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Instead of going straight home from the bishop’s, Agatha drove to her friend Rebecca’s farm. The Miller clan was large, owing to the fact that Rebecca, Saul and all eight of their grown children had opted to move to Texas. Rebecca’s place was always full of grandchildren, and visiting her sometimes helped Agatha when she was feeling out of sorts.
She directed the buggy mare to turn into the lane and wasn’t a bit surprised when Doc picked up her gait. Even the horse enjoyed visiting the Millers. Bicycles were scattered here and there across the front yard, and the garden was a riot of color. Becca was at the door before Agatha could even knock.
“I came by your place earlier in the week.” Becca enfolded her in a hug then held her at arm’s length. “Are you okay?”
“Ya. Of course. I’m fine.”
Becca was the same age as Agatha—in fact, they shared a birthday month. Two inches taller and twenty pounds lighter, she felt as much like a sister as a best friend. Her blonde hair was now white, which always surprised Agatha until she remembered that her own hair had turned decidedly gray in the last year. Well, that was the way of things.
“You were at the police station.”
“I can assure you that was quite an experience.”
They had walked into the kitchen, where there were always a pot of coffee on the stove and fresh baked goods on the counter. These days, there was also always a baby in the playpen set up in the corner.
“Give me that boppli, please. I believe holding a child just might be the medicine I need today.”
“Luke certainly enjoys being held. With all of his bruders and schweschdern, he spends next to no time in his crib.”
Agatha stared down at the two-month-old in her arms. He’d stopped fussing and watched her as if she was the most surprising thing he’d seen all day. She found herself making cooing sounds to him, which caused him to smile, laugh, and kick out his feet.
“Oh, he’s a charmer.”
“For sure and certain. Put him on your shoulder. He’ll be out in five minutes.”
By the time Agatha had recounted her visit to the Hunt Police Department, Luke was sound asleep. Becca carried him over to the playpen, then poured two cups of coffee and pushed one into Agatha’s hands. “Unless you’d rather have iced tea.”
“I may live in Texas, but I am still Amish.”
She realized she’d missed lunch, so it didn’t seem out of order to eat a few of Becca’s molasses cookies. It was important that she keep up her strength. She caught Becca up on all that had occurred, sparing no details. It helped to go over everything again, to realize all that had happened in the last week.
They’d finished their coffee, and Becca had brought out her knitting. “Help me wind this yarn?”
“Of course.”
She slipped her hands through the yarn and held it twelve inches apart. Doing something so simple and natural as unlooping the skein of pastel blue yarn pulled all the tension from Agatha’s body.
“I needed this.”
“Did you, now?”
“A little normalcy.”
Two grandkinner ran through the kitchen, and Becca reminded them not to wake the baby.
“It’s gut that you have so much time with your grandkinners.”
“Do you still plan to go home in August?”
“Ya. It’s my slowest month, and I’m looking forward to the trip.”
“Having second thoughts about living so far away from your family?”
“Not at all. In fact, Marcus wrote me about coming down to stay with me next year. He’s my oldest grandson and has always been the restless sort. His parents agree that time away might be good for him.”
“I’m sure you’ll find plenty for him to do.”
“Provided I’m not in jail.”
Becca paused in winding the yarn. “Tell me you’re not worried that might happen.”
“I know I didn’t kill him, but convincing Lieutenant Bannister of that is another matter. He seems rather focused on proving it’s me.”
“It’s a gut thing you have Tony on your side. He’s been a real Godsend.”
“And to think I barely knew him a week ago.”
“Life is full of surprises. What’s he like?”
“Quiet, kind, and still grieving. Though I’m not sure he realizes it. When I handed him a basket full of dinner the other night, he looked for all the world like a child who had lost his puppy. I could tell he was thinking of Camilla.”
“He needs a friend, and you need a detective.” Becca winked at her. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
“I hope you’re not suggesting there’s anything romantic between us.”
“Nein.” Becca pressed her lips together, but her grin widened.
“The last time you set me up with someone was a disaster.”
“How was I to know Nathan loved goats so?”
“He talked about them nonstop for three hours.”
“Perhaps he was nervous.”
Agatha rubbed her nose with her shoulder, then motioned for Becca to continue winding the yarn. “The only way to clear my name is to find out who did this, but I can’t imagine who that might be. Honestly, it’s difficult for me to conceive why one person would find it necessary to kill another. I can’t imagine harboring that kind of hatred.”
Becca wrinkled her nose.
“What?”
“There’s nothing simple about people. It seems to me that our emotions and minds don’t always work together.”
“Like when my mind tells me there’s nothing to worry about, that Gotte has my life in His hands, but my heart is still beating quickly from fear.”
“Exactly.” Becca hesitated before going on, as if she were weighing her words. Finally she glanced up from the yarn. “Did I ever tell you about the time my mamm fell for a scam?”
“Your mamm? She was the most practical person I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot given the general no-nonsense attitude of Amish folk.”
“Right? Well, this must have been...oh, twenty years ago. She was in her seventies.”
“Not that old.”
“Ha, ha. Remember when we were youngies, and we thought thirty was old?”
“Now seventy sounds like a spring chicken. Perhaps that’s a lie we tell ourselves.”
“Or perhaps we have a better perspective on what aging does and doesn’t mean as we get older ourselves. Anyway, someone had contacted mamm through the phone shack. He claimed he was with the IRS and that she owed money.”
They finished rolling the yarn into a ball. Becca dropped it into her knitting basket, then walked to the sink and fetched a glass of water. “It seems so long ago, but now with all this talk about Russell Dixon and his scams, well...it brings back what mamm went through.”
“Your dat was already passed?”
“Ya, and mamm was living with us. Probably that’s what saved her. This man told her to meet him at the bank and withdraw the money. If she did so, there wouldn’t be any additional penalties.” Becca pursed her lips, met Agatha’s gaze, and continued. “I happened to be gathering eggs and found her hitching our old mare to the buggy. She was so agitated. I can remember it as if it were yesterday.”
“So you stopped her?”
“We did, but it wasn’t easy. She was absolutely certain that this person was telling the truth and that she needed to go to town and pay him. Then later, after we’d finally convinced her otherwise, she was embarrassed and also quite angry.”
“He’d made a fool of her, but she had to know that wasn’t her fault. That’s what scammers do. They prey on people’s fears and emotions.”
“Exactly. Still, it took some time before she let that incident go.” Becca sat back down next to Agatha, close enough that their knees were touching. “I’d find her beating rugs clean, and I’d know by the way she was taking after that dirt—she was thinking of him.”
“Big difference between being angry enough to take your frustrations out on a rug and being angry enough to kill someone.”
“True, but then mamm didn’t have that much money to lose—though it was her little nest egg. Also, she had us to take care of her. Imagine if you’d lost your entire life savings.”
“So you think it could have been one of the Amish couples who killed Dixon?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t met any of the parties involved.”
“Joseph and Miriam Beiler, Jan and Henry Glick, and Ella and James Fisher. All pleasant, quiet couples, and they all seemed nice enough to me.”
“But people only present the side they want us to see. That’s true of Amish and Englisch.”
Agatha felt a tightening in her chest. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to still her heart, which suddenly acted as if she’d been the one standing outside beating rugs. “How do I know if someone is showing their true self or not?”
Becca covered Agatha’s hand with her own, and that simple touch managed to calm the fear that had momentarily threatened to overwhelm her. “We will pray that Gotte directs your path and gives you wisdom.”
“Yes, and if He could do both quickly that would be very much appreciated.”