Dead Wrong Page 18
“Seriously?” Agatha motioned to the east. “I have guests to feed. Everyone who wasn’t involved with McNair will be wondering where breakfast is, and in case you have forgotten, I do run a Bed-and-Breakfast—”
“A haven of rest.”
“Indeed.” Agatha felt a lump in her throat, maybe for the first time that night. Her brother had died because of a random accident, but she would find a way to see that his dream came true. She wasn’t going to run back to Indiana just because a crazy neighbor killed one of her guests and tried to kill her. “I should go start cooking.”
“Then I insist on helping.”
“Seriously? Do you even know how to cook?”
“I can make a mean cup of coffee.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Six days later, Tony and Agatha sat across from Kiara at the corner table in Sammi’s. Same table, but the day felt very different to Tony—full of hope and possibility.
He stabbed his apple pie as if it had offended him. “I can’t believe you’re representing the Coopers.”
“Which reminds me, did they take the note I left for Tony? The note telling him Gina and I were going over to McNair’s?”
“They did. Apparently McNair told them to watch you closely and intervene when necessary.”
Agatha squirreled her nose, as if she’d smelled something distasteful.
“They need a good lawyer,” Kiara said, pointing a finger at Tony. “And I have it on record that you once said I’m a good one.”
“I’m glad you are.” Agatha shrugged when Tony shot her a look of surprise. “I’d like to see Jasmine and Xavier get a second chance.”
“Mostly they’re guilty of being stupid and gullible. Even when they replaced your breakfast with the one that McNair gave them, they thought it was going to give him food poisoning and take him out of the picture. They didn’t know they were killing him.”
“Or so they told you.” Tony finished the pie and pushed away the plate.
“Yours is better,” he assured Agatha, who rolled her eyes and motioned for Kiara to continue.
“Also, they were smart enough to keep a backup of all the emails McNair sent them.”
“Why would he risk laying out his plan in an email?”
“As you’ve pointed out more than once, he’s arrogant. He couldn’t imagine anyone turning on him.”
“And if they did, he’d just kill them.”
“Exactly.” Kiara sipped her coffee and ate a tiny piece of her peach cobbler. “McNair is a street thug from way back. He’s actually changed his name more than once and reinvented himself. It was McNair who got Dixon started on his Ponzi scheme. McNair had run something similar in New Jersey and Georgia. Both times he slipped through the net authorities set for him, moved, and changed his name.”
“People like that never learn. They move and do the same thing all over again.” Tony had seen a lot of crime in his years on the force. Ponzi schemes were among the worst. They took away a person’s pride as well as their future resources.
“Along the way he had more and more money from previous victims, and his scams grew in scale and audacity.”
Agatha cocked her head to the side. “Did he really have investors committed for half the money of the resort?”
“He did, and from what I can tell those investors are on the up and up. McNair isn’t the first person to want to put up a resort in the Texas Hill Country.”
“The Hill Country is special because it’s remote, with fewer people and less traffic. We don’t want a resort.” Tony crossed his arms in defiance.
“Tell that to the people in Fredericksburg. The one there is set to open next year.” Kiara accepted a refill on her coffee from the waitress, added cream but no sugar, and tapped the spoon against the mug. Smiling at Agatha, she said, “Better watch out. You’re getting more competition for your Bed-and-Breakfast every day.”
Agatha waved that thought away. “Amish folk like this area. It’s a gut place to relax. A gut place to reconnect with nature, and they can do that at my Bed-and-Breakfast. A resort isn’t exactly a plain and simple vacation.”
“Her customer base is solid,” Tony agreed. “That’s why she’s adding on to the B&B.”
“Really?”
“Just a few more cabins. My family in Indiana sent me more money they wanted to invest. That, combined with what I’ve earned so far, gives me the funds to do some things I thought I wouldn’t be able to for a few years.”
“You can finish the shuffle board courts,” Tony said.
“And add some outdoor grills, a playground for the youngies—tubes and kayaks, too.”
Kiara cocked her head, smiled at them both, and nodded her approval. “Sounds like you have a busy season ahead of you.”
“It’s all gut. Plus I have a new fishing guide for my guests.” Agatha bumped shoulders with Tony.
“And I can walk to work.” Tony laughed. It felt good to be involved in life again, and late summer was a perfect time to be a fishing guide. Better yet, fall was around the corner—temperatures would be pleasant, colors would be changing, and he had no doubt the fish would be biting. “It’s a win-win for everyone.”
“Well, I’m happy for you both.” Kiara drained her coffee and stood. Dropping money on the table, she said, “I’ve got this. After all, you sent me two new clients.”
“All right, but come by for dinner some time. You said you would.”
“And I keep my promises.” Kiara shook hands with Tony then turned toward Agatha. “You have my number if you need me.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. I’m out of the murder mystery business.”
Tony knew she meant it. Agatha was a paradox to him. She enjoyed things simple and slow, but she’d certainly risen to the occasion when matters called for it. He thought of that moment he’d jumped out of the van, of all the things he’d meant to say to her, of how it seemed Agatha Lapp had woken him from a long sleep.
But as they walked toward his vehicle, he realized he had plenty of time to share those things, and besides—the smile from Agatha told him she already knew.
“There are some things I still don’t understand,” she admitted.
“Not sure I can answer your questions, but throw them at me. I did meet with Bannister yesterday, and he was more forthcoming than he has been in the past.”
“That commendation from the mayor made him happy—at least he looked pleased on the front of the Hunt County News.”
“The reporter did a good job, and maybe Bannister is seeing that I’m not a threat to him.” Tony crossed his arms and leaned his back side against the truck. Agatha did the same. “Honestly, it’s not only Bannister who changed. I’ve finally realized that he may not do the job the way I did it, but he’s still a good cop and a good detective.”
He waited and let Agatha gather her thoughts. He’d learned a lot about Agatha Lapp in the last two weeks, since she’d fled up his porch steps crying for help. She was kind and outgoing, and she didn’t start talking until she had her thoughts lined up.
“I keep seeing Dixon’s body and his room. I don’t understand how it happened. Why did he toss his own clothes? Why did he go out the back door? Did he cry out for help?”
“I think you’re asking three different things. The first is how.”
“Ya, I suppose so.”
“We know McNair had one of his goons—they’re still arguing about who did it—cross the property line near your barn.”
“The boot print.”
“Yup. McNair had warned Dixon that he had a backup, that he’d take care of things without his help if he had to. He hinted quite strongly that two people staying at your place would take over the operation.”
“Dixon thought it was the Cox brothers.”
“McNair wanted him to think that. He had one of his goons sneak into Dixon’s cabin while he was confronting the Cox brothers.”
“That was a diversion.”
“Completely. W
hile he was out of the room, either Tommy or Trent Riggs snuck in, found the EpiPen, and took it. They also snagged his phone and computer.”
“Wouldn’t Dixon have noticed that his clothing was a mess?”
“I doubt it was at that point...this is all conjecture, mind you. We may never know the exact details.”
“Go on.”
“McNair then had Xavier switch out the breakfast after you left it on the porch.”
“They were supposed to be hiking.”
“Right. Instead they drove down the road, parked, and walked back.”
“Then they ran back upstairs and pretended to be filling their hydration packs.”
“No doubt. Once the breakfast was swapped, all they had to do was hope Dixon would take the bait.”
“And McNair made this decision because Dixon backed out of the plan...the plan to sabotage my place?”
“We know that for certain. When the police arrived at the cabin—”
“The place McNair was going to kill us.”
“Right. They found Dixon’s laptop and phone. It’s one of the ways Bannister was able to put the events together.” He nudged her shoulder. “And don’t go blabbing this to the paper. It stays between you and me.”
“Oh, ya. I’ve turned down all interview requests.” The clip-clop of a buggy horse drew their attention across the road. Agatha waved at one of her church members, but she didn’t seem in any hurry to go.
“After Dixon ate the muffin, what happened then?”
Some victims needed to know the details in order to move on. He hoped what he told Agatha would help her, not cause more nightmares. “Consuming the peanut-laced muffin would have very quickly triggered Dixon’s allergic reaction. He would have experienced trouble breathing, at which point he catapulted out of bed, dragging the covers with him—“
“Knocking over the coffee mug.”
“He spent precious seconds searching for his EpiPen—”
“Which had already been stolen.”
“...and his phone.”
“But why did he go out the back door?”
“He panicked. If he’d gone out the front door, it’s still doubtful anyone could have helped him.”
“You’re certain?” Now she raised her eyes to his, and he understood what this was about. He reached out and tucked a stray hair into her kapp.
“You couldn’t have saved him, Agatha. Even if he’d come out on the front porch.”
She nodded, and Tony thought he saw tears in her eyes—tears for a man who was trying to sabotage her business and ruin her life.
“Next he would have experienced a sudden drop in blood pressure, an increased heart rate, and unconsciousness.”
“That’s why he looked as if he’d been running, as if he was reaching out for help.”
“Yes.” There was no use sugarcoating this for her.
Agatha closed her eyes a moment. He suspected she was saying a prayer for Russell Dixon and whatever family he might have had.
When she opened her eyes, she reached up and patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Tony.” Then she turned, walked around the truck, and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Ready to go home?” he asked.
“Ya. I am.”
Chapter Thirty-six
IT WAS THE FIRST MONDAY in September when Agatha and Gina finished the pocket garden as the sun kissed the horizon. A soft light splayed across the pavers, landscape plants, birdbath, and bench.
“This is nice.” Gina stood with her hands on her hips. “Your brother, he would have liked it.”
“You met Samuel?”
“Only once. He’d come to town for supplies for a chicken coop. This was when I was working at the hardware store. He seemed like a real nice guy.”
Agatha turned to look at the chicken coop, which was now overflowing with marigolds and monkey grass. Everything looked nice. It looked good. She would always remember Samuel and Deborah in her heart, but this was a nice way to use that memory to bless others. As they turned to go, Agatha put her hand on the bronze plate that rested waist high on a cedar pole Tony had cemented into the ground.
Samuel and Deborah’s haven of rest.
May God’s peace fill your soul.
She would always miss her brother, but it felt good and right that he would be remembered.
As for Agatha, she’d found her own haven of rest nestled along the Guadalupe River. As she and Gina walked back toward the main house, she saw a light go on in Tony’s kitchen. Soon he’d be over, and they’d enjoy a glass of tea on the porch as they watched night settle over the hills. It was a good life, and one she planned to enjoy.
The End
Author’s Note
This book is dedicated to my friend, Russell Dixon. He’s been asking me to “kill him off” for years. The character in this story in no way resembles the real guy. Thanks for the laughs, Russell!
I’d like to thank Beth Scott for the use of her cat Fonzi, and others from my Friday morning prayer group who will find their names sprinkled throughout this story. You all are always on my heart and mind. A special thanks to Gina. You very much inspired my character!
As is always the case, I owe a large debt to my pre-readers: Kristy and Janet. Teresa, you did a fabulous job on the editing. Jenny, I absolutely adore the cover you created. My family deserves an award for every single book I finish. You all are the best.
I’m grateful to Center Point, who acquired the large print rights for this book before it actually existed. I appreciate your confidence in me.
And a heartfelt shout-out to all my readers who asked for another cozy mystery. It has been too long, and I hope you enjoyed this story enough to ask me to write more.
And finally ...always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (Ephesians 5:20).
Blessings,
Vannetta
About the Author
Vannetta Chapman writes inspirational fiction full of grace. She is a PW and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels in a variety of genres, including Amish romances, Amish mysteries, romantic suspense, and dystopian. Vannetta is also an ACFW Carol Award winner for best mystery of the year (2012). She teaches college-level English and currently resides in the Texas Hill Country. For more information, visit her at www.VannettaChapman.com.
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Also by Vannetta Chapman
The Shipshewana Amish Mysteries
Falling to Pieces
A Perfect Square
Material Witness
The Amish Village Mysteries
Murder Simply Brewed
Murder Tightly Knit
Murder Freshly Baked
The Amish Bishop Mysteries
What the Bishop Saw
When the Bishop Needs an Alibi
Who the Bishop Knows
Find these and more at
https://vannettachapman.com/books/amish-mystery/
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Also by Vannetta Chapman
Agatha's Amish B&B
Dead Wrong
Cyber Division
Fading Into the Night
Midnight Strike (Coming Soon)
Defending America
Coyote's Revenge
Roswell's Secret
Jacobs Family Series
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