A Plain Malice: An Appleseed Creek Mystery (Appleseed Creek Mystery Series Book 4) (15 page)

I perched on the couch close to Becky’s head.
“Will you be all right here by yourself for a few days?”

She offered me an eas
y smile. I was relieved she wasn’t upset at my comment about her hair.

Becky sat up.
“I’ll be fine. Gigabyte and I will watch all the Food Network we want.”

I laughed. “You already do
.” I scooted a little closer to her. “Did you look at those college applications I printed for you?”

Becky frowned. “I will.”

Growing up Amish, Becky’s formal education stopped at the eighth grade. After weeks of studying, she easily passed the GED. Now, she had to decide where she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

“What’s the point of looking at them now? I don’t have nearly enough money saved up to go to school.”

“You should have a goal,” I said, sounding like a mother hen, a quality that I hadn’t known I had until I met Becky. Becky turned twenty in January, and I was twenty-four. There was little difference in our ages, but I had twice the life experience, and as an academic I knew how important an education was for Becky’s future. “And if you still don’t have the money when you are ready, you’ll get a loan. I have loans that I’ll be paying back until I’m fifty.”

“That seems like a strange way to do it.”

I wasn’t surprised at Becky’s hesitation toward a loan. Most Amish were reluctant to be indebted to someone even to a bank. The Amish lived within their means. “There are many good programs at reasonable costs at the community college level or at state universities. True, you will probably need a loan for these too, but it won’t be nearly as much if you went to a school like Harshberger.”

She frowned. “Harshberger is the closest.”

I laughed. “It is across the street, and I would love it if you could go there. However, it’s not realistic.”

She picked up the remote and turned off the television.
“I don’t know if I even want to go to college.”

For a moment I reveled in the quiet.
I was really tired of hearing about another summer barbeque recipe. “That’s your decision, but I think you should do something.”

She hopped
to her feet in one easy motion. “Not everyone likes school as much as you do, Chloe.”

“I know that, but I want you to have every opportunity. You have so much potential…” I stopped myself from going on.
I sounded like a graduation card. “What about culinary school?”

She glanced back at the
blank TV screen. “Maybe…” She trailed off.

I would take a maybe for now, but our conversation wasn’t over.
“You’re sure you will be okay here by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I removed Gig from my shoulder and stood. “Just promise me that you will read the applications?”

“I’ll read them if you promise me you’ll
be careful around those bus people.”

I picked up my suitcase.
“Done.”

Chapter Fourteen

As I parked my Beetle in the small lot next to the Dutch Inn, my cell phone rang. The readout told me it was Chief Rose.

“Did you find Pearl?” I asked.

“That’s why I’m calling,” the police chief said in her gruff way. “We tracked her down with her credit card. She checked into a chain hotel in Mount Vernon. Nottingham is over there now talking to her.”

My shoulders sagged in relief. “Is she okay
?”

“Nottingham
said she appeared fine.”

“Is she coming back to the Dutch
Inn?”

“I haven’t heard a verdict about that yet from my officer.”

I rolled up my car’s windows. “I’m relieved you found her.”

“I am too,” she said. “I
’ve got to go, Humphrey.”

“Wait! I was just at the Troyer farm. Officer Riley was there collecting plant samples.”

“I know,” she said.

“What were they for?” I asked.

“The crime lab needs to test them.” She sounded as if she didn’t want to say more.

“You think one of those plants killed Ruby and Dudley.”

“That’s for Doc to determine.” Her voice had an edge to it. “What time are you back on tour duty tomorrow?”

“I’m still on it,” I said and explained
I was staying at the Dutch Inn.

The chief
chortled. “Sounds like you’re in over your head, Humphrey.”

“Whose fault is that?”

Her laughter rang in my ear long after she hung up.

The only other vehicle in the parking lot was the tour bus. Perhaps no other tourist
s were staying at the inn. That would mean the two voices I overheard earlier that afternoon had to be from the bus.

I carried my suitc
ase across the cobblestone walkway leading from the parking lot to the front door of the inn. It was close to seven and my stomach rumbled. I should have eaten something before I left home. Dinner would be long over for the tour guests by now, but I hoped the dining room remained open.

Jane
folded a copy of the Amish newspaper,
The Budget,
on the countertop. “I see you’re back. Ready to check in?”

Cheetos, who was on the counter
, lazily batted at the edge of the newspaper.

“Did
Hudson tell you I was coming back?”

“He did. He also told me the tou
r company would pay for your stay, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

That came as a relief because I
hadn’t thought to ask Hudson about who was paying for my room while he had been yelling at me on the phone.

The front door opened, and Timothy
entered, carrying a backpack as his only luggage. What a typical guy. Jane’s smile widened when he stepped in. “It is
gut
to see you Timothy Troyer. I have heard your business is doing well. You did a
gut
job on the Young’s flea market. Everyone in the district is quite pleased it will be open all year round.”

“It’s nice to see you again too. How are your children?
” Timothy said, giving her his thousand watt smile.

“
Gut
. Both teenagers now working here at the inn. What can I help you with?”

He set his backpack on the floor.
“I’d like to check in too.”

“To stay wit
h Chloe?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

There was that blush again. “No. He needs his own room
,” I said.

Her hands fluttered to
her ledger. “
Ya, ya,
I wasn’t thinking anything differently. I do have two vacant rooms.” She frowned. “How will you be paying for the room? The tour company said they would only pay for your room, Chloe.”

“How much is it a night?” Timothy asked.

“One fifty. It includes meal in the dining room, so it’s quite a bargain.”

I touched Timothy’s arm. “
That’s too expensive,” I said under my breath. “Maybe you should forget this idea. Go home. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m staying.” Timothy’s jaw was set.

“I have an idea,” Jane said. “I have several odd jobs that need to be done around the inn, from fixing doors to mending furniture. If you do those, I will let you stay here for free.”

I opened my mouth to object. Timothy had more contracting work than he knew what to do with. He didn’t need to be tied down
with a bunch of little jobs at the inn. “He—”

“That sounds fair,” Timothy said.

“Excellent.” She grinned and turned, removing two keys from the pegboard.

I frowned at Timothy.

He squeezed my hand and whispered as if he could read my mind, “Don’t worry. I can do it.”

Jane
turned back around and handed us both a key. I examined mine. Twenty-eight. “I put you on different floors. Timothy, I put you in room number three. It’s one of our best rooms and the closest to the front desk.”

Timothy thanked her
.

“Is the dining room still open?” I asked.

“It’s open until eight. Tonight, the cook made shepherd’s pie. We have a set meal for every day. You can see the planned meals for the week on a chalkboard in the dining room. I believe the tour group is still in the dining room.”

“Let’s drop off our bags and meet in the dining room,” Timothy said.

Instead of taking the elevator, I ran up the staircase to the second floor. The hall was quiet and dim as the sun set outside. The buggy-patterned carpet muffled my footsteps.

I peered out the large picture window at the end of the hallway
, which overlooked the parking lot, before unlocking my door. Below, I thought I saw movement in the shadow of one of the lilac bushes at the edge of the lot but then nothing. After dinner, I would take a look around the grounds. The sun would be up for at least another hour.

In room number twenty-eight,
I dropped my suitcase and purse in the middle of one of the twin beds. As I was on the second floor, I had a balcony instead of a patio at the back of my room. I opened the French doors and scanned the gardens for the shadow. Seeing nothing, I went back into the room and tucked my cell phone and room key into the pockets of my jeans.

Laughter guided
me through the lounge to the dining room. Tour guests sat at three of the four large round tables. Hudson sat at the fourth table alone. Half-eaten wedges of Amish pie sat in front of each person.

“Chloe, sit with us,” Gertie crowed. She was at a table with Melinda and
, by process of elimination, with whom I believed to be Duke and Doris, the couple who Becky met at Young’s. There was one empty seat at their table. I noticed Earl Kepler sat at a table with Fred, Nadine, Bitty, and Charles. They seemed to be having a grand time discussing the state of affairs in Washington. LeeAnne, Raellen, Jimbo, and Bobbi Jo sat at the third table. The three women discussed the Amish quilting patterns, and Jimbo looked like he wanted to stick a fork in his eye.

I felt a hand on my back.
“You go and sit with them,” Timothy said. “I want to talk to Hudson.”

I gave him a
n anxious look.

“
There’s nothing to be worried about,” he said.

I wasn’t so sure about that.

Gertie poked Melinda in the side with her index finger. “You move down one. I want to sit next to Chloe. She can tell us all about the Amish.”

“I can sit here,” I said, pulling out the chair across from Gertie and next to Duke Kite. “Please don’t move, Melinda.”

“It’s fine,” Melinda said curtly. She stood and circled to the other side of the table.

Gertie patted Melinda’s empty seat. “See, Melinda doesn’t mind at all. Sit here next to me.”

Embarrassed, I moved to the other side of the table. The vantage point gave me a clear view of Timothy and Hudson. The bus driver didn’t seem to be too pleased with the conversation. Occasionally, he grunted at Timothy between bites of Dutch Apple pie.

Ivy
came to the table with a glass of water for me. “Would you like dessert too?”

“No thank you. Do you have an
y shepherd’s pie left?”

“We do.” She removed her
notepad from her apron pocket. “It comes with soup or salad. Which would you like?”

“Just the pie will be fine.”

“That will be right out.”

I thanked her and sipped my water.

Ivy crossed the room to get Timothy’s order.

Gertie
wiggled back in forth in her seat. “Who is the hunk?”

I nearly spit out
a mouthful of water. Melinda handed me a napkin. I gave her a grateful smile. “The hunk?”

“Why yes. Don’t play coy with us. I
can see how he looks at you. If a young man watched me like that, I’d never leave his side.”

Duke chuckle
d. “Gertie, I didn’t know you were a cougar.”

More water threatened to choke me. I set the glass down. I wasn’t thirsty anyway
.

Doris
chuckled as she forked a bit piece of apple. “And how did he look at her?”

Gertie’s lips curled upwards.
“Like she was the last cupcake on the planet.”

Thank
fully, I had given up drinking water. Hydration was overrated.

.

Chapter
Fifteen

Gertie tapped her fork on the side of her dish. “If I were sixty years younger, I’d be giving you a run for your money. How does hunk-o-lovin’ feel about older women?”

“I don’t know,” I squeaked. I couldn’t wait to share this conversation with Tanisha
. She’d be rolling on the floor by this point. “I’m three years younger than he is.”