CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Jonas appeared in front of the Victorian in a courting buggy, Daisy laughed. He’d said he had a surprise for her and was taking care of transportation to the covered bridge for today’s parade and celebration.
She’d expected maybe a convertible borrowed from a friend.
She descended the steps from the tea garden, and he smiled at her with so much affection and love her heart tripled its rhythm.
Standing, still holding the reins, he waved dramatically at the buggy. “Your ride, ma’am.”
The two-seater, open, horse-drawn buggy was usually given to a young Amish man when he was ready to court a girl in preparation for marriage—hence the name “courting buggy.” It was fashioned with a bench seat for two occupants. Daisy recognized the horse pulling this buggy. It was Rachel’s Standardbred, Brownie.
Jonas resumed his seat and offered his hand to Daisy as she stepped into the buggy. “What do you think?” Jonas’s black hair blew in the breeze.
She brushed her own hair away from her face and said, “I think it’s romantic.”
They were both wearing jeans today and T-shirts that said in white print on red—COVERED BRIDGE 100 YEARS.
Teasing, he brushed his shoulder against hers and admitted, “We might have to buy a courting buggy if you think it’s romantic. We could clomp the back roads, stargaze, neck.”
“Sounds good,” she said with a laugh. And it did. They should make every day of their marriage special if they could.
At the next intersection, Jonas joined up with other buggies, horses and riders, and vehicles decorated in red, white, and blue celebrating the covered bridge’s anniversary.
“I think the whole town has come out for the celebration.” Jonas nodded at the tourists and residents of Willow Creek standing along Market Street.
“All the seats for the tea are sold out. This is the first time I’m not going to be there when we have a special tea.”
“I admire you, Daisy, for letting April plan the tea and trusting her to make sure it all runs smoothly. After all, Iris will be at the bridge, too.”
Daisy lifted her phone. “I’m ready to answer anything April wants to ask me. Hopefully there won’t be any problems. Or if there are, she’ll be confident enough to handle them. Cora Sue and Tessa have her back.”
Along their drive, Daisy and Jonas commented on the sights, pointed out people they knew, and simply enjoyed their buggy ride on this beautiful summer day. Although the sun was hot on their heads, Daisy couldn’t think of a place she’d rather be.
“Did you see Luke Fisher and his girl in his courting buggy?” Jonas asked her.
“I missed them. Maybe we’ll catch up at the covered bridge.”
“I spoke to him for a while when I fetched Brownie. He’ll be committing to his faith this fall. I doubt if wedding banns will be far behind.”
“He’s so young,” Daisy commented. “But I was young, too. Still, I hope Jazzi waits until she finishes college to even think about marriage.”
“Do you think she and Mark will last?”
“At separate schools, it’s hard to tell.”
“She might be a career woman,” Jonas noted.
“She might, and that’s okay, too.”
Jonas reached over and took her hand in his.
Though a buggy was a slower means of transportation, the ride to the covered bridge seemed to be a short one. In no time at all, they were stepping out of the buggy and watching the spectacle unfold before them. Amelia and her husband had opened a field where everyone who brought their cars could park. They also had erected temporary hitching posts, where horses and buggies and single riders could hitch their horses. Daisy suspected the ceremony itself would last about a half hour until the mayor said remarks and presented the plaque that would be hammered onto the covered bridge. There were makeshift stands with canopies all around the area selling items for the day. The scene was quite a melée of people and merchandise.
Daisy and Jonas were standing by the buggy in the field when she pointed to somebody. “There’s Brooks Landon and his dad.”
Suddenly Bob Weaver was standing beside Daisy. “Hi there,” he said. “Hot day for this.” He was wiping sweat off his brow.
“It is. But people love to come out for a celebration.”
“I noticed you have your eyes on Brooks.”
She introduced the two men, then said to Jonas, “I talked to Bob at the farmers market about Axel.”
“You can’t stop thinking about Axel, can you?” Bob eyed her with a wise man’s eyes.
“You’re right. I can’t stop thinking about Axel.”
Bob adjusted his cap and nodded to Brooks’s dad. “He was hard on his son. He expected Brooks to win every track competition. But Axel, Brooks, Perry, and Dylan Meyer were competitive. That’s what made their team of track runners great. There are lots of trophies for them in the case at the high school.”
“I spotted trophies in Brooks’s dad’s office at the tractor supply and in Perry Russo’s office.”
Bob nodded as if he expected no less. “Those boys were proud of what they accomplished.”
The mayor tested the microphone and spoke through the temporary sound system that had been set up. He welcomed everyone to the celebration, then motioned for Amelia Wiseman to come to the mike. “This woman is the one who set all this up. If it weren’t for her, this covered bridge would be falling apart.”
At the mike, Amelia spoke a few words and then showed the plaque that would be soon attached to the covered bridge.
Daisy leaned close to Jonas. “I see Bart over there. I’m going to talk to him for a few minutes.” Bart Cosner was a patrol officer who was handling some of the crowd today.
“Do you think he’ll tell you anything?”
“I can hope.”
Bart had become her friend over the years. Once in a while he let something slip about an investigation the department was handling. She sidled up next to him. “Are you going to buy a T-shirt?”
He noticed hers and smiled. “Maybe . . . as a souvenir. My wife wants one.”
“Are you just handling horse-and-buggy traffic, or are you keeping your eye on anyone in particular?”
“I’m keeping my eye on several people, many of whom Trevor Lundquist mentioned on his podcast.”
“Where is the investigation headed? Are you still concentrating on Henry’s murder?”
“Easy, Swanson, you know I can’t tell you particulars.”
“But you and the detectives want me to spill all the particulars that I find out about.”
“That’s true,” he responded with no remorse. “I will tell you this. Zeke and Morris are more certain that Henry’s murder and Axel’s disappearance are connected. You were right about that. And one of Henry’s friends has been cleared.”
“Which one?” She hoped Bart would at least give her that much.
“Dylan Meyer. He was at a business meeting, and there’s videotape with a time stamp.”
Amelia was still speaking to the crowd. Perry Russo passed nearby with a can of beer in his hand, then stopped to talk to Brooks.
Daisy prompted Bart. “Have you spoken to them?”
“We’ve tried,” Bart admitted. “Other than Meyer, none of them are happy about it, especially not Perry Russo.”
“What do you mean?”
“He hired a lawyer, and he won’t give us any useful information. Apparently, he’s forgotten that he was ever friends with Henry and Axel. If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is.”
Was Bart right about that? Did Perry’s actions put him in direct confrontation with the detectives? Bart was concentrating more thoroughly on him now. The question was—did Perry know something about Axel’s disappearance and Henry’s murder . . . or was he just protecting himself because he could?
* * *
Daisy had to admit she couldn’t wait to see how the celebration tea was proceeding at the tea garden. Jonas dropped her off and took the courting buggy back to Rachel’s farm.
Daisy walked in the front door instead of going through the back, simply to get a taste of the atmosphere. April was standing between two tables of six in the spillover tearoom, animatedly talking to their guests. Daisy always thought of them as “guests” rather than “customers.” Cora Sue was overseeing service in the spillover tearoom along with April. Tamlyn and Ruth Zook’s daughters, who often helped with service during Daisy’s specialty teas, were busy in the main tearoom. She didn’t see Ned but imagined he might be outside on the patio.
After she waved to Tamlyn, she went out there. Outside, she heard Ned’s guitar. He was standing at the far side of the patio in a puffy-sleeved shirt and buckskin trousers strumming. It was nice background music along with birdsong. She brushed past the pots of herbs, and the scent of rosemary and thyme followed her. Stopping to say hello to regular customers, she waved to Ned.
Soon Jazzi came out from the side door to the tearoom with a tray of mini sandwiches and scones mounted on the tiered plate. She nodded at her mom as she went to a table for four, carefully setting out the glasses of iced tea and the tray of savory as well as sweet treats. Daisy was debating which table she’d approach first when Trevor came running out to the patio from around the side of the building. He looked upset, maybe even stricken.
Daisy didn’t know what to expect, but she didn’t want to disturb her clientele. She pointed Trevor to the path that led to the creek and met him there. “What’s wrong?” she asked, because obviously something was.
“You need to have a talk with Zeke Willet.” Trevor’s face reddened with his words.
“Why would I do that?”
“Maybe Jonas should,” he mumbled.
“Trevor, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t understand what the problem is.”
“Zeke Willet accosted me at the newspaper office and practically threatened me.”
Daisy doubted that. Zeke could be tough, but she didn’t think he’d threaten Trevor. “What did he threaten you with?”
“He told me they could hit me with an obstruction-of-justice charge.”
“I’ve been threatened with that, too, not on this case, but on others. If they feel you’re impeding the investigation, they have cause. You know they do.”
“I’m not going to listen to him,” Trevor said stubbornly. “Tessa thinks I should, but I’m not going to. I’m going to solve this case before they do. In fact, I’m releasing another podcast today. You won’t believe how many comments I’m getting now. Sponsors are signing up. With the tourists this weekend, my podcasts should have even more listeners because word will get around among the celebration crowd.”
“How do you think you’re going to solve this case sooner than the police might?” Sometimes Trevor’s tactics worried her.
“I get information first. I have callers who are telling me things.”
“Exactly what things?” She could hardly believe they were standing here talking about murder with the scent of mown grass and a patio full of customers nearby. But this was Trevor. She had to deal with him, or he’d follow her wherever she went to say what was on his mind.
“I had a caller tell me that Axel’s crowd used to hang around the abandoned quarry. When I told Zeke that, he looked as if I’d turned a switch on. I think he’s going to go check it out. He stopped threatening me after that. I think he finally realizes the calls I’m getting are going to help him and me.”
The abandoned quarry was now a lake with fencing surrounding it and warnings posted. The kids these days, through a program at school, were warned not to go near it. The water was so cold that hypothermia was instantaneous if someone dove in . . . or fell in.
Was Zeke going to check it out because of the old crime or the new one? Maybe he’d simply given Trevor the impression he would check it out to redirect Trevor’s attention. Knowing Trevor, however, Daisy suspected he wouldn’t be easily redirected unless a new lead came in.
Did she hope it would . . . or hope it wouldn’t?