CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
We got into the car and watched as Deputy Aiden walked back to the warehouse. I glanced at Lois. “A book? That was the best excuse you could come up with for our being there?”
“I didn’t hear you come up with anything better. Besides, when Bryan said he was writing a book, I thought, why can’t I?”
I shook my head. “Who’s Bryan?”
“Bryan back at the café!” She couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. “You met him yesterday afternoon. He’s writing the great American novel, and I figure if he can do it, so can I. There’s no time like the present, so I decided while we were standing there that it was just what I was going to do! Remember when we were young and used to love to write?”
Now that she mentioned it, I did remember Lois writing stories when we were girls. She loved even more for us to act them out in my family’s cow barn. She said the hayloft made a great stage and the cattle a good audience. We performed countless numbers of her plays there until we were too old to see the joy in it any longer.
Lois grinned. “I can tell that you are remembering some of my old plays. My favorite was The Pirate and the Lost Maiden.”
My face broke into a matching grin. “That was my favorite too.”
“I know. You always wanted to be the pirate.”
“Could you blame me? Besides, that maiden was missing for so much of the play, she was hardly on the stage.”
“Good point.” She settled her giant purse on my lap. I hoped it wouldn’t leave a bruise.
“Even though you liked to write plays when we were children, I don’t know how that translates to writing now.”
“Are you kidding? I have the perfect material.”
“What?”
“You!”
“What?”
“Just think of it, Amish Marple Mysteries. They would sell like hotcakes. I bet half the publishers in New York would be interested.”
I scowled at her. “I don’t want to be in a book.”
“Don’t you worry, I will change your name. It will be great!” She rubbed her hands together. “Of course, Amish Marple will have to have a brilliant yet slightly zany sidekick.” She half bowed in her seat. “Ta-da, I’m perfect for the role.”
I sighed.
* * *
The next morning, Lois’s car rolled up my driveway a little before nine. She was late, just as she had been the day before. She hopped out of the car, and the goats ran to greet her. She was quickly becoming one of their favorite new friends.
I walked over to the trio, and Lois grinned at me. I noted that today she wore silver jewelry and pink eyeshadow.
“Where to next?” she asked when I reached the car and the goats began dancing around her.
“I think it’s high time I had a heart-to-heart with Edith over everything that’s happened.”
She raised her fist. “To the greenhouse, it is.”
At the greenhouse, Lois parked her car by the hitching post. There wasn’t a single Amish buggy tethered to the post, and there weren’t any cars in the parking lot either.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Lois said.
I did too. It might be Wednesday, but it was still May, the time of year when people bought the most plants. The greenhouse would have been open for several hours now, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. I got out of the car. Despite the lack of customers, I had at least expected to hear the sounds of children playing somewhere on the property.
The only thing I heard was the rustle of the breeze in the trees and the mooing of a cow at a farm nearby.
Lois stood next to me and twisted one of the many rings on her fingers. “This is creepy. Where is everyone?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know. “Let’s check the house.” I walked up to the front door and tried the doorknob. It didn’t turn. I knocked. No answer. The house was locked up tight.
I stepped back from the front door. “They still might be here. They’re probably all in the greenhouse. Sometimes Edith likes the children to stay in there with her while she’s working, so she can keep an eye on them.”
“Wouldn’t the children be in school?”
“You’re right. I should have thought of that sooner,” I said, feeling a little bit more at ease that there was some kind of explanation for the lack of people about. “The boys will be in school. Ginny most likely is with her mother. Edith wouldn’t want her to be inside the house alone. I was here very early in the morning yesterday. My nephew Enoch is visiting. I don’t see his car now though, so he must have left.”
She held up her hand. “Wait, Enoch is here? I thought he was English.”
“He is,” I said. “He’s back for a visit.” I didn’t say any more than that. Lois didn’t know about my complicated history with Enoch, since he’d left the Amish community long after she moved away. I saw no reason to rehash it now, especially since Enoch had forgiven me. It was time to forget those difficult times in the past and move on to the challenges of the present. The first of the challenges being to find my niece.
“Isn’t it strange the door is locked though?” Lois asked. “Most Amish I know leave their homes unlocked during the day. Maybe not the ones in the village, but the ones living this far out from the touristy areas do.”
“I think considering what happened to Zeke, my niece is just trying to be cautious.”
Lois nodded and followed me to the greenhouse. I walked quickly. I wanted to see with my own eyes that Edith and Ginny were safe.
When we were within a few feet of the greenhouse, the five kittens that the children were playing with the day before galloped out from under the house. Peaches raced toward me and before I could stop him, he climbed up my skirt and tucked his little peach body into my apron pocket. “What on earth do you think you are doing, little one?”
“Oh my word!” Lois cried. “Aren’t they the cutest things you ever saw? Is your niece going to keep them all or find homes for them? I think one of these little kittens would be just the thing to cheer up Darcy. She has always loved cats.”
I patted Peaches’s velvety head.
He looked up at me with big amber eyes and mewed, scrunching up his pink nose as he did. Oh dear, it seemed to me that the children might be right—the goats were going to have a younger brother. I had always been an animal lover. Anytime a runt had been born on the farm, I would beg my father to give it to me to nurse back to health. Peaches seemed to know that and had plans to come home with me.
The mother cat was a large, long-haired, white beauty, and she walked behind us, nervously glancing at my apron pocket. I wondered if she was considering taking the kitten from my pocket by force. I wouldn’t have blamed her. If I was in her position, I would have felt the same way. I lifted the kitten from my large pocket and set him on the grass next to his mother among his white and orange brothers and sisters, who didn’t seem to have the least bit of interest in me. That’s the way it was with animals.
“There you are,” I said to the mother cat. “He’s safe and sound. He won’t be leaving you for a while.” I nodded to the little cat. “You have some growing up to do before you come home with me, little one.”
“I knew you would decide to take the little kitten home the moment you picked him up.”
“He’s a gut match for me,” I said with a laugh.
Lois rubbed her chin. “Maybe the matchmaker angle would be good to work into an Amish Marple book. It’s like a mystery and a love story!”
I groaned. “Why don’t we find Edith and you can plot your book later?”
“Fair enough, but I’ve got so many ideas.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said.
“This place feels spooky, it’s so quiet,” Lois said.
I swallowed. I wouldn’t admit it to Lois but there was an unsettling feeling on the farm. I wouldn’t use her word “spooky”; no Amish woman would. All I knew was I didn’t want to go into the greenhouse.
Lois and I stepped into the outer part of the greenhouse, where the cash register and gardening supplies like soil, water hoses, fertilizer, and garden tools were kept. Through the archway that led into the rest of the greenhouse, I could hear running water. I was right: Edith was there watering the plants. I’d worried over nothing.
When I stepped into the greenhouse, the coolness of the room hit me. It was still much warmer than outside, but not nearly as warm as it would be at the height of the day when the sun was shining down on the building.
I wrapped my shawl more tightly around my shoulders. I had expected to see Edith or Ginny when I came into the greenhouse, but instead there was a man there, watering the tables of plants. I froze, and Lois walked right into my back with an “oomph.”
“Millie, you can’t stop in the middle of the road like that.” She rubbed her nose. “Am I bleeding?”
I examined her nose. “You’re fine.”
Tucker Leham dropped his hose on the ground and the water sprayed Lois and me.
“Ahh!” Lois cried. “I can’t get my hair wet—I don’t have another appointment for a week.”
It wasn’t nearly so bad as Lois made it seem. The worst of the wetting was a splash of water on our shoes. I kicked water off the toe of my black sneakers. “Tucker, what are you doing here?” I asked a little more loudly than I intended, but there are few things I disliked more in this world than wet feet. I couldn’t wait to get home and change my shoes.
He scooped up his hose and turned the nozzle off. “Oh, Millie, you scared me half to death.” He blushed as he said the words. I’m sure he was remembering a man had died in the greenhouse. “Did I get you a little wet?”
“More than a little,” Lois muttered. “Thankfully, my hair is okay. Had it been ruined, this would all go a lot differently.”
Tucker stared at Lois with wide eyes. It was an expression that I had seen on many Amish faces when they looked at her. Her spiky red hair was very different from what we were used to in the Amish world.
“What are you doing here?” I asked for a second time.
He blinked. “Watering and pruning the plants, the same things I have been doing here for the last fifteen years.”
“Wait,” Lois said. “I heard that you were fired by Edith.”
He looked at her. “Who are you?”
She put her hands on her hips and her large purse thumped against her thigh as she moved. “If you don’t answer our questions, I’m your worst nightmare.”
Tucker looked like he might cry.
“Tucker, this is my friend Lois.” I glanced at Lois out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t appear intimidating to me. “She won’t hurt you.” I wasn’t sure what I was saying was true, but Tucker seemed to need to be comforted.
“I’m also her driver,” Lois said as if that gave her some kind of credibility.
It took all my strength not to sigh aloud. In a much calmer voice, I said, “I’m surprised you are here if you aren’t working at the greenhouse any longer.”
“I was not let go by Edith. Zeke was the one who fired me.” He held up his hose as if to protect himself with it.
“Hey, watch where you point that,” Lois said, gesturing to the nozzle.
Tucker held the hose nozzle listlessly in his hand. “I wasn’t going to spray you.”
“Tell that to my shoes. These are vintage Keds too. They had better come out just like new from the washer, or you will be getting me a new pair.”
I looked down at Lois’s shoes, which were white sneakers covered with a tropical bird pattern.
“Lois,” I said as calmly as I could. “We need to concentrate on the task at hand.”
“Right Amish Mar—”
I gave her a look and she stopped just short of saying my full code name. I think it said a lot that I had come to accept the fact that I even had a code name.
“I came over this morning to offer my help to Edith. Now that Zeke—” He swallowed hard. “Now that Zeke can no longer help her, I wanted to go back to work. I know she can use it. This is a big property, and there is a lot to do. Not that Zeke did all that much work before he . . .”
I wasn’t the least bit surprised Tucker couldn’t seem to say that Zeke was dead.
He swallowed again as if to regain control over himself. “I knew I needed to help her. The greenhouse is hard to manage all on your own, and Zeke had run off most of the staff.”
I raised my brow.
“The more I hear about Zeke, the more that I dislike him,” Lois said.
I said a silent prayer for Carolina Miller, Zeke’s mother, hoping that she wasn’t hearing poor opinions of her son now that he had passed. The only person we’d talked to who had something nice to say about the man was Carter Young, who said he was a skilled worker, but even Carter said that Zeke had a bad attitude at work sometimes.
He nodded. “I was the last person left, and Zeke finally got rid of me too. I suppose that a lot of those folks who left will come back now that he’s gone. No one wanted to leave Edith; she’s so sweet.” He stared at his black shoes. “Or they will if she has enough money to pay them.”
Lois looked around the empty greenhouse. “You’re going to need customers for that.”
She had a point. The flowers and other plants were lovely and well cared for, but they needed somewhere to go, somewhere to live, or they would die just as Zeke had.
“Where is Edith now?” Lois asked.
“Enoch took her into town.” Tucker sprayed water on a row of petunias. “He said that she had to go down to the sheriff’s office to give them her fingerprints.”
I had forgotten. I should have remembered the fingerprints. I had wanted to go with my niece to the sheriff’s department. There were a few questions I had for Deputy Aiden. However, I was glad that she wasn’t alone, and Enoch did appear that morning to be the kind and attentive brother he had been when they were small. I prayed that this new Enoch would remain in Holmes County. I knew it was far too much to wish for him to rejoin our Amish district, but I knew it would mean a lot to his sister—and frankly, to me—if he was nearby. There were many people who’d grown up in Amish families living in Holmes County and they continued to be close to their Amish relatives even though they didn’t belong to the Old Order. There was no reason in my mind that Enoch should have to run off again—to wherever he had been these last ten years. Since he was never baptized into the Amish church, he wouldn’t have to worry about being shunned by our community. Although I knew there would be some, like Ruth Yoder, who would never be completely comfortable with his presence.
“And Ginny?” I asked. “Where is she?”
“They took the little girl with them. The boys are in school. They should be coming home in another hour or so.”
I raised my eyebrows. I found it a bit surprising that he knew the boys’ school schedule so well.
“I meet them at the bus with my buggy when Edith is away. It’s a favor that I have done for her for a long time. We are like . . .” He trailed off and shook his head. “I like Edith’s children. All three of them are kind and funny. Micah can be a troublemaker, but he means well.”
I nodded, feeling marginally better that Edith and the children were accounted for.
“You saw Enoch?” I asked.
“I did. He’s Englisch,” he said as if he was telling me my nephew had some kind of dreaded disease. It seemed to me in Tucker’s estimation being Englisch was a fate worse than death.
“He’s been Englisch for a very long time,” I said.
Lois bristled. “You got something against English, young man?”
His eyes wide, he said, “Nee.”
I smiled at Tucker. “Can you excuse us for a moment?” I pulled Lois away from him and walked toward the front door. “Lois, why don’t you go outside and wait for me while I talk to Tucker?”
“What? You don’t want me here? I’m supposed to be your sidekick.” She held up her purse. “I have the gear and the muscle too, to back it up.”
“I don’t need gear or muscle right now, but I would like to hear what Tucker might know about Zeke’s murder. He’s not going to talk to me with you standing there looking so tough. He’s scared of you.”
She nodded knowingly. “I do have that impact on some men. Many times I wished I’d scared Rocksino-guy away, but he kept coming like a cockroach that would not die.”
I grimaced at the image. “If you go outside, it will give you time to snoop around the greenhouse. Wouldn’t you like that?”
She nodded. “I love a good snoop.” She cocked her head. “But if you think that Reuben was the one who was running away from the greenhouse after the murder, why are we still asking questions?”
“I know he was here that morning, but I don’t know for sure he killed Zeke, and I didn’t see him in the greenhouse when I first found Edith with Zeke’s body in the cactus room. I was looking everywhere for Edith. I know I would have seen him.” I paused. “I think I would have seen him.”
“Maybe he came back because he forgot something at the murder scene. Perps always come back to the scene,” Lois said. “That’s what all the cop shows have taught me.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” I saw no reason to trust anything on Englisch television.
“I’m sure Deputy Aiden Brody is asking him that right now at the sheriff’s department.”
I nodded. I suspected that Deputy Aiden was, indeed, doing just that.
“I heard from the early morning crowd at the café that Reuben was kept overnight at the sheriff’s department,” Lois said.
“Who said that?” I asked.
“Just about everyone who came into the Sunbeam this morning. It was the talk of the village.”
I frowned. If it was the talk of the Englisch side of the village, then it most certainly was the talk on the Amish side too. Ruth Yoder must know about it. She’d left a message for me on the shed phone I shared with the Raber sheep farm, saying she’d organized a meeting of the quilting circle at my home that evening. I didn’t hear the message myself. The phone was at the Raber farm, but Raellen sent one of her older children over to tell me. I guessed that Ruth would have a lot to say at the meeting about the current situation.
“Well.” Lois tapped her chin. “Snooping can’t hurt. It’s clear he’s not going to say anything interesting when I’m standing there. You’re right—I can be intimidating at times.”
“You really can be.”
“And it will give me some time to gather information for my books.”
“Exactly.”
She nodded. “All right. You’ve convinced me. I’ll be outside.” She walked out the greenhouse door, and I gave a sigh of relief.
When I turned back to the interior of the greenhouse to speak to Tucker, he was gone.