Murder, Simply Stitched: An Amish Quilt Shop Mystery (26 page)

E
ven with the sheriff’s kiss fresh on my lips, I couldn’t change who I was or my curious nature. I knew it would upset him if he knew where I intended to go after the dog park, but I still had to go there.

Oliver and I stared at the yellow crime scene tape blocking the way up the stairs to the CPA’s office above Fannie’s yarn shop. Another bold yellow “X” was plastered across the CPA’s office door. I recognized Deputy Anderson’s handiwork.

I wondered where I could find Wanda’s business partner to talk with him again. Not that I thought that he would tell me much. The Mennonite man hadn’t been that forthcoming in our first meeting. Of course, since it was Sunday there was no chance to talk to him for an entire day.

As much as I itched to climb those stairs and take a peek in the office, I knew I would regret it if I got caught, especially by the sheriff.

“Come on, Oliver,” I said.

The Frenchie waddled at a slow pace behind me. He was still worn out from his adventure at the dog park with Tux.

“You want to go home and take a nap, don’t you, boy?”

That got him waddling a bit faster.

When we stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of Fannie’s store, I was struck by how abandoned the street was. Sundays in Holmes County were the quietest days, but it still felt eerie nonetheless. All Amish and Mennonite businesses were closed and many of the English ones were as well.

Whoever broke into Wanda and David’s office was after papers. That reminded me of another set of papers. When I had heard Zeke King argue with Gideon the day before about the sick calf, he had wanted to see the papers about the animal he bought at the auction. Would an Amish auction have such records? They wouldn’t have veterinary records, but I remember Linus and his dozens of clipboards so maybe there was something he had written down about that calf. Was it related to Wanda’s death?

I realized that the auction grounds would be as deserted today as Sugartree Street was. I twisted my mouth as I thought. Should I go there for one last look around?

•   •   •

Oliver huffed as he landed in the grass parking area of the auction grounds. He looked up at me with his expressive bully face.
This is not home. This is not my bed,
his face told me.

“I know, Oliver, and I did promise that we would go home after our last stop, but this is the perfect time to check out Linus’s office. I promise we won’t break and enter. If it happens to be unlocked that’s a different story.”

As I walked across the grass to the outbuilding beyond the main barn a chill ran up my back. I shouldn’t be here. This was a very bad idea, and no one knew where I was. I couldn’t call the quilting circle and tell them. They were all Amish and were unreachable by cell phone and even unreachable by shed phone on Sunday. I slipped my cell out of my pocket and called Jessica, who I realized was, other than the sheriff—not that I knew how to categorize him yet—my only English friend in Holmes County.

“Out of Time,” Jessica answered.

“Hi Jessica, it’s Angie.”

“Angie, what’s up?” There was laughter in her voice.

“Well, I’m at the auction grounds.”

“What are you doing there?” The laughter was gone.

“I’m taking a look around. I really feel like this place is the root of Wanda’s murder, not just because she died here.” I lowered my voice on the off chance anyone was around. “I think she was killed because of something going on here.”

“So what are you doing there?” she yelled. I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “It doesn’t sound like it’s safe to be there.”

“That’s why I’m calling you. I wanted to let someone know where I was.”

“Angie, I think you should leave. Do you want me to come out there?”

My heart warmed at her offer. “No, I’ll call you back in twenty minutes. If you don’t hear from me call the sheriff.”

“Are you serious?” she squeaked.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

“Okay,” Jessica said, but worry laced her voice. “Twenty minutes. Your time starts right now.”

I hung up and stuck the phone into the pocket of my jacket. As I did that the main barn door opened. I froze, ready to make a run for it until Petunia waltzed out.

“Baaa!”

Oliver trotted over. Some, but not all, of his fatigue was forgotten as he went to greet his friend.

“Let’s make this quick,” I told the animals. “Jessica is counting down.”

My cell phone rang, and I answered it. “Jessica, it hasn’t even been close to twenty minutes yet. I told you, I would call you back in twenty minutes.”

“This isn’t Jessica,” the sheriff’s voice said in my ear.

“Oh, hi,” I managed. I should check the phone’s readout before answering.

“We got a match off of the print from the break-in at Wanda’s office.”

“And?”

“It’s Gabe Keim.”

“The Gabe from the auction.”

“That’s right.”

“How did you have one of Gabe’s prints to match it to?”

“We printed everyone who worked at the auction yard after Wanda’s murder, so that we could exclude them from her case if need be.”

“I knew her death had to involve someone from the auction house. I’m having a tough time believing it is Gabe though. Maybe he was told to toss the accounting office,” I mused.

“Where are you?” His voice was suddenly sharp.

“Umm . . . where do you think I am?”

“Not at home. I just swung by your house to tell you in person.” He sighed. “Don’t tell me you are at the auction grounds.”

“It’s Sunday and no one is here.”

“What does Jessica have to do with this?”

“I told her to call you if she didn’t hear from me in twenty minutes. Well, now I guess it would be fifteen.”

The sheriff was silent for a moment. “I’m already on my way there. Go back to your car and sit tight until I arrive.”

“But—”

“Angie, please.”

“Okay,” I finally agreed. I knew I was being foolish, and he was right. I dropped the phone back into my pocket.

Petunia and Oliver waited for me a few yards ahead, right in front of Linus’s office.

I clapped my hands. “Oliver, come, we’re going back to the car until Mitchell shows up.”

The Frenchie rolled onto his back in the grass.

I pulled out my cell phone again and called Jessica. “Stand down. Sheriff Mitchell knows where I am and he’s on his way here.”

“I’m so glad. I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “As long as you are okay, it’s okay. Call me later.”

I promised I would and hung up.

“Oliver, we are leaving.”

Still he wouldn’t obey. Instead he looked at me with droopy eyes. The dog run with Tux that morning really had worn the pooch out.

I sighed and walked toward the duo.

“Baaa!”
Petunia cried as I approached. She grabbed the piece of rope, which served as a makeshift door handle and pulled. The door swung easily open.

“Petunia,” I complained. “The sheriff is going to blame me for that.”

She looked as innocent as a goat could look, which wasn’t saying much.

I peered into the tiny one-room building. The stack of clipboards was on top of the desk, but they were all bare. The graph paper that Linus clipped on them the day before was gone.

“I’m not going in,” I told the goat and dog. “We’re going back to the car just like the sheriff told us to.”

“What are you doing?” someone asked from behind me. I turned to find Gabe and Zeph standing just a few feet away from me.

Oliver scrambled to his feet and trotted to my side. Of course, he obeyed me now.

“H
i, guys,” I said in my most cheerful voice. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at church?”

“We left early,” Zeph said. “Church is boring.”

Gabe nodded.

I scooped up Oliver. “That’s too bad.” I turned to go. “I’ll see you later.”

“Were you in Linus’s office?” Gabe asked.

I paused and half turned to face them. “No, I wasn’t. Petunia pulled the door open.”

When all else fails blame the goat.

“You shouldn’t poke in other people’s offices,” Gabe said.

“You would know about how important it is not to go into another person’s office, wouldn’t you, Gabe?”

There goes my big mouth again.

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

I ignored his question. “Nothing. You guys have a nice afternoon, okay?”

Gabe ran in front of me. “What do you mean about the office?”

I pressed Oliver to my chest. I reminded myself that the Amish were nonviolent and that Gabe was only fifteen years old, although he did outweigh me by a good twenty pounds. I shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

Zeph stood next to his friend. “Gabe, I think she knows about Wanda’s office.”

His friend shoved him. “Now she does. You just told her.”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I have no idea what you are talking—”

My denial was cut off as the sheriff’s SUV careened into the grass parking lot. He didn’t stop there and drove right for us with lights flashing. The boys took off in opposite directions. Mitchell and Anderson spilled out of the SUV. Each one took off after a boy. The sheriff could run. I wondered if he had been on the track team when he was in high school.

Mitchell lunged for Gabe’s knees and took him down. They fell in a heap. I placed Oliver on the ground and ran over to them as Anderson disappeared around the side of the auction barn in pursuit of Zeph.

Mitchell pulled Gabe to his feet, told him he was under arrest for breaking and entering, and read him his Miranda rights.

Then he asked, “Why did you break into Wanda’s office?”

“I—I didn’t.”

“Come on Gabe. Your fingerprints are all over that place, and I know you weren’t there for tax help,” I said.

Gabe’s bottom lip quivered. He was just a big scared kid who was in a whole lot deeper than he could handle. “I don’t have to answer that without a lawyer,” Gabe said.

“That is your right,” the sheriff conceded.

“If you tell the sheriff what you were doing there,” I said, “he might give you a break.”

Mitchell pursed his lips. “I can ask for leniency from the court if it helps the case.”

Gabe licked his lips. “Linus asked me and Zeph to do it. He said he would pay us.”

“He asked you to trash Wanda’s office?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Is that all?” Mitchell wanted to know.

The teenager brushed a blade of grass from his face. “He wanted us to look for any papers about the auction. We were to bring them directly to him.”

“Did you find anything?”

He shook his head.

“Where’s Linus now?” the sheriff asked.

“I don’t know. He took off. He was supposed to meet us here today to pay us for messing up that lady’s office, but he never showed.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Zeph said he must have taken off.”

The arguments Zeke King had with both Gideon and Linus came back to me.
Had they purposely sold the sick calf to him? Had they done it before?
“Does this have anything to do with the injured and sick animals sold at the auction?” I asked.

Mitchell’s aquamarine eyes slid my way, but he didn’t stop me from asking my questions.

Gabe’s eyes widened. “I—I don’t know anything about that.”

“Come on Gabe, you were doing so well,” I said.

“I don’t want to go to jail.”

“If you talk,” the sheriff said, “we can try to avoid that.”

Gabe fidgeted. “Sometimes Linus made us hide that an animal was sick during the auction to make sure the animal would sell for a
gut
price.”

“How?” Mitchell asked.

“We had to make sure the animals were clean. If they had a mark, we had to keep it out of sight. If an animal had trouble walking, we would put another healthy animal on the block, but when it was time to pick up the animals we would give them the ill one.”

“How often did this happen?” Mitchell’s voice was sharp.

“Once or twice every other auction. Linus was careful that we didn’t overdo it.”

“Did the farmer selling the lame or ill animal know?”

Gabe nodded. “
Ya.
He would give a percentage of the sale to Linus. He still made money because another auction house wouldn’t accept the animal. This was the only way he was going to sell it.”

“Did Linus involve you from the beginning?” I asked.

He licked his lips. “
Nee,
but I got to wondering about it when my cousin had a cow die from a stomach parasite two months after he brought her home from the auction. He said the vet told him that the cow must have been ill when it was on the auction block.” He swallowed. “And a neighbor brought home a chicken with fleas. They infected his entire flock. Three of his chickens died. I asked Linus about it, and he told Zeph and me. He said he would cut us in if we helped.”

“What about Reed?” I asked.

“The stupid
Englischer
didn’t have a clue about it,” he scoffed.

I narrowed my eyes. “If the auction house auctioned off sick or injured animals, that’s unethical.”

Gabe shrugged. “If the farmer is dumb enough to buy the animal, it is his fault.”

“Taking kickbacks is illegal,” Mitchell said.

The Amish boy’s brow wrinkled. “What are kickbacks?”

I folded my arms. “The money that Linus received and shared with you to hide the animals’ flaws.”

“Zeph and I knew it wasn’t a nice thing to do, but we never thought it was against the law. We would not have done it if we did.”

“What about Wanda? How did she find out?”

Gabe licked his lips again. “Sh-she didn’t know.”

“Don’t start lying now,” I ordered. “She knew, blackmailed Linus to keep his secret, and died because of it.”

Gabe shook his head like a child trying to chase away a frightening dream. “Linus said he didn’t kill her. He promised us.”

“Then, where is he?” the sheriff asked. “Why else would he have run?”

Gabe didn’t have an answer for that.

The Nissleys drove up their driveway in a buggy. Gideon threw his wife the reins and marched toward us.

I had no idea what became of Anderson and Zeph. They could have run all the way to Berlin by this point.

“What’s going on here? How dare you be on my property like this, and on the Lord’s Day.”

Mitchell quickly explained what was going on. “Did you know about Linus’s side business?”

“Nee, nee.”
The plump Amish man insisted. “I did not know. I would never allow that.”

Tabitha calmly tied the horse to a sapling and walked toward us in time to hear her husband’s denial.

I wasn’t buying Gideon’s story. “I heard you in your kitchen with an Amish man, who was complaining about an injured calf he bought here at the auction.”

“Yes, that happened, but we would not knowingly sell a sick or injured animal.”

The sheriff gave him a level stare. “I’m going to have to search your property for evidence about this.”

“You can’t do that without a warrant.”

“I will get a warrant then.”

Beads of sweat appeared on Gideon’s forehead. “If Linus has done something wrong, I am sorry to hear that, but I did not know.”

How many times had that happened and the swindled Amish man hadn’t complained because that was not the Amish way?

A panting and muddy Deputy Anderson brought an even muddier Zeph around the side of the barn. “I caught him, Sheriff.”

“Well done, Anderson,” the sheriff said. Under his breath he whispered, “I think Anderson needs to work on his sprints.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I agreed.