitated. She popped out of the truck and hurried up the walk with him.
A small sedan sat in the driveway, originally black, but now desperately in need of paint.
Eli’s finger was barely off the doorbell when the door opened. The young man in the baseball cap who answered was the same person who had overbid at the auction.
“Do you have my furniture?”
“I have the furniture, yes, but there’s something we need to clear up first. My name is Eli Wittmer and this is my office manager, Martha Beiler.”
“Duncan Fisher.” He didn’t offer his hand, but he did step out onto the front porch, closing the door behind him. He wore jeans and a plain black T-shirt. The ball cap sported a Cubs logo. He was probably five foot ten, approximately the same height as Eli, but he still had the too-thin look of a teenager. “What’s the problem? What needs clearing up?”
“You overbid on the furniture that you purchased.”
“So?”
“You’re aware then, that you paid too much.”
Duncan tugged on his ball cap and then settled for sticking his hands in his back pockets. “I guess.”
“Why would you do such a thing?” Martha asked.
“That’s my business. I bought the furniture. You’ve been paid, and now you need to have those two guys haul it off the truck.”
“Whoa, son. Not so quick. The sellers—Jacob and Charity Weaver—have the right not to sell if there’s a problem with the bid price.”
“Those rules are in case someone isn’t paying what a thing is worth.”
“Usually, yes. I see you understand auctions.”
“I should. I’ve been to enough of them.”
Eli let that pass. “Maybe we should speak with your parents about this.”
“I’m nineteen.” Duncan shook his head in disgust. “I need those pieces. If you want me to pay more, I will.”
“No. That won’t be necessary. What I need is for you to tell me why you’re so interested in these pieces.”
Duncan had been looking toward the truck, but now he turned his gaze on Eli and Martha, understanding dawning in his eyes.
“You know about the maps.”
Eli nodded once.
Duncan stared off across the yard for a moment. When he once again focused on them, he said, “I guess you better come inside.”