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  Dead Set

  Amish Cozy Mystery

  By

  Vannetta Chapman

  Book 3 in the Agatha’s Amish B&B Series

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  DEAD SET

  Dedicated to Beth Scott

  Glossary

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  Also by Vannetta Chapman

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  Further Reading: Fading Into the Night

  Also By Vannetta Chapman

  DEAD SET

  Copyright © 2021 by Vannetta Chapman. This title is also available as an e-book and print book. Visit www.vannettachapman.com.

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  VannettaChapman (at) gmail (dot) com

  Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by the author, nor does the author vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: Seedlingsonline

  Interior design: Teresa Lynn

  Printed in the United States of America. First printing, 2021

  ASIN: B09D8MLMMF

  Dedicated to Beth Scott

  The entire law is summed up in a single command:

  “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

  Galatians 5:14

  Happiness resides not in possessions, and not in gold,

  Happiness dwells in the soul.

  Democritus

  Glossary

  Bruder—brother

  Dat—father

  Danki—thank you

  Englischer—non-Amish person

  Gem gschehne—you’re welcome

  Gotte—God

  Grandkinner—grandchildren

  Gudemariye—good morning

  Gut—good

  Kapp—prayer covering

  Mamm—mom

  Nein—no

  Ordnung—unwritten rules of the community

  Wunderbaar—wonderful

  Ya—yes

  Youngie—young adult or teenager

  Chapter One

  “Is my kapp straight?”

  “It’s pinned to your head. Probably wouldn’t move if we had a tornado pass through.”

  “What about my dress?”

  “What about it?” Gina tsked as she straightened Agatha’s white apron over her forest green dress. “You look nice, but I really think your bishop should allow blue jeans for these occasions.”

  “Nope. When I’m wearing blue jeans, we’re usually being chased by a murderer.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about that today.” Gina stood back, cocked her head to the side, then glanced out the window. “They’re here. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  At fifty-seven years old, Agatha Lapp was neither thin nor heavy, short nor tall. She’d landed in the middle, and she thought it was a good place to be. Her hair had grayed considerably since she’d moved to Texas three years earlier, but that didn’t bother her as much as she thought it might.

  She liked living in Texas. She liked everything about her B&B. She’d added two additional cabins to the three that had already been on the property. All of the cabins were down near the river—the Guadalupe River which ran along the east side of her property. The main house was on the west side, with gardens and a brick path leading from one to the other. On the south side was the barn, pasture for her horse, and vegetable garden. The main house and grounds needed a little updating. Those areas would be the focus of the remodel project.

  Agatha walked out of her private quarters, through the kitchen, which still looked like it had always looked, and into the sitting room. Was she really going to do this? It seemed as if she was. The furniture had been carted off by Joey Troyer, who helped at the B&B three days a week. Before leaving on his vacation, he’d stored everything neatly in the barn, next to Doc’s stall. The floors in the main part of the house had been covered with paint tarps, and the few pictures she decorated with had been taken off the walls.

  She was ready to officially begin the renovation.

  Peeking out the front door she saw her neighbor Tony talking to Tamara Bishop from Channel 4 news. She hoped Tamara wasn’t asking Tony about the two murders they’d helped solve. Agatha had run to Tony’s place after finding Russell Dixon dead behind one of her cabins. That had been followed the next year by the murder of Nathan King on the other side of the river. Both of those were stories for another day. Today she was going to focus on the positive.

  Speaking of the positive, she hoped they could get this interview done with quickly and let the workers begin the renovation. Tamara Bishop was now leaning closer to Tony. In Agatha’s opinion, Tamara didn’t look old enough to be a newscaster, but then what did she know of such things? She was Plain. She didn’t even own a television.

  Behind the Channel 4 people was a group of workers from Dewald Renovations. They seemed mildly amused by the attention the job site was receiving, leaning against trucks and vans. She was surprised at the number of people it took to do a small renovation job, but then they had promised to finish in three weeks—two weeks if at all possible. The head of the company, Derrick Dewald, was also waiting. Derrick was in his 50s, built like a bull, and wore tiny spectacles whenever he needed to read. He’d explained that he liked to be present when a job started to make sure his crews understood what they were supposed to do and how they were supposed to do it.

  Tony glanced toward the screen door, noticed Agatha, and smiled. Antonio Vargas was a bright spot in Agatha’s life.

  Tony’s black hair was tinged with gray, but his build remained trim. He had a ready smile. His brown eyes sparkled and his brown skin had deepened in color from his long hours on the river that skirted both of their properties. He’d become a fishing guide the year before. Agatha’s guests adored him.

  He was a retired detective, nearly ten years older, her next-door neighbor, and her friend. He was actually more than her friend. She was self-aware enough to admit that. Agatha had been a widow for nearly twenty years. Tony’s wife had passed from this life to the next the year she’d moved into the B&B which was only two years earlier. It seemed longer. What they’d been through together made it seem as if they’d always been friends—more than friends. She wasn’t sure what she thought of the way Tony looked at her sometimes, the way his gaze made her heartbeat pick up a notch, the way her emotions soared when he kissed her.

  She sh
ook away those thoughts, determined to focus on the task at hand. Pushing through the screen door, she offered a bright “Gudemariye.” The reporter looked confused, but Tony smiled.

  “Morning, Agatha.”

  “Tony.”

  “Ms. Bishop was just telling me that since Channel 4 News purchased the local newspaper your story will appear in both. You’re going to be on television as well as included in the next newspaper issue—a feature story. Front page stuff.”

  Agatha almost rolled her eyes. She didn’t care if she was on the first page or the last page or any page in between. She had only agreed to do the remodel because her bishop thought it would be good publicity for the other Amish businesses.

  “You’re not breaking our Ordnung, Agatha,” Bishop Schrock had explained. “Those rules of no pictures apply to pride...glamour shots, that sort of thing. To lift up your other Amish neighbors, to show the local community how we’re trying to be a part of all that is here in Hunt County...that’s a good and selfless thing to do.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Agatha said to Tamara.

  Agatha didn’t know what she expected a reporter to look like, but Tamara wasn’t it. She wore jeans, boots, and a western shirt. Her blonde hair fell straight and was pulled over her left shoulder. Agatha wondered if she was even twenty-two. Had she gone to college? Maybe newscasters didn’t need a degree.

  Tamara’s blue eyes studied Agatha with surprising frankness. “Thank you for allowing us to do this piece. I understand that Amish in general shun the spotlight.”

  “Oh, ya. That’s true, for sure and certain.”

  Agatha noticed Gina shaking her head and making slashing motions across her throat. Gina Phillips was her closest Englisch friend other than Tony. She was fifty-one and gray haired, with the athletic build of a long-distance runner, though any talk of running always caused her to shake her head and mumble as she walked away. Gina helped Agatha run the B&B, and she was always quick to point out when Agatha was putting on the thick Amish accent good and strong.

  “This is Cooper Knox.” Tamara nodded toward a tall, lanky young man with a scraggly beard and long hair. He held a large camera and boom mike. “Let’s take a look and see where the best place to set up might be.”

  They decided on the living room.

  Agatha was pleased with the way the morning summer sun shone through the large plate-glass windows. The room had good bones, as she’d heard the old-timers say. The entire house did. When her brother Samuel purchased it, he’d done little to update the place. Samuel wasn’t what you’d call handy. He’d been more of a dreamer, and not a day went by that Agatha didn’t miss him and his wife Deborah.

  Agatha had taken over running the B&B two years earlier. She’d added the two cabins and solar panels and updated the garden areas. It was past time to renovate the house.

  “While Cooper sets up, is there somewhere we can sit so I get some background material?”

  “Of course.” Agatha led her into the kitchen.

  Gina had made raspberry scones and brewed fresh coffee. She bustled about putting everything on plates as Agatha and Tamara sat at the table. Tony stood in the doorway, motioning outside, then sending her a questioning look. She shook her head quickly, then said, “Join us, Tony. You’re better at these things than I am.”

  “I doubt I’ll be much help. It’s been some time since I’ve been interviewed by Channel 4 News...”

  “You were interviewed a number of times when you were a detective for the Hunt Police Department.” Tamara consulted her notepad, then started reciting dates.

  Tony held up a hand to stop her. “That was when I was on the job. I’m retired now. No one cares to interview a fishing guide.”

  Tamara looked about to argue with him, but instead she accepted the hot coffee, took an appreciative sip, and one bite of the scone. “Delicious,” she said, earning a satisfied look from Gina that turned into a frown when Tamara pushed the unfinished scone away and pulled out her phone.

  “Do you mind if I record your answers?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Great!” She tapped something on the phone, and pushed it to the middle of the table. Consulting her pad, she started with a simple question. “You’ve been in Texas two years now. What do you think about the area?”

  Tony had warned Agatha that she should expect questions about her brother, his death, and the two murders they had helped to solve. She’d braced herself for that, but now she relaxed. It was easy to talk about her new life in Texas.

  “I love it, which is why I’m renovating the B&B.”

  “So you plan to stay in the area?”

  “I do.”

  “Even though you’ve been involved in three separate murders?”

  And there it was. That hadn’t taken long. Tony slipped her an I told you so look.

  “Nein. Only two.” As if that sounded any better.

  “Three if you count the death of your brother Samuel and his wife, Deborah. Or perhaps that would make it four since they both died.”

  “That was an accident.”

  Gina was banging pots onto the stove, apparently unhappy with the direction the interview was going. She’d warned Agatha against doing it. She’d said that all news reporters were vultures.

  “An accident,” Agatha repeated firmly.

  When Tamara tapped her pen against her pad of paper, as if waiting for a better explanation, Tony stepped in. “You can check with Lieutenant Bannister. The deaths of Samuel and Deborah were determined to be an accident. No criminal charges were brought.”

  “And is it true that you refused to file a civil suit?”

  Tamara had apparently done her homework.

  “It’s true.”

  “And your involvement in the murder of Russell Dixon?”

  “I didn’t mean to be involved, it’s only that it happened here on the property so...”

  “Well, as they say...no such thing as bad publicity.”

  Agatha had no idea how to respond to that, so she remained silent and waited for the next question.

  “What about the murder of Nathan King?”

  “That one happened across the river,” Gina clarified, banging a cabinet door shut. “How about you ask her questions about the B&B?”

  Tamara arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, but nodded slightly.

  “Tell me about the renovations.”

  Finally! Agatha discussed the plans she’d gone over with her contractor. They’d be replacing flooring, adding skylights, even removing walls. “Our goal is to keep things plain and simple...”

  That earned a palm to the forehead from Gina.

  “...but also updated and inviting.”

  “Wonderful.” Tamara picked up her phone, tapped a couple of keys, presumably to stop the recording, and stood. Since she wasn’t going to pull anything out of Agatha about the murders, she was apparently ready to get on with her assignment. “Let’s see if Cooper is ready for us.”

  Tamara’s boss had explained to Agatha over the phone what they wanted to do: take a few pictures to put in their online edition and upload video of Agatha in a hard hat, knocking the first hole in the interior wall that they’d decided to demolish.

  The hard hat Derrick handed her was yellow, plastic, and too large for her head. She passed on it as well as the safety vest. Did they think she was going to work all day? Derrick also attempted to give her a sledgehammer, but she could barely lift it off the floor. Instead, she accepted the large rubber hammer that Tony had found in his garage. It looked more like a mallet really, something she might play croquet with. Tony spoke with Cooper for a moment—something about lighting and angles and drywall. Finally, he walked over to a midpoint in the wall and tapped a spot shoulder high. “Right here, Agatha. Just let her rip.”

  Let her rip?

  What did that even mean?

  “Hit it with all you’ve got,” Gina whispered, then moved to the far side of the room.

  Once Agatha w
as in place, Tamara stood to the side and Cooper picked up his large video camera, hoisting it to his shoulder.

  “We’re here this morning with Agatha Lapp, owner of Agatha’s Amish B&B. Agatha is commencing a renovation project, and she’s been gracious enough to allow us to record the first step of the demolition work.”

  Tamara turned toward Agatha and smiled brightly. Agatha glanced at Tony and Gina, who both nodded their heads in encouragement. They reminded her of bobbleheads. She somehow reined in the laughter that threatened to spill, picked up the hammer, and smashed it into the wall. A few chunks of plaster fell to the ground as a bit of dust rose.

  “That was rather fun,” she admitted to Tamara.

  The newscaster motioned for her to give it another shot, and she did. She gave the drywall several more smacks. She focused completely on raising the rubber hammer and hitting the exact spot on the wall with “all she had.” Only after she’d lowered the hammer and turned to her friends did she notice their reactions. Gina’s eyes were wide and her right hand covered her mouth. Tony’s brow was furrowed in concern. Cooper had stepped closer with his video equipment. The red dot told her he was still filming. But what was he filming?

  She looked down at her dress, noticing she’d covered herself with drywall.

  Then she heard Tamara say, “Can we get a close up of that?”

  A close up of what?

  She turned in the direction that Cooper was moving, peered into the hole, and saw sunlight splash off something shiny. Tony was at her side, cautioning, “Don’t touch it, Agatha.”

  Tamara was blathering on about how viewers never knew what they’d see on Channel 4 News.

  Gina was at her side, peering in at the thing, and then Tony was back, wearing a pair of disposable gloves that he’d fetched from her cleaning supplies. He reached into the hole and retrieved a bag that had been stapled to a piece of lumber which supported the drywall. He pulled it out and they all crowded in, staring at the western belt buckle that sparkled with what looked to Agatha like diamonds.

  Chapter Two