Chapter 6
Annie’s new dishwasher barely made a sound. Was it possible to love an appliance?
She straightened the kitchen table, where the boys had just been doing their homework. A pile for Ben. A pile for Sam. It was a half day of school today, which meant they’d gotten home around eleven o’clock. Mike was overseeing the baths—the boys had decided on early baths, since they didn’t get them last night.
She sat down at the table and started to sift through the stack of mail. The mail carrier didn’t seem to have a set schedule, which drove Annie crazy. In Washington, she could set her watch by the efficiency and timeliness of the mail carriers. Nothing exciting here: bills, junk mail, and—Oh, wait. A pretty blue envelope addressed to her.
She opened it and saw it was a lovely handmade Hanukkah card. Who could this be from? Her family had never even sent cards. Most of them didn’t practice at all anymore, let alone celebrate Hanukkah. But she did; now that she was a mother living in the Bible Belt she wanted her boys to know about their family traditions.
She opened the card and was surprised to see it was from Hannah, a young woman she’d met during the New Mountain Order murder cases from a few years ago.
“Honey, do we have any clean washcloths?” Mike yelled in from the bathroom.
“In the closet, Mike,” she yelled back.
“I don’t think so, honey,” he said, in a sing-song tone. He was trying not to lose patience with her. She was probably the world’s worst housekeeper.
She set the card on the table and went in to help Mike. Okay, so the washcloths weren’t where she said. But they were folded in a nice stack on the dryer.
“There ya go,” she said, handing the cloth to him. “Sorry. I guess I forgot to put them away.” But at the same time, he could have put them away himself. She stacked them neatly inside the bathroom closet before going back to the kitchen table and card.
Dear Annie, I want to wish you and your family a Happy Hanukkah. I miss seeing you at the farmers’ market and hope to see you in the spring again. I will be working all week at the bakery. Maybe you can stop by and see me? Love, Hannah.
That might be a good idea. Maybe she could pick up some baked goods for Hanukkah tomorrow.
Her mind sorted through memories of Hannah, how she’d befriended her during the investigation and had kept in touch. Hannah and her family were Old Order Mennonites, which meant they dressed in plain clothes, didn’t have cars, and didn’t use modern conveniences, like electricity. Hannah had been a good friend of the two women who had been murdered two years ago, one of whom was also a Mennonite.
A naked boy zoomed past her through the kitchen, giggling, as Mike followed with a towel.
“Ben, please,” Mike said.
“Why can’t we just all be naked?” Ben wondered, his curly hair wet and dripping.
“Silly boy,” Mike said, and grabbed him, toweled him off, then set him free. “Now go and get your pajamas on.”
Mike sat down on the chair next to Annie. “That boy,” he said, and grinned.
“Where’s his brother?” Annie asked.
“In bed, reading. You know, I miss reading to him, but I guess it’s a good thing that he wants to read himself.”
“I know. I miss it, too.”
“What’s that?” he said, pointing to her card.
“A Hanukkah card from Hannah. Remember her?”
“Oh boy, do I. How is she?”
Hannah had been next on the killer’s list; he had actually managed to kidnap and drug her before Detective Adam Bryant and his team found her. It took many months for the young woman to get over that.
“I think she’s fine,” Annie said. “She invited me to come to the bakery. Think I’ll go and pick up something for the first night of Hanukkah.”
“I have their whistles wrapped,” he told her.
“Oh good. The boys will love them, but I’m certain we’ll be sorry we bought them,” she said with a laugh.