Murder Freshly Baked Read online

  “I’ll bag this up and take it to the Dumpster.”

  “Good deal. Then get out of those waders before you fall over. If you stay on my crew, we’re going to have to order something that fits you better.”

  Joshua had developed plenty of muscle and strength since coming to work for Preston’s department, but at five foot five, he was definitely the shortest member of the team.

  Preston was halfway to the office when Hannah popped out of the yarn shop, nearly bowling him over.

  “I’m so sorry. I was hurrying and wasn’t looking where my feet were pointed.”

  “Is there an emergency?”

  “Hopefully not. I was headed to check on Seth. He hasn’t had a disaster in at least two weeks. We’re overdue.”

  “I peeked inside A Simple Blend as I walked by. He was sitting at the table folding to-go menus.”

  “Sounds safe enough.” Hannah hesitated before she brushed her kapp strings behind her shoulders and stepped closer. “Could I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  Preston moved toward the building, grateful for the shade. He liked Hannah. She was a good kid, and Jesse, the young man she was marrying, was one of the best workers on the property. There was also a possibility the reason he liked Hannah and Jesse so much had more to do with their shared history, the unlikely web of murder they had been caught up in together not once but twice. Preston was grateful those days were behind them.

  “Do you know Ryan Duvall?”

  “Sure,” Preston answered cautiously. “I’ve known Ryan most of my life. It’s a small town.”

  “It seems that he’s taken a shine to Martha.”

  Preston crossed his arms and rested his back against the side of the building. “Ryan has a short attention span.”

  “Ya. So I’ve heard, and I hate to see Martha get hurt.”

  “Is she serious about him? I’m surprised she’d date outside of your faith.”

  “You know about rumspringa, right?”

  “Sure. I see the occasional teen with a car or sporting the newest smartphone.” An image of Joshua popped into his mind. The kid had purchased a dilapidated 1976 Ford short-bed truck. Faded paint, torn upholstery, and a broken air conditioner/heater unit did nothing to dampen the boy’s enthusiasm for the old Ford. “Are you saying Martha is indulging in her taste of freedom from the Ordnung? And that she’s doing so with Ryan?”

  Preston had lived in Middlebury all his life, except for the time he lived overseas on Uncle Sam’s nickel. He knew all about rumspringa, Ordnung, and the difficulties involved. In that respect little had changed since his days in high school.

  Hannah frowned and puckered her bottom lip. “Our rules allow Martha to experience things freely in the Englisch world, within reason. I’m not worried about her receiving criticism for dating an Englisch man, though she insists they’re not dating. Why a man as old as Ryan would be interested in a young girl like her—”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened.”

  “I’m more worried about Martha’s heart. She has little experience in these things.” As an afterthought she added, “She’s always been rather shy.”

  “If I see Ryan I’ll certainly suggest he move on if he’s not serious—and I doubt he’s serious.”

  “Thank you, Preston.”

  For a fleeting second Preston thought Hannah was going to stand on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek. Instead she reached out, squeezed his arm, and hurried on toward A Simple Blend, the coffee shop she managed for the Village.

  Preston checked his pocket to make sure the recovered bracelet was still there and then set off for Amber’s office.

  The day was taking more twists and turns than a country road, but that didn’t surprise him. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was to be patient and things would change. In this case, he was hoping they’d change back to calm and unremarkable.

  Four

  Preston walked into the restaurant and immediately relaxed. The familiar smells of hot coffee, fried chicken, and vegetable casseroles filled the room. He could close his eyes and envision each one, and he would have loved to stay and enjoy a big lunch. Instead he worked his way down the hall, resisted the sign proclaiming “Bakery—This Way,” and jogged up the stairs. The area opened into a nice-size waiting area, and beyond that were Amber’s office, a conference room, and Pam’s office. Elizabeth wasn’t at her desk. She tended to take her lunch after everyone else.

  Amber’s door was open, so Preston passed the secretary’s desk and tapped on the door frame.

  Amber was typing ninety to nothing on her computer. She held up one finger, finished what she was doing with a flourish of keys, and then glanced up. When she did, Preston was struck once again by what a kind person she was. The grin that spread across her face was genuine, and her hazel eyes practically danced. It seemed to Preston that in Amber, God had provided the sister he’d never had, and he was grateful for that. An image of the park bench he used to sleep on crossed his mind, but he brushed it away. Even in his darkest days, God had a plan, one that often made no sense to him. Fortunately that plan had included the woman in front of him.

  “I didn’t think my day could get any better, but now it has.” She came around the desk and enfolded him in a hug. The gesture of affection was so natural that Preston almost didn’t flinch.

  Amber grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the two chairs near the window, which overlooked the Village property.

  “Tell me everything you’ve been doing, and how is Zoey? We were out of town, so we didn’t see either of you at church last week.”

  “Zoey’s good.” Preston stopped there. If he started talking about Zoey, if he poured out his heart to Amber, he’d be an hour behind in his work. So instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out the bracelet.

  Her eyes widened as she reached for it. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Preston nodded. “Joshua was helping me clean out the drain at the top of the larger pond. Those diamonds winked at us through the muck and grime.”

  “Mrs. Stinson is going to be so thrilled to have it returned. Her father gave it to her for her eighteenth birthday.”

  Preston raised an eyebrow, and Amber laughed.

  “I know. I received a fifty-dollar savings bond for my eighteenth—”

  “My pop took me out for a steak dinner. I thought I was all grown up.”

  “As the daughter of a Texas oilman, Mrs. Stinson has lived a different life than you and I have. I suspect whether you’re rich, poor, or middle class, your memories of those formative years are precious. Think about it, Preston. She must have received this in 1944. What a different place the world was then.”

  Preston’s thoughts immediately went to World War II. His grandfather had served in the US Navy, and he’d grown up hearing stories of the Pacific battles. No doubt, his decision to join the military could be traced back through his family tree. With a start, he realized Amber was still talking about the bracelet and the elderly woman who had inadvertently dropped it into the pond.

  “I have a feeling it’s the memories attached to this that bring her joy, not the market value.” She held the bracelet in her hand and rubbed at the grime with one thumb.

  “I told Joshua pretty much the same thing. It’s a shame about the gunk and rust, though.”

  “Oh, I don’t think there will be any rust. No doubt it was fashioned from the highest-quality gold. We’ll send it to Carson’s Jewelers and have it cleaned up.”

  “I can do that for you.”

  “Would you?” Amber patted his hand, then turned it over and dropped the bracelet back into his palm. “Thank you, and I will contact Mrs. Stinson and let her know we’ll ship it to her home in Midland via Priority Mail and with insurance.”

  Preston stood to go, but Amber wasn’t finished with him yet, or maybe she had never planned to let him off the hook so easily.

  “Zoey is a sweet girl.”

 
; “Yes, she is, though she’s hardly a girl.”

  “Have you thought any more about her suggestion?”

  “I’m still thinking on it.” Preston stopped there. He wasn’t about to go into all the reasons Zoey’s idea wouldn’t work.

  “I want you to know that I spoke with the owners of the Village, and they are fully supportive, as am I.” Her curly brown hair bounced when she nodded. Preston had noticed that she was wearing it that way—curly—rather than taming it into straight submission. The style made her look younger and also more relaxed.

  She seemed to be waiting for him to agree. Instead he shrugged and remained silent.

  “You’re a stubborn man, Preston Johnstone.” She started to say something else, then stopped herself and apparently reversed directions. “Would you two like to come over for dinner sometime soon? When Zoey is free?”

  Preston stared out the window at the blossoming trees. Some days he could actually believe he’d been given another chance, and that this time things might turn out the way they should.

  “I’ll ask Zoey about her schedule and let you know, but I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

  “Excellent, and tell her she doesn’t have to bring a thing. Tate loves to cook.”

  Preston once again tucked the bracelet into his pants pocket and headed back out, stopping to say hello to Elizabeth as he did. She lowered her half-glasses and gave Preston the concerned-grandmotherly look, asking how he was getting along in the

  Dawdy Haus. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you tell me and we’ll put a purchase order or work requisition in.”

  “The house is fine, Elizabeth. Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to do plumbing repairs yourself. We have a budget for those sorts of things.” Her gray hair was cut in a short bob, and when she shook her head it swayed slightly back and forth.

  Preston thanked her again, which they both knew meant he wouldn’t call the next time. The way he looked at it, Amber had given him a second chance, a job, and a place to live. He could handle a backed-up drain or leaking faucet.

  He made his way to the parking area, stopping to tell Joshua where he was going and asking him to relay the message to the maintenance secretary. As they spoke, they walked over to Preston’s car—another step toward normalcy. It was a Volkswagen Beetle, 1964, and he’d been slowly restoring it.

  “You put in the new seats.”

  “Last week.”

  “And you covered them yourself?”

  “Zoey helped. She’s better with a needle than I am, but with both of us working on it we were able to re-cover all three seats in a single weekend.”

  “I like the black leather. Should last a gut long time. What’s next? New blue paint job? New convertible top?”

  “I’m still fine-tuning the engine. The paint job can wait, and the top”—he ran his hand over the ivory-colored ragtop, which was stained in places but didn’t leak a drop—“the top is good as is.”

  Joshua looked at Preston with an admiration that caused him to squirm. The last thing he had any business being was a role model for some kid who was about to be married. Not with his history.

  Joshua waved a hand as Preston pulled away.

  He drove toward the jeweler’s. He didn’t forget his promise to Hannah, but it occurred to him that in this case it might be best to give the situation a little time. He’d agreed to talk to Ryan to calm her nerves, but even though he didn’t know him all that well, he was certain the situation would take care of itself. Ryan would be on to another girl before Preston had time to chase him down.

  Five

  Hannah worried the strings to her prayer kapp as she walked beside Jesse. They were making their way home from the Village via the Pumpkinvine Trail. They didn’t hold hands, but they walked close to one another, pausing first to look at the blossoms on a black cherry tree and then to stare at a woodpecker who was busily pecking away for insects high in a maple tree. They stood for a full five minutes and watched a doe standing in the center of a field, the afternoon sun slanting down around her.

  Hannah knew Jesse would kiss her before saying good-bye at her house. She loved the private moments they shared. They made her think ahead to their marriage and the life they’d be embarking on together. She couldn’t imagine feeling closer to him. In the quiet moments standing and watching the doe, it seemed their hearts beat in the same rhythm. In those times when he did pull her into his arms and kiss her lips, she marveled that she fit so naturally within his embrace, her heart tripping and her emotions soaring like the birds flying from the trees.

  It was as if they were connected by an invisible cord, whether or not they were actually touching.

  It was as if they were slowly becoming one person.

  After the doe sprinted away, they continued down the trail.

  “You’re sure it was Letha who had been riding with Ryan?” Hannah kicked at a pebble as they made their way slowly toward home.

  Letha was the manager of Village Fashions. Though she was Amish, Letha had never been married, and now she was old enough to be Hannah’s mother. As far as Hannah knew, the woman had never so much as shared a buggy ride with an eligible man.

  “Ya, it was Letha. There’s no mistaking her dark hair—nearly black. Very unusual for an Amish woman, ya?”

  Hannah shrugged. Letha’s hair would have been covered with a kapp, but often that only accentuated how raven black her hair was. She was fairly easy to pick out in a crowd.

  “She got out of his car in the parking lot earlier today.”

  “Well, she is certainly more his age, but I’m still confused.”

  “Confused about what, Hannah Bell?”

  “Men, I suppose.”

  “All men?”

  “No, not all.” She pushed him playfully so that he brushed up against an Eastern Redbud in full bloom, causing tiny white flowers to shower down onto both of them. “Some men confuse me.”

  “Like Ryan.”

  “Ya. Why does he date both Englisch and Amish? You said you’d seen him in town with a woman from the city. And why date young girls as well as women his age? And why so many? I would think it would get terribly complicated.”

  “I don’t know that Ryan sees it as dating. He’s a friendly guy.”

  “Perhaps among the Englisch that’s okay, but it most certainly is not acceptable in our community.”

  “There was that time when your bruder Ben tried dating one girl in our district and another in Shipshewana.”

  “It didn’t work out so well for him, now did it?” Hannah smiled at the memory.

  “Nein. I still can’t believe those girls found out, spoke to each other, and then—”

  “Both showed up at the ice cream shop where he was seeing one girl for lunch and the other for dinner.”

  “That was a bad idea. Too much ice cream can give you a terrible stomachache.” Jesse dodged to the right to avoid Hannah’s swipe.

  “They straightened him out for sure and certain, and then no one would date him for a good month.”

  “He had to eat his ice cream all alone.”

  “Oh, Jesse. You act as if it’s all fun and games.”

  “It is—”

  “Until someone gets hurt,” they said in unison.

  “Ben never intended to hurt either girl, and I don’t think Ryan does either.” Jesse twined his fingers around her hand. “If the girls think what he’s doing is wrong, they don’t have to go out with him. It’s not as if he sneaks around.”

  “I know Martha’s parents would be happier if she were seeing a nice Amish boy her own age.”

  “Ya, after all, look at how happy your parents are that you’ve made such a fine catch in me.”

  “Jesse Miller, you’re not a fish and I didn’t catch you.”

  They’d reached the lane leading up to her home, and instead of arguing with her, Jesse dodged into the shadow of the large Red Maple, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her thoroughly. For a
moment, Hannah forgot about Martha and Letha and Ryan. For a moment, all she thought of was Jesse and the blessing of their life together.

  But later that night the subject of Ryan came up again while she was helping her mother put her sister to bed.

  Mattie had grown in the last six months.

  She’d also changed in ways that surprised Hannah.

  Perhaps it had been too long since her brothers were small, or maybe now, looking at her little sister, she was realizing she could have her own child within the next year. Maybe. If it was Gotte’s wille. For many girls it was several years before their first baby arrived.

  Mattie was now speaking short sentences, and her vocabulary seemed to increase every day. More pointedly, though, she was sharing her opinion—which was often contrary to everyone else’s.

  “Stay Hannah.” She stuck out her lower lip and threw herself into Hannah’s arms, crocodile tears spouting from her eyes.

  “It’s bedtime for you, Mattie, but not for Hannah. Now, no more arguing.” Eunice entered the room Hannah shared with Mattie. She switched on the battery-operated lantern they kept on the table between their beds.

  Her mother was a little shorter than Hannah and a good twenty pounds heavier. She’d removed her kapp, and her hair hung in a long braid down her back. Once the color of wheat, it was now mixed generously with gray. Good humor softened her tone, though she must have been exhausted. A farmer’s wife woke early and went to bed late! Somehow Eunice managed to do all that was needed without complaining, though she did insist that each member of the family help. Even Mattie had chores, such as putting water out for the chickens (most sloshed on the ground) and helping with their feed (she’d often stand in one place and feed a single chicken).

  Eunice set a small cup of water on the nightstand close to Mattie’s bed.

  “Stay Hannah!” She clung fiercely to Hannah’s neck as if she were in a runaway buggy and fearing for her life.

  “Sweetheart, sit beside me and I’ll read to you while Hannah brushes out your hair.”

  Mattie finally relented, curling up next to her mother, who opened the old family Bible to the book of Genesis, chapter seven. In a soft, gentle voice, she began reading.