A Perfect Square (9 page)

Tears welled up in the old man’s eyes, turning their blue to a shimmery lake. When he looked at her, a single tear slipped down his weathered cheek, though he didn’t seem to notice. It caught in the wrinkles of his cheeks, then worked its way down. “She couldn’t come today. I thought I’d stop in just the same. Stop at the general store and the post office. See if there was any news from the family.”

“Mr. Bontrager, who is your family? Can you tell me their names?”

“Normally I pick up the supplies at the general store, and Sharon, she comes over here and picks out a little material.” He pronounced it
mater-ee-ail.
“Women-folk don’t call it that.”

“Cloth?” Callie asked gently.

He looked at her sharply, his gaze clearing for a moment. “
Ya
. The last time she came in, she picked out a little bit of cloth for the baby.” His hand shook more, causing the tea to slop and spill over the side of the cup. He leaned forward, set it down on the saucer.

Then he reached for his cane and ran his hand up and down the wood. She noticed that the engraving wasn’t letters but rather a cross, a hammer, and a nail — three items in a row but touching at the corners, forming a ring that circled the cane. It seemed to calm him, center him in some way. When he spoke again, Callie had the sense that he was back in the present time and place, but the feeling remained that something wasn’t quite right.

“The baby is why I’m here.”

Callie glanced toward the front room, out the windows.
Where was Gavin?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Bontrager.”

“Need you to find my
dochder.
Are you daft?”

“If your daughter’s missing, you should see the police.”

“Too late. It’s too late for that. Might be old, but I’m not senile.”

The word senile set off an alarm in Callie’s mind. He probably wasn’t
senile
, but he might have Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia. If he’d been walking all night and missed his meds or become dehydrated, his condition was no doubt worse.

“Mr. Bontrager, is there someone I can call for you?”

“You already asked me that. There’s no need. Besides I heard you call someone. They’ll be here soon enough, and they’ll take me back to that place. Before they do, you need to listen to me. You and that dog. You’re both good at solving things, right?”

“I’m not sure why you think that.”

“Saw your picture in the paper.” He raised his cane, nearly knocking over the basket of tea, and pointed it at the framed picture of her and Max, the one taken after they’d caught Stakehorn’s murderer.

“That was an unusual situation. We don’t normally go looking for trouble.”

“Most of us don’t,
dochder.
But trouble sometimes has a way of coming to us. Find my girl — find Bethany.” Bontrager reached out a hand lined with age. It was mostly bone, skin, and veins. Trembling, he grasped her arm. “Please, find my
dochder.
I need to see her one more time.”

There was a light tap on the shop’s door, followed by a jingle of the bell. Gavin had finally arrived. Bontrager let go of Callie’s arm, reached for another cookie, and tossed it to Max.

D
EBORAH WAS ON THE WAY DOWN
Main Street, headed toward the bishop’s when she saw the police cruiser parked at Callie’s shop. “Should we stop?”

“
Ya
. Reuben’s not going anywhere. Let’s see if Callie needs our help.”

She pulled the buggy into the parking lot of the quilt shop and shot a glance at Esther. She couldn’t imagine what else had gone wrong, why Callie would be standing with Max while talking to Andrew Gavin and two Amish men.

Esther reached for Leah while Deborah secured Cinnamon and helped Joshua out.

“Why is the officer talking to Miss Callie,
Mamm
? And whose
grossdaddi
is that?” Leah slipped her hand into Esther’s as they hurried toward the front of the shop.

“Thank you again for watching after my dat.” A portly, middle-aged Amish man helped his father into an older buggy. He nodded once at Deborah and Esther, then climbed into the buggy himself.

“Mr. Bontrager, are you sure …” Callie hesitated, speaking to the younger of the two Amish men, then pushed on. “It’s just that he seemed so sure about a missing daughter.”

Deborah couldn’t see the expression on the old man’s face from where she stood, but it was quite clear to her that the younger man was struggling between anger and exhaustion. As with most Amish men she knew, he remained quiet until he was sure he’d won over the anger. When he did finally answer Callie, his words were a bit sharp, but even-toned.

“And wouldn’t I know if I had a
schweschder
missing? I can assure you, it was his mind wandering. Next time he could show up and tell you that he has the keys to the great farm on the hill.” He picked up his hat and resettled it on his head. “But there is no great farm, and there’s no missing
dochder.
It’s the sickness.”

He glanced at Callie once. “Thank you again for calling Officer Gavin.”

A bit of the anger seeped into his voice, winning over his attempt to master it. “They should keep a closer eye on him. Shouldn’t be allowing old men to wander around in the dark of night. Anything could have happened to him.” He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, mopped at the sweat running down his face, then carefully folded it and returned it to his pocket. Without looking back at them he muttered,
“Gut
day to you.”

A snap of his wrist set his mare to a trot.

Callie, Gavin, Deborah, Esther, and the little ones were left standing in the parking lot, staring after the buggy as it made its way down Main Street. Finally they remembered to say hello to one another.

“Callie, who was that man?” Deborah shook her head, unable to imagine how her friend had managed to find mischief so early in the day.

“I don’t know exactly, but he showed up in my garden this morning, and then … well, come inside for tea, and I’ll tell you the whole story.”

“I’ll leave you to explain your latest escapade,” Gavin muttered with a smile — a smile that Deborah thought was very sweet.

Why was Callie turning down dates with Gavin? He’d called her again last week; Callie had admitted as much to her. He was such a nice young man. “I need to complete some paperwork before I go off shift.”

“Thanks for coming so quickly. I wasn’t sure what to do.” Callie tucked her hair behind her ears then reached down to pat Max.

“You did the right thing. They didn’t even realize he was gone at the
Grossdaddi
House. According to the night supervisor, Bontrager was there when they checked on him at three this morning, but apparently the old guy is quite skilled at sneaking away.” Gavin turned and had made it halfway to his police cruiser, when Esther called out after him.

“Officer Gavin, how is Reuben?”

“Reuben?” Callie turned to Deborah. “Why is she asking Gavin about Reuben?”

“I’ll explain in a minute.”

Gavin stopped and it seemed he would answer her from the distance of six feet, but he walked back across the pavement, stopping next to them. “He’s all right. No one else is in the jail right now, so it’s pretty quiet.”

“In jail? Reuben is in jail?”

“Callie, stay calm. We’re here to work this out. We were on our way to see the bishop and then Adalyn. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” Deborah placed her hand on Callie’s arm to settle her down.

“It’s not a misunderstanding,” Gavin said. “But you don’t need to worry about him. He’s in no danger in the jail.”

“That’s good to know, but it’s not exactly what I was asking. What I meant is, how long — “ Esther moistened her lips, then pushed on. “How long do you think he’ll be there?”

Deborah saw Gavin’s eyes fill with compassion, saw him glance away, then force himself to look back at Esther, and she
knew then, knew fully and completely, that they were in for a long fight.

“Shane plans to file charges.”

“File charges?” Callie’s voice rose so high Max growled again. “For what?”

“For murder. Shane doesn’t like it either — believe me — but he can’t ignore the evidence, and he has enough to hold Reuben until the judge hears the initial arraignment.”

“Like what?” Callie moved toward Gavin, but he shook his head.

“You know I can’t tell you — “

“Well, what did he find, Andrew? Reuben’s fingerprints around the girl’s neck? Oh, wait. She’d been whacked in back of the head …”

“Callie — “

“Did he find a hammer hidden in the woodshed?”

“Callie.”

“You know Reuben couldn’t have done this!” Callie actually stamped her foot.

Deborah stepped forward and put her arm around Esther lest she collapse right there on Callie’s pavement. Though they’d known Reuben had been arrested and had talked about it at the house, to hear it coming out of Gavin’s mouth made it seem more real, more serious. “Adalyn will be there soon — “ Deborah said, trying to comfort Esther.

“It’s good that Adalyn will help, but it won’t change the nature of the charge,” Gavin continued.

Esther’s entire body had gone rigid, like ice had settled over her, and it worried Deborah more than if she’d broken into sobs. She glanced at Callie for help.

But Callie was still trying to catch up, still looking from Deborah to Esther to Gavin, her head moving back and forth like a bird caught on a strong breeze.

“What is an initial arraignment, Andrew?” Deborah kept her voice steady, aiming for optimism. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a formal reading of the charges. The defendant — Reuben — is informed of his right to retain counsel.”

“Adalyn.” Callie stepped closer to Deborah and Esther, finally seeming to grasp what was happening, and as she did, she joined them in this wave of trouble that was crashing toward them. “His counsel will be Adalyn.”

“Yes, or he can choose someone with more criminal experience.”

“Then what happens?” Deborah wanted it out, wanted the worst of it right now.

“The judge will decide whether to set bail, and if so, what amount. In this case, I wouldn’t expect it. That’s only my opinion though, and Shane would have my head if he even knew I was talking to you about a pending case.”

“Why wouldn’t the judge set bail?” Callie sounded calmer now, but still offended, as if it were all some giant mistake.

Deborah wasn’t entirely clear on what bail meant, though she understood it had to do with money, and money wouldn’t be a problem. Family and friends would provide whatever money Reuben needed.

“I can’t say any more.” Gavin’s radio squawked once, and he reached to answer it. When he’d clipped it back to his belt, he turned again to Esther. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news. The judge wasn’t scheduled to be here again until Friday, but she’s coming in early for the initial arraignment. She’ll be here Thursday morning.”

“Thank you, Andrew.” Callie looked as if she wanted to say more, even reached out to stop him, but then drew her hand back. Instead she herded the children into the shop, Max trotting along beside them, while Deborah helped Esther.

What was it that Shane Black had learned? What terrible evidence had he found that would convince a judge that Reuben
needed to stay in the
Englisch
jail? And did this mean Esther was right? Would Tobias want to postpone the wedding?

Reuben gazed down at his handcuffed hands. The confines of being arrested still surprised him, even after two days. He woke in the morning and expected to be able to walk out to the fields and do his day’s work.

Being idle was difficult.

His arms were large, powerful.

He tugged on the chains once, then again, causing them to rattle. It seemed as though he should be able to break the thin bands of metal, but of course they didn’t give at all.

The
Englischers
had done their job well.

“Reuben, are you listening to me?” Adalyn Landt leaned across the table. She was a big woman, reminding him some of his own
mamm
— gray hair pulled back in a bun, thick through the waist, tallish, and no nonsense about her. There the similarities ended though. Adalyn wore a dark blue business suit with a bit of orange trim, light makeup, and her mannerisms were all
Englisch.

She tapped the folder that lay on the polished oak table.

Oak.

He rubbed his fingers across it. There were so many things he’d miss if matters continued down the path it seemed they would, the path that seemed to be
Gotte’s wille.
Already his heart ached from all that would be torn from his life.

He touched the overly polished finish of the table and longed for the clean scents of his woodworking shop. It had been only two days, but he missed working with his wood, missed his family more — his
mamm
and
dat
and, of course, Tobias — missed the fields and the animals.

Missed his freedom.

But what was the alternative? He’d chased it round in his mind like a hungry barn cat chasing a mouse through bales of hay. He saw no way out.

A girl was dead, and according to
Englisch
laws, it must be investigated.

According to Black, murder had been committed, and the guilty party must pay.

He looked up to meet Adalyn’s waiting gaze. “Did you speak to Deborah?”

“She’ll be here soon, but I don’t see how Deborah can help your case.”

He shrugged and stared down at his hands again, which he’d allowed to fall in his lap.

Instead of backing off, Adalyn walked around the table, pulled out the chair next to him, and sat. “Stop frowning at your hands, Reuben. Look out the window. Look at that large tree, how it rises against the sky. Look at the last of the fall leaves.”

Resisting her suggestion was futile. Reuben raised his eyes and took in the autumn morning.

Her voice was urgent, low, and so close he could smell the peppermint candy she’d eaten before entering the room. “Now I can’t guarantee that we can win this. However, I can promise that you won’t see fall turn to winter — not one day of it — if you don’t start talking to me and give me something, some reason to convince the judge that you aren’t going to hurt anyone.
Englisch
trials are a long, slow process. I’d rather you do the waiting on the outside.”

Reuben looked at her then, really looked at her. Let his gaze drill into the depths of her blue eyes, eyes that resembled the steel he’d seen on the rims of the
Englischers’
tires. This was a woman who would fight for him. The problem was that Reuben had spent his entire life avoiding fights, and yes — avoiding the
Englischers
as much as possible.

Now he was to trust her?

How could he begin to tell Adalyn Landt everything that had happened since Katie had shown up at his farm six days ago? How could he explain what he didn’t understand himself?

He was saved from the attempt by a light tap on the door.

He saw Deborah’s prayer
kapp
first, then she entered the room, turned toward them, and allowed a small smile to crease her worried face. Reuben let out an audible sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here, Deborah. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

“There are more problems?”

“He won’t speak. He won’t give me anything to use in his defense. We go in front of Judge Stearns in fifteen minutes, and I don’t know what I’m going to tell her other than this man who looks like he could take on an ox single-handedly most assuredly didn’t kill anyone, because he couldn’t kill anyone, because he’s Amish, and we all know Amish folk are the meek of the earth.” Adalyn picked up her bag, which appeared to be made of a nicer leather than Reuben’s finest harness and matched the piping on her dark blue suit, and pulled the strap over her shoulder.

She walked across the room as if she were ready to take on the Shipshewana officers outside. Reuben had no doubt that she could handle them on her own.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room. There’s a guard in the hall, so don’t even try escaping with him.” She stopped and gave Deborah a hug. “I’ll buy you pie for a month if you persuade him to talk.”

Then she was gone.

Reuben waited until the door had closed, waited until Deborah had walked across the room and taken the seat Adalyn had vacated. He waited until the silence had settled around them with the warmth of a quilt against a blizzard.

Deborah didn’t speak first, but then he didn’t expect her to. The quietness soothed him. If there was anything about the jail
that pricked his soul, it was the constant noise. He supposed it was a small price to pay.

Raising his still-cuffed hands, he clumsily ran one over his face, then cleared his throat and began. “Guess you’re wondering why I sent for you.”

“Your
mamm
and
dat
are waiting outside. Tobias and Esther as well.”

Reuben shook his head. “They’ll be having a hard enough time with this. Don’t want to cause them more pain than what has already been laid at their door.” Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“You’ve always been a
gut freind
to my family,” he continued.

“And I always will be.”

“I knew I could trust you to see that what I ask is done. Tobias is to proceed with the wedding next week. He might be tempted to postpone, but I want him to carry on as if I were there. I imagine it would be easier if they live at our place now, since it might be some time before I’m back home to work the fields and see to the animals. Suspect they’d rather live in the house than the barn, but that’s up to the family to decide.”