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  “You doubled your customer base.”

  Was that admiration she saw in Tony Vargas’ eyes? Pride was a sin, and Agatha didn’t consider herself to be a prideful person, but she was pleased with how the business portion of her Texas venture was coming along.

  “Exactly,” she said.

  “So tell me how this works...how do you adhere to the rules of your faith and still run a business?”

  “That’s the key. It’s a business, and our bishop makes allowances for that.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “All right.” She sat back, more relaxed than when the conversation had first turned toward Russell Dixon. Maybe that was what Tony was doing—trying to loosen her up before he focused more directly on the subject of her deceased guest.

  “As Amish, we don’t use electricity, computers, many conveniences of the modern world within our homes. For example, I have a horse and buggy instead of a car.”

  “But I’ve seen you ride in a car. The other day an Uber driver picked you up.”

  “I had an appointment over in Kerrville, which is too far to take Doc.”

  “Doc?”

  “My mare.”

  “So you won’t own a car, but you’ll ride in one.”

  “We prefer not to have the expense or convenience of a car.”

  “Explain that to me.”

  “When you have a car, you’re likely to zip around for any reason at all. When you have to harness a horse to a buggy, you consolidate your trips. By travelling in the old style, we keep our lives simple and our focus on what matters—home and family. But we don’t believe cars are evil.”

  “Got it. And the electricity and computers?”

  “Pretty much the same idea. My cabins have electricity and Wi-Fi for guests. In the house, the suites do not have electricity, and those are the rooms my Amish guests usually book.”

  “I thought the Coopers were staying in the house.”

  “They are. The cabins were full.” Agatha ate the last bit of her donut, then added, “And the Fishers, who are obviously Amish, are staying in a cabin. Exceptions to our Ordnung are allowed on vacation, and they preferred being closer to the river.”

  “Do you use a computer for business, and do you have a phone?”

  “I don’t have a cell phone, but I have an office where I have both a telephone landline and a computer...it’s handy for taking reservations.” She sighed and looked out over the water. “Some Amish would not approve of that. They feel that any electricity in your home is wrong. Other communities allow solar power in the homes—which is what I have here in the main house. The cabins, they’re powered with traditional electricity. It all depends on the Ordnung of the community.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Our rules or guidelines for living a faithful life.”

  “Okay. Thank you for explaining that.”

  “Is it important?”

  “It might be. It’s hard to say what is and isn’t important in an investigation.” Tony pushed his coffee cup aside and crossed his arms on the table, making certain he had her complete attention before he continued. “I went into the police department this morning and spoke with Bannister. He wasn’t very forthcoming.”

  “He doesn’t want you solving his case.”

  “Right. It’s his turf, and he wants me to respect the very obvious line he’s drawn between police and civilians. I’m now a civilian.”

  “You two worked together before?”

  “Yes, before I retired—that was four years ago.”

  “I heard you call him lieutenant. And you were a detective?”

  “Lieutenant is his rank. The highest I rose to was sergeant, which was fine. I never wanted to do the administrative stuff. And yes, I was a detective, as is he.”

  “Which means you handled murders?”

  “Detectives are essentially investigators—they gather facts and collect evidence in many different types of cases.”

  “All right. You certainly understand more about these matters than I do.” Agatha’s anxiety had calmed as Tony spoke. It helped to understand the lay of the land, as her dat used to say. “What did you learn when you visited him this morning?”

  “Bannister told me the case is still open, which probably means they’re going to rule it as a death by unnatural causes.”

  “Someone killed Mr. Dixon?”

  “Maybe, though that category can also include accidents and drug overdoses.”

  Agatha massaged her left thumb with her right hand. Long ago, when she’d been a young woman, she had the terrible habit of biting her nails. She’d overcome that by substituting something more hygienic.

  “I stopped by Julia Perez’s home after I’d seen Bannister.”

  “She’s someone you trust?”

  “She is. Julia was my secretary long before she worked for Jimmy Bannister, and she’s a good person. She wouldn’t lie to me. If she felt like she couldn’t discuss a thing, she’d say as much, but she wouldn’t lie.”

  “And what did Julia tell you?”

  “That the police didn’t find Mr. Dixon’s phone or computer.”

  “Well, he definitely had a phone.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “A phone.”

  “Big or small?”

  She put her fingertips together, forming a rectangle that was approximately five inches by three inches.

  “Probably an iPhone then. The androids are larger.”

  “I don’t know what either of those things are.”

  “Did he flip it open to use it?”

  “Nein. It was a screen, and he kept tapping on it. He never actually spoke into the screen, not in front of me.” She shifted in her seat, then added, “I have a sign on the front door asking guests to step outside if they feel the need to use their mobile devices, but he ignored that even when I pointed it out to him.”

  “So he wasn’t an accommodating fellow.”

  Agatha stared at Tony, but she wasn’t really seeing him. She was trying to put a finger on what had bothered her about Russell Dixon from the very beginning. Finally, she snapped her fingers. “He acted like he didn’t want to be here...like he was put out about the whole thing. That’s what struck me as odd. People can sometimes be nervous when they’re trying a new place for vacation, but I’ve never seen anyone act as if they were forced to be here.”

  “Then the question becomes something else entirely.”

  “It does?”

  “Yes. The question becomes, who was Dixon working for and what was he doing at your B&B?”

  Chapter Eight

  Tony stood and stretched. He often had trouble thinking clearly about a case while sitting still. He stood, then walked around the perimeter of the patio area. Suddenly the sound of a siren split the peacefulness of the day. It was followed quickly by flashing lights as two cruisers pulled into the parking area in front of Agatha’s house.

  “This isn’t good.”

  “What’s going on? Why are they back?” Agatha jumped up and moved to stand beside Tony as car doors slammed.

  “We’re about to find out.”

  Bannister was already skirting the house, followed by his sidekick Tami Griffin. Two other officers took up position on each side of the house, as if they expected someone to make a run for it.

  “What’s this about?” Tony asked.

  Bannister had stopped in front of Agatha. “Agatha Lapp, we are detaining you for questioning in the death of Russell Dixon.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Tony muttered.

  “I don’t understand.” Agatha stepped backwards when Bannister reached out to guide her toward the waiting cruisers. “Am I under arrest? Do you think I killed that man?”

  Bannister stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Do you really want to do this in front of your guests?”

  It was at that moment that both Agatha and Tony looked around. The Glicks and the Fishers had appeared from their morning stroll
. Now they were frozen on the path, staring, open-mouthed, at the officer and Agatha.

  “I can’t...I can’t just leave everyone.”

  “You don’t really have a choice,” Bannister practically growled.

  Tony sighed. He knew there was no use arguing with Bannister, though the man was plainly a fool.

  “Can’t you just ask me your questions here?”

  “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that.”

  “More serious in what way?”

  “You can come with us now or I can come back with an arrest warrant this afternoon. It looks better if you cooperate.”

  Tony couldn’t hold himself back a moment longer. He inserted himself between Agatha and Bannister, lowered his voice so the guests wouldn’t hear, and lambasted the man. “You and I both know Agatha didn’t kill anyone. Just because you want another notch on your belt—”

  “Stay out of this, Vargas.”

  “A quick arrest looks good until the judge figures out you arrested the wrong person.”

  “You’re lucky I’m not pulling you in with her.” Bannister seemed to have forgotten Agatha for a moment. He stood toe to toe with Tony and hissed, “You two obviously have a special relationship. Who’s to say you’re not involved?”

  “A better question is if you’re qualified to work in law enforcement.”

  Bannister spun away from Tony and addressed Agatha. “Mrs. Lapp, you need to come with me.”

  “All right.”

  Tony was at Agatha’s side in a second. “Don’t say a word until your lawyer arrives.”

  “But—”

  “Just promise me you’ll wait until your lawyer arrives.”

  “I don’t have a lawyer.”

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  “Okay.” Agatha’s hand flew to the top of her head, as if she needed to be sure her head covering was firmly in place. “Can I...get my purse?”

  “Go with her, Tami.” Bannister turned and strode back to his cruiser without another word.

  Tami and Agatha hurried toward the back door, Tony close on their heels.

  Once they entered her house, Agatha seemed to recover her equilibrium. She strode to her office, snagged her purse off the back of the door where it was hanging from a hook, and looked longingly at a bag sitting next to a rocking chair.

  “Do you think I could take my knitting?”

  “No. They won’t let you have that.”

  “Oh.”

  Tony moved in front of her, ignoring the fact that Tami was sticking close. No doubt she’d been told to listen carefully to anything they said.

  “It’s going to be all right, Agatha.”

  “Of course it is. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “We’re going to straighten this out. I’ll call Kiara—Kiara Bledsoe. She’s a good person and a fine lawyer. You can trust her.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

  “Wait for her to get there. Don’t answer anything until she’s in the room with you.”

  “All right.”

  “Bannister will figure out he has the wrong person. He’s not a bad cop, just overly ambitious.” He shot a dark look toward Tami when he said the last, but she only shrugged, her hand resting on the butt of her pistol as if they were two dangerous criminals who might make a break for it at any minute.

  “What else can I do here...to help with your guests?”

  “Gina should arrive in the next half hour. Ask her to stay until I’m back.” Agatha sighed. “I already had a long list of things to do today. One just never knows what direction a day is going to take.”

  With her head held high, she turned and marched out of the room.

  Tony wanted to go with her, but he knew Bannister wouldn’t let him in the interrogation room. No, he needed to call Kiara. They’d been through plenty together, and he knew she’d be able to guide Agatha through this.

  If she was in town.

  If she had time to take on one more case.

  If not, she’d recommend someone else highly qualified.

  Finding adequate representation for Agatha wasn’t the problem.

  The problem was that Bannister had unearthed something new regarding the case, and whatever it was must have pointed toward Agatha being the killer.

  Chapter Nine

  Fortunately, Agatha was good at waiting. Their church services ran to three hours as they sat on wooden benches with no back support. Sitting in Lieutenant Bannister’s interrogation room was not a problem. She only wished she could be knitting.

  The clock on the wall inched toward two in the afternoon. At least they’d brought her a bottle of water. She’d spent the first hour praying, the second hour wondering why she was there, and the third thinking of how she could remove the built-up wax from the linoleum floor. The starkness of the room didn’t particularly bother her. A table, two chairs on each side. Walls painted a soft gray with a black baseboard.

  She’d once stopped by Gina’s home when her friend was watching some detective show on the television. That room was stark looking with cracked linoleum, a stainless steel table, and grimy walls. This room looked quite different from the one portrayed on the program, except for the long, darkened window on the opposite wall. One exactly like that had been in the television show. She understood that she couldn’t see through the window, but someone could be watching her. She was tempted to wave at whomever might be sitting on the opposite side.

  Despite the built-up wax on the floor, the building itself seemed to be newly constructed. The table had a nice, light, oak veneer finish. The chairs were covered with dark blue upholstery. Industrial-type carpet with a blue and gray pattern softened the sound of footsteps in the hall. She wondered why this interrogation room wasn’t carpeted and decided she’d rather not know.

  There was a television mounted on the wall, but it was turned off. Perhaps they used it to show criminals their dastardly deeds caught on video. Well, they wouldn’t need it for her. Agatha had committed no dastardly deeds. She’d done nothing wrong, and she didn’t think she’d ever been videotaped.

  She was, however, ready to go home. The fluorescent lights were giving her a headache, her stomach had begun to growl, and any possibility of attacking her to-do list seemed to be vanishing with each minute ticked off the clock. She’d planned to spend an hour working in her vegetable garden, and her guests—if she still had any after they’d watched her escorted away in the police cruiser—would be wondering what had happened to her.

  She was seriously considering tapping on the window and telling them she would answer their questions without the lawyer Tony was sending. Why did she need a lawyer? Innocent people didn’t need someone to defend them. Did they?

  The question had no sooner popped into her head than Tami, the nice police officer who’d driven her to the police station, walked in, followed by a woman Agatha could only assume was the lawyer. Bannister came in last and shut the door behind him.

  The woman she didn’t know walked around to Agatha’s side of the table and set a black leather bag down on the floor as she took a seat. She was slim, well-dressed, middle-aged, and black.

  “I’m Kiara Bledsoe.” Making no attempt to lower her voice, she added, “Tony sent me. Just follow my lead, and we’ll have you out of here in no time.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Ms. Bledsoe.” Bannister was smiling as if he’d just caught a record-setting fish. “Nice of you to show up for a client you never met, but your overconfidence won’t help in this case.”

  Instead of responding to the bait, Kiara pulled a phone from her purse, tapped the screen a few times, then placed the device in the middle of the table.

  “The date is Thursday, June thirteenth, and the time is two seventeen in the afternoon. This questioning is taking place in the Hunt County Sheriff’s Department building. My name is Kiara Bledsoe, Esquire, and I am representing Agatha Lapp. Also present for this interrogation are...”

 
She waited. Bannister had crossed his arms and was shooting darts with his glare, but it didn’t intimidate Kiara one bit.

  Agatha thought she was going to like this woman.

  Finally, Bannister sat up straighter, smoothed down his tie, and said, “Lieutenant James Bannister.”

  Kiara glanced at the woman sitting beside Bannister.

  “Officer Tami Griffin.”

  Kiara made eye contact with Agatha and nodded her head toward the phone.

  “Yes. Of course. My name is Agatha Lapp.”

  Kiara sat back and smiled, “Let’s do this.”

  Oh, Agatha liked Kiara Bledsoe, Esquire. She’d obviously done this before, probably in this very room, and definitely opposite Bannister. In fact, if Agatha was reading the dynamics between them correctly—and she was exceptionally good at reading people—these two had sparred before and it looked like Kiara had won.

  Bannister cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about Russell Dixon.”

  “Not a question, Detective.”

  Bannister’s smile froze, and it seemed as if the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

  “We would like to state for the record that my client is more than happy to answer your questions to the best of her ability, but let’s be clear...this is not the proper time for a fishing expedition.”

  Bannister stared at Kiara another minute. When she didn’t flinch, didn’t respond to his intimidating silence, he turned toward Agatha and launched into his interrogation.

  Chapter Ten

  “Why did you tell us you didn’t know Russell Dixon?”

  “Because I didn’t.”

  “You’ve never been in communication with him at all?”

  “Nein.”

  “Never heard his name?”

  “Why would I?”

  “You weren’t aware of who he was?”

  “I was not, and I still do not know who he was.”

  Bannister glanced at Griffin, who opened the folder she’d sat on the table in front of her, pulled out a sheet of paper, and handed it to the lieutenant. Pretending he needed to read it, he ran a finger down the typed lines, stopped two-thirds down, stabbed a bulleted item and spun the sheet around to face Agatha.