A Perfect Square Page 15

  DEBORAH WAS HELPING ESTHER in Tobias’ grossdaddi’s house on Monday morning. Shane had finally allowed them to remove the crime scene tape and begin cleaning it.

  “This woodwork is beautiful.” Deborah ran her hand over a cabinet face.

  “Tobias told me that their grossdaddi made all the cabinetry himself.”

  “It’s still in very gut condition.”

  They had already wiped down all the cabinetry and placed the new shelf paper in the drawers and on the lower shelves. “Do you want it on the upper shelves as well?”

  “I know no one can see them, but I like the idea of it being there. Is that silly?”

  “Not at all, and you bought plenty. Might as well use it.”

  “Exactly, plus it’s easier to clean a shelf that has been lined.” Esther pulled a table chair over to the kitchen counters and stood on it. The extra two feet allowed her to reach the top shelf, given her height. “If you’ll cut the lengths, I’ll lay them down.”

  “Fair enough. We should be done in here before Leah and Joshua wake from their naps.”

  “I can’t believe they still rest in the mornings.”

  “Well, you may not be so lucky with your next boppli. The twins were not sleepers. I think they took naps until they were six months old. After that, I was lucky to have the evening hours to myself.”

  “You’re the second person to mention another baby to me in the last week.” Esther accepted the long strip of blue paper and stretched to place it on the top shelf. “How do I know I’ll have more babies though? Maybe after all this time I won’t be able to.”

  “Not likely that your body has forgotten how.”

  “I suppose. It seems so odd though. It’s been me and Leah for so long now that I don’t know what to think about the idea. When Tobias mentioned it the other day, I felt all disoriented, but at the same time excited.” Esther put her hands on her hips and studied the cabinets. “Looks gut.”

  Climbing down, she smiled at Deborah. “I suppose it will all work out.”

  “Of course it will. It’s like I tell Mary. God will bring babies when he’s ready for them and not before.” Deborah pulled Esther into a hug.

  “Danki. You’re a gut friend. How about we go and see what needs to be done to the sitting room?”

  They walked into the room, walked in front of the large window that looked out over the yard and the dirt road leading off the property, when they both saw it, or rather, them.

  Esther drew in a sharp breath and pulled herself up straighter.

  “What do you suppose it’s about?” Deborah whispered.

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good if there’re three cars of them.”

  They walked outside and reached the patrol cars the same time as Tobias, who had come in from the fields. Taylor, Gavin, Black — they were all there, and more.

  “Tobias, Esther, Deborah.” Taylor was the one to step forward and hand a folded sheet of paper to Tobias. “This gives us the right to search the premises again. It’s been approved by Judge Stearns.”

  “I don’t understand.” Tobias quickly scanned the document. “What is it exactly that you’re looking for?”

  Shane had been speaking to Gavin and several other officers who now fanned out — some moving toward the pond, others going in the direction of the barns.

  “What is this about?” Esther asked.

  Taylor cleared his throat. “Officer Black is going to need to ask you some questions, Tobias. You have a right to have an attorney present.”

  “I don’t have an attorney. I didn’t know that I needed one.”

  Shane stepped forward. “Are you waiving your right to legal counsel?”

  Tobias stared down at the paper again, began reading from the top.

  “Why are you here, Shane?” Deborah slipped her arm around Esther. The way she had begun shaking, there was a possibility this new blow might be too much. Certainly there was a limited amount of shock a body could take.

  Instead of answering, Shane showed them an eight-by-ten photo he was holding. It was a picture of a teenage Englisch girl. She had long auburn hair, a smattering of freckles across the tops of her cheeks, and the sweet smile she sported revealed a mouth full of braces.

  “Do you know her? Have any of you seen her?”

  “No,” Deborah said.

  Esther shook her head, her gaze flying to Tobias.

  “I have never seen this girl. Now why are your men on my land?”

  “Because she’s missing, Tobias. She’s been missing for two weeks, and we have reason to believe that Reuben had something to do with it.”

  Tobias’ face flushed blood red. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do mean it, and we will search this property.”

  “To find what?”

  “To look for her body, man. What do you think?” Shane stepped closer then, and his next words pulled the breath out of Deborah’s lungs. “And if we find her, it’s going to be harder for you to explain away. One girl you might not have noticed. One girl you might have an alibi for. But two? That’s not very likely. Two you’d have a harder time explaining. Two, he’d probably need an accomplice, someone who helped or knew what was going on or at least covered for him.”

  “I am a peaceful man.” Tobias was within an inch of Shane’s face now. “But if you say one more word to me, if you make one more false accusation, I will take my fist, and I will put it — “

  “Tobias!” Esther’s scream split the morning. She pulled herself away, out of Deborah’s grasp, and threw herself into Tobias’ arms. “Come with me. Come inside. Let Shane’s men look for what they must. Then they’ll go. They will find nothing, and then they will go.”

  She linked her hand with his and pulled him toward the house, and though his face had turned a deep red, he went.

  Deborah followed them as Shane turned back toward the pond.

  Why would they think Tobias or Reuben had anything to do with this missing girl?

  How could they think such a thing? Certainly Tobias had nothing to do with the first one, and now … now there was a second? It seemed once doubt had been cast on a person’s character, then it was too easy to make the next connection.

  She thought of the conversation that Esther had suffered through with Mrs. Drisban in the General Store. The one where the woman had given her a Christian pamphlet — as if Amish folk weren’t Christians. On telling her about it, Esther’s cheeks had paled, and she’d pulled the pamphlet out of her bag like it was a hideous thing.

  Deborah had been curious though.

  Drisban and Shane had known Reuben, Esther, and Tobias all their lives. How could they doubt them so? Was it that they believed they’d changed? Or was it that they believed all men were capable of such evil?

  It wasn’t like Shane Black to jump to conclusions without some evidence — the blood he had found in the house didn’t prove anything in Deborah’s opinion. Yes, there were questions. Yes, Reuben should answer them if he could, but still he was not guilty. What else had Shane found? Tobias said they’d searched the woods with dogs before the arraignment. Why?

  Something else was at work here, and Deborah was ready to find out what it was.

  Since the shop was closed on Mondays, Callie used the day to place stock orders, catch up on paperwork, and run errands. Today’s errands were going to take her by the Grossdaddi House on the edge of town. First, though, she stopped at The Kaffi Shop.

  “I thought Amish people kept their parents at home with them.”

  “Most do,” Margie agreed, handing Callie a to-go cup of coffee with a shot of espresso, all topped off with whipped cream. Margie’s bright red hair was cut in a short ‘do that looked great, and Callie wondered for a minute about her decision to grow her own hair out. “I think with Mr. Bontrager the problems were twofold. The son sold his farm and bought a place here in town above the CPA office where he works.”

  “How does an Amish person work in a CPA office. I mean
— “ Callie stopped, not sure how to continue.

  “I know what you mean. It’s the schooling thing, but many times they do have a talent for professions that traditionally require more education. For instance, the younger Bontrager — I don’t remember his name now — was always very good with numbers. He had a real gift. No doubt he would have gone to one of the big schools with a scholarship if he’d been an Englischer.”

  “But because he’s Amish he didn’t.”

  “Right. He tried a few different jobs and finally answered an ad at the CPA office, just as an errand boy at first. He was older even then — too old to be an errand boy.” Margie swiped a dish towel across the already clean counter.

  “So what happened?” Callie sipped her coffee and reached into her to-go bag to pinch off a corner of her cranberry muffin.

  “Didn’t take long for the owner to realize his gift for numbers. They kept promoting him, until now he handles almost as much work as the CPA.”

  “But he’s not a CPA.”

  “No. He makes a good living though, and he seems satisfied with that. Married late and they had no children. But living in town, there wasn’t really a good place for his father to live once he couldn’t stay alone. The Grossdaddi House seemed like the best place when you add in the complication of Mr. Bontrager’s dementia.”

  “How do you know so much about everyone?” Callie smiled and folded her to-go sack shut. “It’s not as if you’re a gossip. Yet, you seem to know everyone’s history.”

  “It’s a small town, Callie. Live here long enough, and you’ll know as much as I do.” Margie walked around the counter and squatted down, gave Max a good rub behind the ears. Then she stood and pushed a box of cookies into Callie’s hands. “These are oatmeal raisin. The old folks like them. Mind taking them out there for me?”

  “Not at all.”

  “And next time you come by, you can tell me what this is all about.”

  “I’d love to. In fact, I might have some more questions for you. Want to grab a bite to eat next Monday evening?”

  “It’s a date. Hubby has a late meeting, so I was on my own anyway.”

  Callie felt more optimistic as she climbed into her car than she had in the past week. Finally, it seemed, things were starting to come together.

  Chapter 21

  CALLIE MIGHT HAVE DRIVEN past the Grossdaddi House if she hadn’t received instructions from Margie — single story, farmlike, with a barn, on the southwest edge of town, just past the local medical clinic.

  It did not look like the retirement villages in Texas. For one thing, there was the barn, which apparently had animals in it. As Callie pulled her car into the parking lot beside the house, she saw an older gentleman lead a horse out of its stall, tether it to a fence, and begin to brush it.

  Interesting.

  Secondly, there was a large garden area between the barn and the house. There wasn’t much growing in it now, except for fall flowers, and yet there were still three older women turning over the sod with a hoe and what could have been a nurse sitting next to someone on a bench.

  Callie clipped Max’s leash to him, then picked up the box of cookies. Before they started toward the building, she cautioned Max to behave. “Where there’s a barn, there are bound to be barn cats.”

  Max looked at her with what she was sure was hope in his eyes. “Your idea of play and their idea of play are different, Maxie. Remember what happened to the last kitten you found? You treed it, and I had to climb up in the branches to free it. I’m not going to let you forget that little incident.”

  Callie stopped at the front door, checked to be sure there was no sign prohibiting pets, then walked inside.

  Rather than having a reception area with a bell to ring, she stepped into a front hall like you would find in most homes. There was, however, a small old woman in a prayer kapp, sitting in the middle of a bench, knitting.

  “Hello,” Callie said. “I was hoping to visit someone I think is living here.”

  The woman looked over the top of her half-glasses, but didn’t pause in her knitting. Her hands were moving awfully fast. Callie watched in awe. Max whined lightly as the ball of green yarn took a spin with each flick of her wrists.

  “My name is Erin Troyer.” She knitted even as she spoke. “I had a dog once. Most people think Amish don’t have dogs, but that isn’t true. We have them, and we love them, but we treat them like animals rather than children.”

  Max lowered himself to the floor, his head now on his front paws.

  “I see that one thinks he’s part human.”

  “I suppose he does. Max stays with me at the quilt shop. He’s a big help, since I live there alone.”

  Erin paused for a fraction of a second to look Callie up and down, then knitted even faster, as if she needed to make up for her lost time. “You must be talking about Daisy’s shop.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’d heard someone took it over. Daisy was as fine an Englisch woman as I ever met. Always real kind and helpful.”

  “Thank you.” Callie’s throat tightened at the mention of her aunt. As usual, she found herself wishing she’d known Daisy better. This time though, that feeling was mitigated by a sense of pride. She’d heard similar sentiments so many times since moving to Shipshe from such a variety of people, that now it felt like brushing up against a familiar quilt.

  There was a comfort to it.

  “I sit here mornings, helping folks who come in. Afternoons, one of the younger gals from the local schools takes over. Now who would you like to visit? I know most of our regulars, and I’ve never seen you before.”

  “No, ma’am. I want to see Ira Bontrager. I think he lives here.”

  The woman continued knitting, though she slowed gradually until she reached the end of the row she was working on. When she did, she pushed the needles into the ball of yarn and scooted over on the bench. Callie recognized it as an invitation and sat down.

  Max settled himself between them on the floor.

  “Yes, Ira lives here, has since the sickness worsened. Today he’s having a good day. We’re all a little protective of him though. Do you mind my asking why a young girl from Texas would stop by to see an old Amish man?”

  Callie was a bit taken aback that the old lady knew so much about her. Was she a receptionist or a guard? Then Erin looked her full in the face and waited, the folds around her blue eyes wrinkled with age but the gaze not wavering. When she did, Callie realized that this wasn’t a nursing home resident doing a parttime job.

  This was one friend looking out for another.

  “Ira stopped by my shop the other morning — nearly scared me to death appearing before I’d even had my morning coffee, insisting that I listen to him.”

  “That would have been on Tuesday when the nurses discovered he was gone. There was quite a ruckus.”

  “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” Callie hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “He stayed a while, told me a story. I fixed him some tea and called Andrew Gavin to help me find his kin. Andrew found his son.”

  “So why are you here today?” Erin’s voice was softening, and Callie knew she was almost in. Of course, she realized she didn’t need Erin’s permission to walk down the hall and find Ira. She could barrel her way past the ninety-pound lady, but something told her it would be a good thing to have Erin on her side.

  “Saturday I received a letter from Ira. He asked for my help with something.”

  Erin waited, nodded, but didn’t interrupt.

  “So Max and I, we thought we would come and visit.”

  Reaching out, Erin patted her hand. Though Erin’s hand was mostly bones and blue veins, it was incredibly soft on top of Callie’s, reminding her of the few times she’d held Melinda’s baby.

  Those times had scared her senseless, as she had no experience with infants. This was a bit frightening too. She suddenly realized how fragile the person sitting next to her was — the fragileness of the line between life a
nd death.

  “As I mentioned, today’s better than most for Ira. He’s in the barn. I’d take you to him, but I’m not supposed to leave my post unless someone else is here. You can’t access the barn or garden areas from the front parking area, since some of our residents tend to wander off. Instead follow this hall until you come to the first left. Then go on down that hall and it will lead you outside to where they’re working.”

  “Is it all right if I take Max through the house?”

  Erin was already knitting again, but she spared a glance to Max, who cocked his head as if waiting for her permission.

  “Smart one, that mutt is. Look at him waiting on my answer.” She leaned forward, put her eyes close to his, and Callie wondered how well she could see, wondered how she was able to knit the yarn at all. “You may go down the hall, but don’t frighten the residents. Go quietly.”

  Max stood and shook himself, but he didn’t make a squeak.

  “Thank you, Ms. Troyer. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

  “That would be gut. Ira doesn’t get many visitors.”

  Callie started to leave when she remembered she was still carrying the box of cookies. She took them back and set them on the bench beside Erin Troyer, who made Callie promise she’d thank Margie for the residents. Then Callie made her way to the barn, one suspicion confirmed: Ira didn’t have many visitors, so he must be lonely.

  If he was lonely, perhaps he’d made up the story about a lost daughter. There was something in the way Erin had hesitated when Callie had said Ira wanted her help with something — in fact she hadn’t seemed surprised and she hadn’t questioned her about it.

  Was that odd?

  Or was it the Amish way of staying out of other folk’s business?

  Or had Erin heard the same stories?

  Before Callie could puzzle it out, she reached the barn. Both doors were open, though the day was cloudy and threatening rain. The man she’d seen brushing the horse still stood outside. Now he was leading the horse slowly around the enclosure.

  She walked into the barn, and Max yanked on his leash.

  “Heel, Max.”