A Perfect Square (13 page)

“Probably didn’t realize it. Probably picked it up the night everyone was in their house. They’re nowhere near the same size, but Amish coats all look the same to me.”

Deborah placed the phone on the kitchen counter. “Could be. That could be what happened. So you don’t think Tobias realized it was in his pocket all this time? That was six days ago. I put my hands in my pockets every time I put my coat on.”

“Women do, but men don’t. I know because I watch people as I sit at the counter or while I’m looking out the front of the shop. Men hardly ever place their hands in their pockets.”

“We could ask Tobias,” Deborah whispered.

“Or Reuben.”

The choice hung between them for a moment, until Callie stated the obvious. “Once we ask either one of them, then our choices are limited. Tobias will insist we return it to Reuben. If we try to return it to Reuben, it will be turned over to the authorities.”

“To Shane.”

Callie’s throat went dry at the thought of going to Shane with a piece of evidence. Why did he affect her that way? It wasn’t like he’d arrest her. “Correct.”

“This doesn’t belong to us though.” Deborah stood, backed away from the phone. “It belongs to Reuben. I suppose. Who else would it belong to?”

She looked at Callie then, and Callie knew the moment dawning fell over her, because her face turned the same shade of white that Callie had felt when the thought had first occurred to her. She knew then that white was more than a color: It was a cold, pale shade of understanding that seems to take all of your hope away.

“Oh, Callie. You don’t think this belonged to the girl?”

“Who else?”

“Then how would Reuben have come by it?”

“I don’t know. But if we give it back to him now, it becomes state evidence. We’ll never know what’s in it or if it could help Reuben’s case.”

“And if we keep it?”

“Then we’re withholding evidence.”

E
STHER WOULD HAVE LIKED TO GO
with Tobias to see Reuben.

“Next time,” Tobias promised. “We need to talk farming, and I promise it will bore you. Didn’t you say you’d like to shop at the General Store?”

“
Ya
, but — “

“Then go and enjoy your time alone. I’ll stop by the police station, visit with Reuben, and meet you back here in an hour.”

“Will you give him my love, and tell him that Leah …” A sob caught in her throat and she had to look away. She’d told herself she would not cry today, that today would be a joyful day. With the last of their invitations given out, they were to go back and share dinner with her parents, then prepare for worship tomorrow. Their last service together as two separate individuals rather than man and wife.

“I will tell him that you both remember him in your prayers, that you and little Leah count the days until you see him again.” Tobias put a finger under her chin and turned her face gently until she looked up into his eyes. “He knows. He knows that you and Leah whisper his name each evening as you kneel and unburden your hearts. But I will tell him.”

Esther forced herself to nod, all the time wondering how this man could know her so well. How could he read past the mask she
worked so hard to present, the one that assured everyone all was fine when inside she felt as if her world might crumble?

“Now go and purchase your things. Take your time and enjoy the few moments alone. It’s uncommon in a mother’s life, or so I hear. Perhaps soon we will have another
boppli
on the way and then quiet moments will become even more rare.”

Esther’s blush grew in proportion to Tobias’ smile.

That he could tease as he set off to see his cousin in the Shipshewana Municipal Jail was a comfort to her, but then Tobias’ faith ran deep. It was one of the things that drew her to him. They had spoken at length about this, especially after Deborah had walked out of the meeting with Reuben stating that they were to go on with the marriage. Tobias had nodded and said he had expected his cousin to issue such a decree.

What she didn’t know is why he thought Reuben would see him now when he’d refused to see him before the hearing. But then, men didn’t always make sense to her. She was turning it over in her mind, when she pushed through the front door of the General Store. She nearly bumped into Mrs. Drisban, who was standing at a card carousel a few feet inside the door.

“Hello,” Esther said.

The woman returned her greeting, but with a frown and a nod, not offering even a single word.

Esther shrugged, then moved past her to the kitchen aisle. She was hoping to find some new shelf paper, since they had decided to move into Tobias’
grossdaddi
’s house. She was both excited and nervous about leaving her own home, but she understood that it made the most sense. They had talked about it at length with both their parents, and this was the best plan. This way, Seth’s brother and his young wife could move into the home she’d shared with Seth when he was alive. And someone had to be at the larger farm, since no one knew how long it would be before Reuben would be free to work there again.

Esther chose a blue shelf liner with white flowers that could easily be wiped clean. Turning toward the checkout counter, she was surprised when she nearly tripped over Mrs. Drisban, who had moved closer and was still frowning at her.

The woman barely topped five feet. Probably sixty years old, she dressed in what Callie had called sweat suits, though hers usually sported words on the front. Today’s shirt said
What Happens at Grandma’s House Stays at Grandma’s House.
The words were bordered by a marquee like the one over the Blue Gate Restaurant.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mrs. Drisban?”

“There might be something I can do for you, Esther Zook. You’ve always been a good girl, and I think it’s my duty to speak my mind right now, so I’m going to do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is it true you’re about to marry Tobias Fisher?”

Esther’s lunch began to tumble around in her stomach. “Yes, ma’am. Tobias and I are marrying next week.”

“Well, what are you thinking? You with that sweet little girl, and you’re going to marry the cousin of a murderer? For all you know, he could have been there when Reuben killed that Amish girl. Has that occurred to you?”

Esther stepped back, feeling as if she’d been slapped.

Mrs. Drisban moved forward. “I want you to take this pamphlet. Don’t just stand there! Take it. It’ll explain the Bible to you. Talks about good parenting. Has Bible verses and everything.”

Esther opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She suddenly felt incredibly warm. There was a roaring in her ears, but unfortunately not loud enough to block Mrs. Drisban’s parting remarks. “I would think you’d put the needs of your daughter first, even if you didn’t care about your own safety. I declare, you Amish people can be so simpleminded at times.”

Then Mrs. Drisban turned and swept out of the store, leaving
Esther standing there, holding the Bible pamphlet in one hand and her new shelf paper in the other: blue with white flowers.

“I don’t have to agree to see him, do I?” Reuben didn’t bother to look through the bars at Andrew Gavin, and he most certainly didn’t stand up from his bunk.

“No, you don’t have to, but if you want my opinion you should.”

“Didn’t ask for it, so I don’t suppose I want it.” Reuben regretted the way the words came out, but truth was he’d rather be left alone. He stared at the closed Bible on the cot beside him, then glanced up at Gavin. “You’re still here.”

“I am.”

“Is there a reason?”

“There is.”

“Want to share it?”

“I do.”

Reuben sighed and ran his hand over his face — smooth, shaven, unmarried. Hadn’t bothered him before, but in the last week, he’d begun questioning his choices, begun questioning a lot of things.

“Spit it out then, since you’re apparently not going to leave until you have your say.”

Gavin stood perfectly straight, the way he always did. Even the times he’d come to pick up the wooden furniture he’d ordered, he’d held himself that way — rather like the bishop at the front of the church. As if he needed to stand perfectly erect in order for others to see him clearly. There was also usually a quietness about him. He wasn’t like many of the
Englischers
who felt like they needed to speak to fill up the silence. Perhaps that was why they’d struck up a friendship of sorts.

“I see a lot of people come through here. Many never have a
visitor. You keep turning people away. That man out there is like your brother, and I don’t understand what it would hurt to give him five minutes of your time.”

“That’s just it. You don’t understand. Probably because you’re not on this side of the bars now, are you?” Reuben allowed some of the anger he’d been so carefully controlling to slip out, like steam escaping from a kettle. It was not the Amish way, he knew, but the anger had been building for days and wouldn’t be denied.

“No, I’m not. And I don’t plan to be.” Gavin’s voice remained perfectly steady and even toned. “We’re not talking about me though, and at the moment we’re not even talking about you. We’re talking about Tobias.”

“And what would you know about him?” Reuben was off the cot now, halfway between the cot and the bars, his voice rising. “He’s not your kin. You haven’t lived with him, watched him pass life by only to see him finally get a chance at the one thing you haven’t had. What could you possibly know about my cousin that I don’t?”

“I know he’s out there torn in two because you won’t give him fifteen minutes. I know he’s about to get married, apparently because you told him not to postpone it — “

“That would be none of your business.”

“Someone has to tell you when you’re messing up, and you won’t allow anyone else near you. So why don’t you man-up, walk out into the visitation room, and face your cousin. Consider it your wedding present to him.”

Reuben had made it across the small cell and was now clutching the bars, staring into Andrew’s eyes. Andrew hadn’t backed up, not even one step. And though he was armed and there were cameras watching their every move, Reuben suddenly realized those weren’t the reasons the young officer hadn’t backed down. The reason was the same reason his sisters had stopped by and Tobias was waiting even now — somehow Andrew had grown to care for him over the last year.

Somehow Andrew believed in his innocence.

Ten minutes later Reuben found himself sitting across a metal table from Tobias, his hands cuffed in front of him.

Tobias had gone through a rundown of the final harvest and how the few animals they kept were doing, and was now reciting who he and Esther had seen this morning to invite to the wedding.

“Look, I don’t mean to interrupt, and any other time I might be interested in these details.” Reuben took his hands from his lap and dropped them on the table with a clang that caused Tobias to jump. “But we have about ten minutes left here, and I don’t really think you stopped by to tell me these things.”

“No. I suppose I didn’t.” Tobias ran his hand over the top of his head, and Reuben knew he felt odd without his hat or wool cap on top of it. “Actually I came to ask you to break your silence, to ask you to give a statement to the officer. I know you didn’t have anything to do with that girl’s death—”

“And how do you know that?”

“I know you didn’t, and there’s no use being contrary with me. I’ve lived with you too long. So whatever is wedged into that head of yours, whatever reason you’re doing this, I’ve come to ask you to reconsider.”

Reuben sat back in the metal chair and stared at his cousin.

“I suppose you’ve thought it through, as you do most things. Never knew you to rush into any decision. But I’ve done a lot of thinking myself since Esther stumbled on the girl’s corpse. However you knew her — and I don’t know how; I’d love to hear that part someday when you’re back home and ready to tell me — I reckon you were as surprised as Esther was to see her floating there.”

Tobias looked up at the television monitor in the corner of the room, licked his lips, and pushed on. “Figure that must have caused you no small amount of pain, especially seeing as you did allow her to stay on our place and she was part of the fellowship.”

“You think her death would matter less if she were an
Englischer
?” Reuben’s voice was a low growl.

“Didn’t say that, did I? Truth is, I’m trying to work through why you’d be willing to give up your freedom for a girl you didn’t kill.” He paused, and Reuben knew he was waiting for him to agree or deny, but he didn’t. “Best I can come up with is that you’re protecting someone.”

Reuben thought of the letter he’d received a month ago, the one he’d responded to and then destroyed. He could tell Tobias about it, but what good would it do? Tobias would then be keeping information from Shane as well. Tobias would then also be
obstructing justice.

“Can’t imagine who you’d be protecting or why you’d protect a killer, but that’s not my place to know either.”

“So what is your place, Tobias? Why are you here?” Reuben leaned forward until their faces were a mere inch apart.

The officer in the corner of the room cleared his throat, shook his head no, and Reuben sat back.

“I’m here to remind you of your duty to family, Reuben. You do remember your family, right? You remember your
mamm
and your
daed
and the commandment to honor them? If you could see your parents right now, if you would agree to see them right now, you would understand that you’ve broken that commandment along with a few others.”

Reuben stood, his chair screeching as he pushed it back. “So you came to lecture me about the Scripture.”

“I came to ask you to reconsider, if not for yourself, then for your family.”

Reuben looked out the small window that was in the visitor’s room. When he did, he could see a few branches of a tree outside the Shipshewana City Hall, which housed the Shipshewana Municipal Jail. He was reminded then of Adalyn Landt’s words, when she’d warned him that he might miss fall turning to winter.

But he’d missed a lot more in his life than the changing of a season.

He knew that now.

“Most folks think they’ll have all their lives, Tobias. Think they’ll have another chance. Think
If I don’t do this today, I can do it tomorrow. If I don’t ask her this Sunday, I’ll ask her next
.” A fist closed around Reuben’s heart, and he wondered what a heart attack felt like, wondered if he even cared anymore. “We think,
If I don’t marry this season, I can do it next.
”

Reuben shook his head, stepped around the chair, and pushed it back toward the table with the toe of his prison-issued shoe. “Doesn’t work that way. You marry Esther, be a
gut dat
to Leah. Those are things you will never regret.”

Then, before Tobias could answer, Reuben told the officer he wanted to be taken back to his cell.