I left the store lost in thought. The attack on Leah sounded so much like what happened to Grandfather Zook. The attacker came up from behind both of them when they were distracted by a task and threw bags over their heads. I shivered. It would be good advice to all the Amish to watch their backs.
I paused in the middle of the sidewalk. If there was a burlap bag over the girls’ heads, how did the attacker cut off their hair? Something about Leah’s story didn’t compute, and there wasn’t a burlap bag near Ezekiel Young’s body. His eyes were open and glassy when I found him. Of course, the attacker may have taken it with him. Ezekiel was stabbed in the back. Was it possible there were two Amish haircutters in the county? It was hard to believe. Timothy said nothing like this had ever happened in the district before.
“Red, if you think any harder, smoke’s gonna come out of your ears.”
I jumped away from the voice I knew too well. Curt.
He and Brock stood behind me, and I knew how they could sneak up on people without their knowledge. I started walking, unsure of where to go. I didn’t want them to follow me home although they already knew where I lived.
“Where are you going, Red?” Baby-faced Brock sneered at me. In two steps he was beside me matching my stride.
“Leave me alone.”
Brock shook his head. “I thought you would be happy to see us since we’ve been gone for a little while.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you can go back to jail.” I increased my pace, but it was still three strides to Brock’s one step.
Curt came up on my other side. “That hurts.”
My jaw twitched.
Brock cracked his knuckles. “Red still has all of her sauciness, Curt.”
Curt gave a dramatic sigh. “I noticed, brother.”
Brock rubbed his chin. “I heard you found a dead guy.”
I swung around. “What do you know about it?”
Curt’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing. Why would I know anything?”
I glared at Brock. “Do you know something?”
“Me. Nope. Nothing.”
“It’s not like you’d tell me if you did.”
Curt sucked air in through his teeth. “Why would we? So you can run to your Amish boyfriend or the chief and turn us in?”
Brock frowned. “I’m bummed. I thought you’d be the forgive-and-forget type, Red. Isn’t that what they preach in your church?”
“I’m out of here.” I walked faster.
“Now, wait a minute.” Brock stepped in front of me. “We want to talk to you.”
I dodged around him and headed in the direction of town hall.
Curt stopped on the sidewalk. “Looks like she’s walking us to the police station.”
I kept going.
Brock stopped too. “I’d rather not run into the chief. She’s hot and all but has an attitude worse than yours.”
“See you around, Red,” Brock called after me when I turned the corner of town hall. I stood outside the door to the village police station, trying to catch my breath. I bit my lip. Should I go inside and tell Chief Rose I saw Curt and Brock?
The navy blue metal door flew open and nearly missed my nose. The person on the other side pulled up short. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice was breathless.
It was an Amish woman, her eyes hidden by a large black bonnet.
“Sadie?”
She peered out from under the bonnet’s brim. “Hello.” She skittered about me and disappeared around the corner of town hall.
I hurried after her, Curt and Brock nowhere in sight. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She blinked at me from behind her glasses. “I need to return to the bakery.”
“What were you doing at the police station?”
She increased her pace. “I really must go.”
“Sadie, please, I was the one who found Ezekiel Young’s body.”
She pulled up short and turned around slowly. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“No,” she whispered.
I pointed at a park bench in front of town hall beneath the American flag. “Let’s sit for a minute.”
She sank onto the bench as if her legs no longer had the strength to hold her up. I sat next to her and noticed a quarter-sized abrasion on her cheek for the first time.
A hand flew to her cheek. “It’s getting better.”
“Is that from the attack?”
She lowered her shaking hand. “It’s from the bag that was over my head.”
Then the bag part was true.
“Were you at the police station to talk about your attack?”
She nodded slowly as if it took effort to move her head up and down.
“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask. “I thought you weren’t willing to speak to the police.”
“Ezekiel,” she whispered.
“Because of Ezekiel’s death?”
She turned to me. “We were going to get married, and now he’s gone.”
My mouth fell open. “Married?”
She removed a handkerchief from her sleeve and twisted it in her lap. “I went to the police to tell them what happened to me.” Self-consciously, she touched the back of her bonnet as if to feel for the missing bun there. “I will do anything to help find the person who did this.”
“What did Chief Rose say?”
“She was very kind. She will do what she can.”
“Who knew you and Ezekiel were to marry?”
“No one knew. I wanted to take it slow because Daed is the bishop. I didn’t want my family to deal with too much change all at once. I needed to be home to help Maam with the children. Daed is gone so much now. I told Ezekiel we could marry next year after life is calmer for my family. He was patient and agreed.”
In my mind, I tried to place grouchy Ezekiel Young and timid Sadie Hooley together as a married couple. The picture didn’t fit. “Did anyone in his family know? His mother?”
She shook her head.
“His twin brother?”
She worried her thumbnail. “No. Uri and Ezekiel were twins but not close.”
I wondered how they could keep this a secret in such a small place like Appleseed Creek. I told her about Grandfather Zook.
Sadie dropped her handkerchief on the sidewalk as her hands fluttered her mouth. “This person has to be stopped, which is why I went to the police. If my father or the deacon knew, I would be in trouble.”
I handed her the handkerchief. “I want to help the police find who’s responsible too.” I shifted in my seat. The chill from the cold, cement park bench crept into my back and thighs.
“The police asked for your help?”
I avoided the question. “Chief Rose has spoken to me about it.” I didn’t add that she was questioning me in relation to my discovery of Ezekiel Young’s body. “Can you tell me what you told her?”
“There’s not much to tell. It was early morning, a little before four o’clock. I was unlocking the back door to go into the bakery, the one in the alley. It was my turn to get the breads started for the day. Someone came up from behind me, threw a bag over my head and pushed me against the wall.” She shivered. I didn’t know if it was the result of the cold or the memory.
“Then what?”
“There are two steps in the alley to the back entrance. The person threw me off of the steps and pressed my face into the ground.” She touched her cheek again. “That is how I got this mark. After that, it was a blur because I was just trying to breathe. I felt his knees in my back and he pulled the bag up in the back, ripped off my bonnet, and cut off my bun. I can still hear the sound of the shears ripping through my hair. I will never forget the sound.” She folded and refolded the handkerchief in her gloved hands. “Then, I heard footsteps running away. I didn’t dare move until I knew he was gone. I don’t know how long I lay there frozen in fear. Esther found me.”
“Was it a man who attacked you?”
“I don’t know, but it must have been. The person on my back wore trousers. I would have known if the attacker had worn a skirt. I didn’t hear a woman’s skirts, which are always loud in the winter with all the layers.”
I didn’t bother to tell her that most non-Amish women wore pants. “Did the person say anything?”
“Not a word. I think that was one of the most frightening things about it.” She gave a shuddered sigh. “The chief said I was helpful, but I didn’t feel like I was.”
“When the person ran away, what did it sound like?”
She closed her eyes as if she was picturing the scene in her mind. “Loud footsteps.”
“More than one?”
“I—I don’t know. Maybe.” She frowned. “There was another sound. After the footsteps ran away, I heard a vehicle cut through the alley.”
“After the footsteps stopped?”
She nodded. “It could have been completely unrelated.”
Or it may have been the getaway car—or green truck.
“Did you tell Chief Rose all of this?”
“Yes.” She held the handkerchief over her eyes. “It’s too much . . .”
“I’m sorry about Ezekiel . . .”
“When my hair was cut, I thought that was the worst blow I could suffer. Ezekiel comforted me. He said it would grow back. But the last time I saw him we fought. I felt he should be more upset by what happened to me. He was sad of course, but not angry. I wanted him to be angry. He could become angry so easily over so many things. I thought this deserved his wrath.” Her breath caught. “I didn’t know then that I would suffer a much worse loss. I would shave my head to have my beloved back.” She buried her face in her handkerchief.
I placed a hand on her back. A large tour bus drove by on its way to the square. Tourists stared out the window at us, and I saw several iPhones and digital cameras pointed in our direction. What an interesting attraction we made. An English woman in jeans and a wool Old Navy coat comforting an Amish woman in skirts, cape, and bonnet. I suspected the shot would be floating somewhere on the Internet within seconds. In that instant, I understood why the Amish shied away from cameras.
She sat up. “Would you like to see?”
“Your hair?”
She nodded. “Maybe it will help you.”
I didn’t know how, but I agreed. She removed her bonnet. Instead of an elaborate bun there was a stubby ponytail, two inches long. Sadie had the bonnet off for only a few seconds. Thankfully, she replaced it before another tour bus made its way down the street.
“Thank you for talking to me,” I said.
She stood and tucked her handkerchief back into her sleeve. “I know hatred is wrong, but I hate whoever did this. Please find them, and stop them.”
A knot grew in my stomach. “I’ll try.” How could I ever make such a promise?
She thanked me and continued down the sidewalk. I watched her go. I needed to pay a visit to the Young family to see if Sadie and Ezekiel’s engagement was as well a kept secret as they had thought.