Jesse scowled at the yellowed Formica tabletop as he waited for his brother to be brought into the visitors’ room. The Middlebury police station was small. There was one room for visiting and one table in the room. Two metal chairs with black seats that were not leather finished out the furniture. Three walls in the room were painted a light gray, which served to render the place more depressing. The last wall, the one with the door, was solid windows. The entire room couldn’t have been bigger than ten feet by ten feet.
He supposed Andrew might be the only prisoner that day, which would explain why he didn’t have to wait long to see him.
What did the cells look like?
And how did his brother cope with being locked inside?
Before he could add more questions to his list, Andrew walked into the room, head held high though his hands were cuffed in front of him.
The officer sat him at the table, then retreated to wait outside the room. Jesse had already been searched, so there was no chance that he’d sneak anything to his brother, not that he’d know what to sneak someone in jail. To him, that would be the height of foolishness, as if this situation could get any worse.
“Glad you came to visit me.”
Jesse stared at him, temporarily unable to speak. He’d never seen his brother in an orange jumpsuit before. He’d seen him in Englisch clothes, the one time he’d visited him in Chicago. This was much worse. The orange material cast a yellow tint to Andrew’s skin, and the fact that it was overalls he was wearing, something an Amish person would never purchase or wear, served to highlight the seriousness of this situation.
“How are Mamm and Dat?”
“They’re doing as well as can be expected. They thought it best for me to be the one to come see you. But I didn’t come to talk about Mamm and Dat. I came to tell you about Mary.”
“Mary?”
Suddenly Jesse felt angry again. He wanted answers, and he had a feeling Andrew still wasn’t ready to give them.
“Mary Weaver? Maybe you remember her. Nice lady, never married, works at The Cat’s Meow at the Village. You gave the note she received to Hannah. You know that she was friends with Owen, and now she’s missing!”
“Slow down, bruder. You’re telling me that Mary is—”
“She’s gone. No one knows where. Amber talked to her parents, but they say she probably went visiting family. As if Mary would ignore her responsibilities and leave town without telling anyone.”
“No. Mary would never do that.”
“How do you know what Mary would or wouldn’t do? Tell me, how is she involved in this?”
Instead of answering his questions, Andrew sat back and studied the ceiling for a minute. When he finally met Jesse’s gaze again, he said, “Maybe it’s for the better that she’s gone. She’ll probably be safer out of town.”
“What do you mean? What do you know that you’re not telling me?”
Andrew raised his hands, still cuffed, and made a keep-your-voice-down gesture. The arrogant teenage look fell away, and in its place Jesse found himself looking into the worried eyes of a man, looking into the eyes of someone he didn’t know.
“I want you to listen to me. I have a lawyer coming—”
“A lawyer? How are you going to afford that?”
“Listen and stop asking questions.”
“Who is it?”
Andrew sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the confident boy Jesse knew so well was back. “Adalyn Landt, a woman whose office is in Shipshe. She’s represented Amish folks before.”
“I’ve never heard of her.”
“You’ve never needed her.”
“And you do now?”
“Ya. Tomorrow will be the initial hearing. Adalyn will help me through that.”
“And how will you pay her?”
“My job will pay her, if I’m found innocent.”
The clock on the wall ticked, filling the silence between them. Finally Jesse asked, “What job?”
“That’s not important right now. You go home and tell Mamm and Dat that I’m doing fine and I’ll be home soon.”
“I won’t lie to them—”
“It’s not a lie. Have faith, Jesse.” Andrew stood, attracting the attention of the officer who waited outside the door. Cherry Brookstone walked into the room to escort Andrew back to his cell.
“Come back tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock.”
“I have to be at work for the early shift.”
“Then ask off. Be here at eight, and I’ll explain everything to you and Adalyn.”
If Cherry had a reaction to those words, she hid it well. Andrew didn’t look back as she ushered him out.
The door clicked shut behind them. Jesse was left staring at the Formica. He probably should have left right away, but instead he sat there with his head in his hands, trying to make sense of what Andrew had said.
Why wouldn’t he tell him what was going on now?
He knew his brother wasn’t guilty of murder, but he was involved in something. What? And was it dangerous?
Regardless, he knew he would be back the next morning. First he needed to ask for the shift off. Maybe he could trade with someone. Then he needed to go and speak to Hannah.
“Mary’s gone.”
Amber sank into a chair next to the front window in A Simple Blend and accepted the drink Hannah handed her—espresso with whipped cream. A perfect blend, though it did little to soothe her worried heart. She was glad Hannah had stayed at the shop later in the afternoon than she usually did so she could see her there.
“Gone?”
“Gone.”
“You’re positive?”
“She didn’t show for work today. Not even a phone call explaining why, so I went to her house after Tate stopped by my office. Did I tell you Tate’s home?”
“He is. He came home early.” Amber sipped the hot drink, hoping it would jump-start her brain. “After he left this morning, I drove out and spoke to her parents. She left the funeral early yesterday, telling her parents she wasn’t feeling well.”
“She told me she wasn’t feeling well too. So she’s still not home? She wasn’t there when we stopped by in the afternoon. Her parents weren’t even home from the funeral yet.”
“No, she’s not. Last night she didn’t come down for dinner. Her mom went upstairs to check on her and found her room empty.”
“Empty?” Hannah’s voice rose a notch, causing Seth to look up from the counter where he was restocking sugar, cream, and napkins. “How empty?”
“Her two extra dresses were gone. She also took her Bible and her knitting bag.” Amber sipped the coffee, but it wasn’t clearing the cobwebs from her head fast enough.
“Mary carries that bag with her everywhere.” Hannah looked as miserable as Amber felt.
“I’m not actually surprised. The note warned her to leave.” Amber tapped a nail against the side of her coffee cup. Surely there was a way they could locate Mary. A way to be sure she was all right.
“But it’s worrisome. What if she’s hurt or lost or confused? What if she’s been . . .” Hannah stumbled over the next word and settled on, “injured, like Owen?”
Amber wanted to promise her that such a thing couldn’t happen, not again. But her own anxiety was making her jumpy. She’d feel like a fake reassuring Hannah when her own doubts were so strong.
“Did her parents call the police?”
“No. They said she’d probably gone to visit a relative. They know she’s been very upset since Owen died. Somehow they didn’t think it so odd she would leave without telling them—maybe she’s more independent than I would have thought—but they assumed she’d informed someone here at the Village. I mentioned Mary hadn’t asked for any time off. When I told her parents that, her mother said maybe she’d forgotten she was scheduled to work.”
“Doesn’t sound like Mary. And she’s a manager! She cares about her shop. I can’t imagine her just abandoning the place.”
“I called the police station, but it’s not a criminal matter at this point. She hasn’t been missing long enough, and there’s no sign of foul play. You’d think her getting a warning note like she did, though . . .”
Hannah stared out the window, and Amber gave her a moment to digest all the new information.
While she waited, she sipped her coffee and studied Hannah. The girl had endured a lot of stress recently. First Owen’s murder, then worries about Mary, and finally Andrew’s arrest—to say nothing about her natural concern for Jesse. Now Mary seemed to be in real trouble, something bad enough to cause her to leave town.
“So at the funeral was the last time you saw her?”
“Yes. Like I said, she told me she wasn’t feeling well and that she was going home. But of course I also saw her the day before, at the viewing. That was when she and Andrew were reading over the note.” Hannah pulled on her kapp strings, worrying them between her fingers.
Silence enveloped them as they stared at each other. The quiet was broken by Seth, blending something behind the counter. When he finally finished, the lack of noise was a blessed balm.
“Here. Drink this.” Seth set a fruit drink in front of Hannah. “Lots of vitamins. It’ll help you think.”
Hannah whispered, “Danki,” but didn’t even attempt a smile.
Amber leaned forward and claimed the girl’s hands in her own. “We still have hope. God gives us that, right? He tells us to hope in him and that we can trust things will work out as they should.”
Tears began to fall down Hannah’s face. Seth fidgeted from left foot to right foot, then apparently decided she needed napkins to wipe her face. He brought her a stack several inches tall.
“I don’t have enough tears left in me to use all of these, Seth.” Her voice wobbled, but she did manage a tiny smile.
“Ya, but best to be prepared. That’s an important thing I’ve learned from you. When we’re prepared, we’re better able to handle what happens. Like when Mary stopped by here yesterday afternoon.”
Amber’s heart forgot to beat while she processed what Seth had said. She stared at Hannah. The girl’s expression must have mirrored her own—uncertainty, shock, and beneath that a small measure of hope.
Hannah had been holding the fruit drink, but she set it down gently on the table and turned her attention to Seth. “Did you say she came by here?”
“Ya.”
“Yesterday afternoon?”
“Ya.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me before now?”
Seth stared down at the floor, fidgeting with his suspenders as he tried to think how best to answer. Finally he said, “Didn’t seem important until now.”
Amber patted the vacant chair next to her. “Sit down, Seth.”
“Of course you’re not in trouble. Relax.”
“All right.” He didn’t look relaxed. His shoulders were tight, his eyes moved from right to left, and he couldn’t seem to find a place to put his hands.
“Start from the beginning, Seth.”
“You mean the first day I worked here?”
Hannah closed her eyes, and Amber knew she was counting to ten.
Amber picked up her coffee and sipped it, trying to appear casual. “No, let’s start with the last time you saw Mary. This was yesterday afternoon?”
“Ya. It was nearly time to close. I’d mopped the floor and was about to put the chairs back down because it had dried.”
“Why did she come to the Village? She already had someone covering for her at The Cat’s Meow because she was going to be at the funeral. Was she looking for Hannah?”
Hannah placed both palms flat against the table and stared directly into Seth’s eyes. “What did she say, exactly?”
Seth rubbed his forehead as if that would help him to remember. “First, she did ask if you were here. I thought that was odd because she should have known you were at the funeral.”
“Did she look afraid? Or worried? Or—”
“She looked like Mary. No different from any other day.”
Amber smiled at Seth. “You’re doing great. This could be very helpful, Seth. Now, after she asked you if you were alone, what else did she say?”
“She wanted to know if I’d seen Uri Wagler anywhere around.”
“Uri Wagler?” Hannah frowned. “He never comes by the Village. Why would she ask about him?”
“I don’t know, but she seemed relieved when I said no.”
“Anything else?” Amber was already gathering her keys, coffee, and purse.
“Nein. She might have wanted to say more, but a customer walked in and she left. Oh. I did notice she had two small bags with her. That’s why I said she looked prepared.”
“Bags?” Heather stared at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think that odd?”
“Nein. Why would I? Women carry all sorts of bags. One had her knitting things—I could tell that because some needles were sticking out the top. The other was a plain canvas bag with handles. Like you would use for an overnight case.”
“Big enough to hold two dresses and a Bible?” Amber asked.
“Ya. I suppose so.”
“Thank you, Seth.” Amber stood and tugged on Hannah’s arm. “You’re scheduled to cover the shop for the rest of the day?”
When he nodded in the affirmative, she said, “We’ll be going now, but if you see Mary again, you call me right away. Understand?”
“Sure. I’ll call the office.”
“Call my cell phone, Seth. Here’s a copy of the number if you don’t have it.” She pulled a card from her purse. “You call me if you see Mary or hear anything from her or about her.”
Hannah allowed herself to be pulled out into the afternoon sunlight. The weather seemed in direct opposition to their moods. It should be cloudy and storming, with lightning striking in a haphazard fashion. Instead, the sun shone with a special brilliance, and the flowers the grounds crew had planted bobbed their colors in the light breeze.
They followed the path that circled the pond. Amber didn’t stop until they’d reached a bench halfway around the circle. She wanted to give Hannah some distance from the shop. She wanted the fresh air to clear her head. It must have been a shock to learn that Mary had been looking for her moments before she left town.
“Tell me who Uri is.”
“He’s no one.” When Amber gave her a tell-me-more stare, she added, “He’s a guy in our church. I don’t see how Mary asking about him could be related.”
“But she did ask about him right before she left. It’s related. Do you know Uri?”
“Not well.”
“But you know him.”
“Ya. Our church is not large. Everyone knows everyone else.”
“And you know Uri.”
“Him and his wife, Olivia. No kids, though.” Hannah made a face and stared at the ground.
“What? What does that look mean?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing important.”
“Spill. It could be the one thing that turns us in the right direction. We need to crack this case!”
“But the police are working the case. You said so.”
“True. They’re working Owen’s case, but they don’t seem all that concerned about Mary and the note threatening her. She’s the person I’m worried about right now. Her involvement has bothered me since the beginning. Since Owen’s phone was found beside his dead body.”
“With her number on the screen.”
“Yes. He called her, apparently seconds before he was shot. Now tell me about Uri and Olivia.”
Hannah waited to speak until two girls who worked in the restaurant passed by. “Uri and Olivia are not the most pleasant couple in our church.”
“Go on.”
“There was some talk of Uri leaving a few years ago, leaving the church and Olivia.”
“Divorce? I thought that wasn’t allowed among the Amish.”
“It’s not, but of course the bishop can’t stop someone from leaving the Amish church and seeking a divorce in an Englisch court. The one who is left behind, though, they are considered still married.”
Amber tried to comprehend that, but before she could fully wrap her mind around it, Hannah continued.
“Which isn’t important in any way, because Uri came back and everything’s been fine, or if not fine, at least back to normal.”
“And Mary knows them?”
“I don’t think she knows them well. Uri and Olivia keep to themselves.”
Amber checked her watch. A few minutes after three. They had time.
“Do you know where they live?”
“Ya.”
“I want you to take me to them.”