Material Witness (34 page)

“Ouch! Why did you do that?”

“Amish. No pictures. You know the drill.”

“Oh. That. I’m doing a follow-up story on Thomas, and the destruction of Levi’s barn is another charge Thomas will have to answer for.”

“Nope. Levi isn’t pressing charges.” Shane pulled down on his Cubs cap.

“I’m not surprised,” Deborah said. “He always held out hope for his
bruder
— hope that he would return to the plain ways, that he would come home.”

She returned Joshua’s hug as he ran up and threw himself around her legs. Then he was off again, running after the older children. “Is Levi still in Fort Wayne?”

“He is. After all Thomas did — the murders, blowing up his barn, trying to take all the money … Well, Levi said we all have regrets. He wouldn’t leave until Adalyn did.” Shane shrugged. “He should be here any minute. Visiting hours end early on Saturdays.”

The image of Levi ministering to his brother sank in around them as the sound of hammers nailing boards filled the air.

Finally Trent asked the question that had occurred to Melinda more than once. “What about the money?”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“I know, it’s a crazy thing to ask, but what about the money Thomas was after? Or was that something he made up? Was there a treasure?”

Esther, Melinda, and Deborah shared a look — a look that Callie pounced on.

“What is it? Did you figure out the last piece of the puzzle?”

“Why would you say that?” Melinda murmured, moving to the tables and straightening the long line of dishes.

“Oh, I’ve seen that unspoken language thing between you before. Shane, interrogate them. Make them tell us.”

Shane laughed and pulled her closer. “Can’t we eat dinner first? I’m starved.”

They did eat dinner first. Levi arrived and sat with his wife, Sadie, at the middle of the table. After the meal, men gathered up their tools and promised Levi they would return on Monday to finish the barn. Women picked up their dishes and pulled Sadie into a hug. The words
danki
and
gern gschehne
were passed back and forth dozens of times, like a blanket of blessings wrapped around a family of friends.

By then evening had fallen.

And all who remained were Sadie, Levi, and a few of their grandchildren, who were upstairs preparing for bed. Melinda had heard the children ask their parents for permission to spend the night with their grandparents. It was a conversation repeated in many Amish homes on Saturday evenings.

Downstairs, Melinda, Esther, and Deborah sat on one side of the table — their own children taken home by their husbands. Gavin and Shane sat on the other with Callie between them. Max waited outside on the porch, curled contentedly near the door.

Sadie and Levi sat beside each other at the end of the table, looking tired and confused.

Melinda wondered if they should have waited, but the three women had agreed this was best. They had agreed the quilts’ story would be revealed this evening.

“We know you’re all tired,” Melinda began. “But the three of us —”

She looked to her right, to Deborah, who smiled encouragement, then to her left, to Esther, who reached for her hand and squeezed it tight.

“We felt it was best if we shared what we know tonight. We have all prayed about it, and we agreed that another evening shouldn’t pass with this secret in our possession, since rightfully it is yours. If you would like other members of your family to be present —”

“No. They’ve been through enough.” Levi looked tired, ready to be done with whatever they had to say. “I spoke to them again today, and they all agreed it would be best if I handled this matter for the family.”

Melinda caressed the quilt she was holding, the quilt that had been lovingly stitched so many years ago and had eventually led to such tragedy.

Sensing the direction of her thoughts, Deborah spoke up. “We asked Shane, Gavin, and Callie to be here because they have sacrificed much in the past few weeks to keep us all safe. Of course, if you’d rather this be a private matter, I’m sure they would understand.”

Levi shook his head. “We owe everyone in this room, Deborah.” He clutched his hands around the coffee mug. “I’ve spoken with Shane about this, but the way I see it, he could easily have killed Thomas a week ago by the pond.”

Putting his hand into his pants pocket, he jingled his change, then continued. “The night you two came here and showed me Thomas’ picture, asked me if I knew him, I told you I did not. You might think I lied to you, but I didn’t. The man in that picture — he wasn’t my
bruder
. He’s nothing like the boy I grew up with. I saw the resemblance, but I couldn’t believe — didn’t want to believe it was him.”

Clearing his throat, he pushed on. “Because you didn’t kill him when he was threatening Callie, because of that, I will have time
to try to win my
bruder
’s heart. Time to pray for him and time to minister. We owe you a tremendous debt, Shane. Andrew and Callie as well. Whatever you have to say, I welcome hearing it.”

“Gavin was injured by Thomas, as was Callie.” Sadie was not one given to emotion, but she accepted the handkerchief her husband handed her. “It is as it should be, with everyone here welcome.”

Melinda looked at Esther. They had agreed Esther should begin with the telling of what they’d stayed this evening to share. “When I first noticed the unusual stitching of your
mamm
’s quilt, I took it to Melinda. Together we were able to figure out that the borders were German script and Amish proverbs.”

“
Ya
, it’s very unusual.” Sadie shook her head. “Levi’s
mamm
was known to be eccentric.”

“We believe it was more than that.” Melinda picked up the story. “The design of these quilts is also unusual. Elizabeth sewed many quilts in her life — beautiful quilts for her children and grandchildren. Quilts for charity auctions and for weddings. They were all done in the traditional Amish patterns.”

“But these aren’t,” Sadie said.

“Correct. These three, which were left to us in the will, were done differently,” Melinda said.

“They resemble storybook quilts,” Callie said softly. It was the first time she had spoken. “I’ve had time to research them more thoroughly since the afternoon at the pond, since Thomas’ arrest. Traditionally they were used to convey a secret, something the quilter wanted passed on to others but didn’t want known openly …”

Silence settled around the room as Sadie and Levi considered the idea. Melinda could see them struggle with the concept their mother would hide something from them. “Perhaps she had a good reason for not wanting to write it on a piece of paper. Maybe it could have fallen into the wrong hands.”

“Like Thomas’.” Levi’s frown was growing more pronounced, his forehead wrinkling as he tried to follow their reasoning.

“Like Thomas, but not Thomas.” Melinda adjusted the strings of her prayer
kapp
. “Remember these quilts were probably stitched before Thomas was born. Perhaps there was someone else she didn’t trust in the family, or it could have been that she was paranoid about robbers or banks —”

“You’re talking about a hidden treasure.” Gavin sat forward, placed his palms against the table.

“Yes.” Deborah looked across at the young man who had become a friend to so many within their community. “The quilts tell the story of a treasure that is hidden, kept for safekeeping here on the homestead.”

“You can’t be serious.” Levi stood, walked to the coffeepot, and refilled his mug.

“Actually we’re very serious.” Esther spoke quietly, firmly. “No doubt Thomas knew about it. I don’t know how. Perhaps he heard your mother mention it at some point. Maybe he overheard a conversation, but these quilts definitely tell about a treasure that is hidden, and they describe an exact location.”

“I don’t believe it.” Levi set his mug on the counter a bit harder than necessary, its contents sloshing over the side. “
Mamm
left plenty in the bank to run the farm. And she wasn’t greedy with what she left in the will. What more could there have been? Why would she do such a thing? How would she do such a thing all those years ago?”

Shane stretched his arm across the back of Callie’s chair. “While we were staying at Reuben’s the girls shared with me what they thought they knew, and I can’t say whether it’s valid or not. Obviously they’ve made more progress since then. What do you know about your grandparents? Or your great-grandparents?”

Levi ran his fingers through his beard. “Not much. My folks came from Pennsylvania to start over. Their parents didn’t come
west, but planned on joining them once they were settled. Never had the chance. They died from influenza.”

Gavin scratched at the day’s growth of beard on his jaw. “You say there’s a map on those quilts?”

“Yes.” Deborah glanced down at the quilt she held. “There’s a key of sorts. Once you learn the key, it’s quite easy to read.”

Gavin shrugged. “So read it to us.”

E
STHER’S MIND WENT BACK
to the day she’d driven to Melinda’s, the day she’d first placed her quilt beside Melinda’s and discovered the edges matched. It was like the parable in the Bible, where the woman had swept her house many times to find the lost coin.

But no one had been searching for these pieces.

No one had realized anything was lost.

Still, now the pieces were found.

As they all knelt around the three quilts that were laid out on the floor carefully lined up together, she wondered what else would be revealed this evening.

Melinda pointed to the first square, to the delicate stitching, and began to tell the story. Her hands moved over the panels of the quilts as she spoke.

“Elizabeth and Adam married in 1938.” She pointed to the small dates stitched into the corner of the block, below the double wedding-ring square. “After their first year of marriage, they moved west with a small group of Amish from the Pennsylvania community.”

Melinda’s hands hesitated over a square depicting an Amish woman in a prayer
kapp
— no face was stitched, much like the
Amish dolls she sewed for Hannah. The woman on the quilt pattern was boarding a bus.

“
Ya
, that’s right,” Sadie whispered. “I remember her telling me once about the trip. It took two days, and then their things hadn’t arrived yet as they were supposed to. However, there was an Amish community here already. The community took them in and allowed them to stay in their houses until their belongings arrived.”

“No real secrets yet,” Levi muttered.

Melinda continued. “The land was
gut
here.
Gotte
blessed them with fertile fields,
gut
harvests, and their first
boppli
boy.”

“Me?” Levi asked.

“No.” Melinda’s voice fell to a whisper. “The year was 1940.”

Her fingers once again traced delicate stitches that were the same color as the cloth they adorned. Finally she tapped another date stitched into the fabric. “This child lived less than one year.”

Esther could practically read her
freinden
’s thoughts. Was that why Elizabeth had always had a soft spot in her heart for Aaron? Did she understand the pain of worrying over a sick child?

“Would explain the box of infant clothing I found once,” Sadie said.

Melinda moved to the top of the quilt again. “Five rows in all — the first describes their marriage and trip. The second, the trials that accompanied their move. The third, the help they received from their new community. The fourth the blessings of the land. And the fifth the birth and death of their first child.”

When Melinda finished speaking, Esther took up the story, moving on to the second quilt. “Trials found Elizabeth and Adam, even in Shipshewana. News arrived that Adam’s parents …” she hesitated, looked at Levi instead of at the quilt squares. “Your grandparents died suddenly.”

“Of the influenza,” Levi whispered.

“The year was 1941. Though there was death, there were also gifts. Your parents’ many blessings were …” Esther looked to
Deborah, who shrugged. They’d made it to the middle of the second quilt, the panel Deborah and Callie had been looking at the day Thomas had ambushed them. The quilted square obviously depicted water — blue material with blue stitching, so Callie had been able to convince him the money was hidden at the pond. “Your parents’ many blessings were —”

“Showered,” suggested Deborah.

“
Ya
. The blessings were showered on them, but then a relative arrived.” She pointed to the next panel where a dark figure was stitched against a cloudy sky. “This person was bent on destroying all they had.”

Levi stood now, running his thumbs under his suspenders. “I suspect that would be referring to my
onkel
— my
dat
’s only
bruder
. He would appear every year or so when I was young.”

Accepting his handkerchief back from his wife, Levi wiped at the perspiration beading on his forehead, which appeared despite the growing coolness of the evening. No one had thought to add wood to the fire in the stove in the corner of the room. Esther thought of asking Shane to attend to it, but they were nearing the end now, and the end would take them back outside.

“I thought it odd that he never stayed.” Levi was talking to them, but it was obvious his mind was back in that other time. “He never came into the house, never stayed long enough to share a meal.”

He walked to the counter, took a sip of his coffee, now cold. “When I was a teenager, my
dat
hired a driver. He was gone for nearly a week. It’s the one time I remember him leaving the farm for more than a day. He returned with my
onkel
in a wooden coffin. We had a proper Amish burial, here in our district, but I never learned anything about him.”

“The bottom panel of this quilt indicates there was a time of peace and prosperity.” Esther looked to Deborah, who turned to the third and final quilt.

“This quilt describes blessings from the hand of God.” She
drew their attention to each of the squares. “Family, faith, crops, rain,
freinden
, health. All the things for which we are grateful are sewn into the panels on this quilt. Each panel has an appliqued picture and two other things —”