Nick found me out there a while later, still petting Wendy’s calf.
He leaned over the fence and scratched her ears. “She have a name yet?”
“Tinkerbell or Perdita.”
“From
101 Dalmatians
?”
“How did you know that?”
He smiled. “I always liked that movie.”
“Nick—”
“Willard called.”
“What? What did he say?”
“He wants you to call him.”
“He wouldn’t tell you what he found?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “He only trusts you.”
“Yeah. Whatever. You’re off-line, I take it? I can use my phone?”
“I’m off.”
We walked back to the house together.
“Stella?”
“Yeah?”
“Were you going to say something back there?”
I took a few more steps. “No. Nothing that can’t wait.”
I’m not sure he believed me. But then, of course, he was right not to.
Gladys put me right through to Willard.
“Stella, can you come in to the office?”
“Why?”
“Because I was a knucklehead.”
“Oh, Willard, what did you do?”
“I forgot we need your fingerprints. We’ve got a ton on this shovel, and a set of them is probably yours, right?”
I groaned. “Probably most of them. Although I did wear gloves when I was using it.”
“How about anybody else at the farm?”
“Well, Lucy uses it, and Zach— But I wiped it off before using it the other day. It was pretty well covered with manure and I figured the Hershbergers wouldn’t want that in their mulch.”
“So that limits the prints to whoever else handled it since then, including you. That helps. Dan’s wondering if you can come this morning.”
“Dan?”
“Officer Meadows.”
Oh, great. “I’ll come right now.”
“Super. Thanks.”
“Hey, Willard?”
“Yeah?”
“You are going to be there, right?”
“Yes. I will even hold your hand, if you want. The one not being fingerprinted, that is.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Okay. See you in a few.”
I hung up and told Nick.
“Want me to come along?”
I looked from him to his computer. “You don’t need to. Willard says he’ll hold my hand.”
Nick didn’t look so sure about that, but as Willard is a happily married man, and there would be others present—cops, even—he relented.
Not that he was really worried.
Queenie came along for the ride, and happily rubbed her nose on the window while we drove into town. I found a shaded parking spot across from the police department and left the windows partly rolled down, telling Queenie I’d only be a few minutes. She lay down on the seat with a huff, apparently wondering why I’d brought her along if I was just going to leave her in the car. She should’ve been used to it by then.
An officer I didn’t know buzzed me in, and I clumped toward Willard’s office. He met me at his door.
“Heard you coming.”
“I know.”
“Like a herd of elephants.”
“Where do I go, Willard?”
“Crabby elephants.”
“Willard…”
“Over here.”
Officer Meadows—
Dan
—was at a desk in the back room, and looked up when we entered. I tried not to recoil against Willard, but since he had to nudge me in the back, I guess I wasn’t entirely successful.
“Over here.” Meadows stood stiffly and went to a waist-high counter, where he’d laid out a fingerprint card next to an ink blotter. “Ready?”
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized he would have to touch me to get my fingerprints. I hesitated.
His shoulders slumped, and his jaw unclenched. “Come on, Ms. Crown. Stella. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Willard gave me one last push, and I was at the counter.
“Right hand, please.”
Meadows rolled each of my fingers, my palm, and then all four fingers together. It took about three minutes. “You gonna take my mug shot, too?”
His eyes flicked up to mine, and when he saw I was joking, he gave a little smile. “Not today. Unless you have something to confess.”
When I declined he led me to a sink, where I scrubbed my hands with a special soap that had gritty little pieces in it. It got rid of every speck of ink. If I had soap like that at the farm I’d always be clean—but it would take all my skin off after a few days.
“How soon do you think you’ll have something?”
Meadows let out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of prints on here. It could take a while. How many people handled the shovel?”
“David Stoltzfus. And his brother-in-law, Alan. And Alan’s son. Trevor.” An image of Trevor, sullen, quiet, athletic under his baggy teenager clothes flitted into my mind. He went to the gym with David. Had his uncle gotten him on steroids? Was he another guy ready to explode?
Meadows was talking to me.
“Sorry. What?”
He stopped and began again. “So we’re talking about at least three people other than you.”
I looked at him. “For what?”
“
The shovel
. Fingerprints.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
He looked at Willard. “I’ll check them all. If there’s a hit we’ll need to get them each in here.”
I looked at the clock. Way after breakfast. “David’s probably gone.”
“Gone?”
“Back to Lancaster.”
Willard cleared his throat. “We can at least bring the others in to eliminate them.”
Meadows nodded. “That will have to work for now. If we get a match.”
I liked what I saw in Meadows’ face. He actually cared. “Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.”
We stood, looking awkwardly at each other, until I turned to Willard, who was smirking at me.
“Guess that’s it, Willard.”
He held out a hand to have me go first down the hallway. “See? I told you you could play well together if you tried.”
“Whatever.”
“Have a minute to stop in?”
“Sure.”
When we were both seated and he’d picked up his pencil, he said, “So tell me how David Stoltzfus is connected to all of the women.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, Carla’s easy. He got to know her when she came to the Hershbergers’ the day they moved. Trevor had stepped on their dog, and Carla was on call. Katherine, well, that’s obvious. And he always goes for a run before the commuters are even out. It would’ve been easy for him to trash her office.”
“Do you know about Sunday? When Carla was attacked?”
“You mean does he have an alibi? I have no idea. I do know Katherine and Alan went to church, along with David’s daughter, Sarah. But I don’t think David did. Or Tricia.” I remembered the dinner at Ma’s, Katherine flicking a look at her sister when they talked about attending church. I’d interpreted that as a little rebuke for not going with her.
“Okay. Go on.”
“Dr. Peterson was on a list of doctors recommended to the Hershbergers by church people. And Babs is a trainer at Club Atlas, where he’s been going to work out.”
“And the trucking company?”
I had to think. Was there a connection? Yes. “He was at my place the day Patty came with Iris. Ma had brought him and the family to see the farm.”
He nodded, and actually used his pencil to write something down. When he was done, he looked up. “You really think he was at your place to cause trouble this morning?”
“Why else? It’s not like we’re friends. And he’d already seen the place. He acted all funny when he got there, like he was looking for other people, but Queenie held him off. And then Nick came out.”
“Well, I have to say it does make sense.”
“Yeah.”
“So we’ll see.” He studied me. “Something bothered you in there. You completely left us for a minute while Dan was trying to talk to you.”
I took a breath. “It’s the teenage son. I think David might have gotten him on steroids, too.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“David took him to the gym. Keeps saying what an athlete Trevor is. And Trevor’s got acne.”
“Like the majority of teenagers.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“But I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Okay.”
“I guess that’s it then.”
“You’ll—”
“Call you as soon as Meadows gets any results. Thanks for coming in. We appreciate it.”
And I was dismissed.
I couldn’t get David and the steroids out of my mind, so I said something I never would’ve imagined coming out of my mouth. “Come on, Queenie. Let’s go to the gym.”
The gym was hopping. Not something I would’ve expected on a late Saturday morning in the summer, but maybe these people were all like Alan and just wanted to exercise somewhere air-conditioned. Since it was so busy I was able to slip past the front desk without being stopped by the two very healthy men in the Club Atlas polo shirts. I thumped my way back to the weight training area and checked out the guys working there.
Two especially caught my eye—one whose upper body looked way out of proportion with his lower body, like Popeye, and one who showed the tell-tale smattering of pimples on his back. He also had some on his face, so I thought him a good bet, since forty-somethings are usually past the acne stage.
I waited to approach him until he was done with his set and was drinking from his water bottle. I limped over and sat beside him on the weight bench.
He glanced at me in the mirror, taking in my cast and tattoos before looking at my face. I tried out a smile. “Could I ask you a quick question?”
He didn’t say anything, but continued to look in the mirror, so I took that as a good sign.
“I’m looking for someone who could get me some help with strength-training and muscle-building. You look like you might know someone. Any chance you could give me a name?”
His water bottle made a sucking sound as he emptied it, and he tossed it to the floor, bouncing it off the wall. “Lots of trainers in this place. They have the red shirts.”
“I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about another kind of help.”
I held my breath as he studied me, and hoped he wasn’t going to pick me up and smack me over the nearest apparatus.
He blinked slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I looked at the floor and rubbed my forehead. “I’m not a cop, man. I’m not working for a cop. I mean, look at me. Do I strike you as someone who would be in with cops?”
He looked at me some more. Not all of his brain functions seemed to be working together, so it took a while.
“A friend of mine has been in here this week,” I said. “Big guy. Fair hair. Came in with his nephew a time or two. He told me I could find help here.”
Now that seemed to register. “Guy from Lancaster?”
I tried not to show my relief. “That’s him. So, can you give me a name?”
His eyes moved in the mirror, and I followed them to a man at the other side of the free weight area. Not huge, like this guy, or like David, but strong.
I nodded. “He’ll help me out?”
The guy grunted. “He helps me. Calls himself Snake.”
“Okay. Thanks, man.”
I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way across the matted area. I hoped his were the only eyes, and not those of the employees, wondering just what I was doing walking around in street clothes in their gym.
Snake saw me coming. He met my eyes when I was halfway across the space and gave his head a little jerk, back toward the locker rooms. I changed course and walked down the hallway, out of sight of the front desk. Snake met me there a minute later, maneuvering so his back was to the wall and he could see out onto the weight floor.
“You want to talk to me?” He wiped his face with a towel, his eyes not meeting mine.
“Yeah. I’m looking for someone who could help me with some—”
“Strength-training?”
“That’s right.”
He nodded. “Saw you and your boyfriend in here the other day. You here for him?”
I blinked. I hadn’t noticed this guy when we were here. I guess my attention was all focused on Nick being sweaty and gorgeous. And then on David and Trevor and the issue of steroids.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s for him.”
Snake eyed me. “He didn’t look like a body builder.”
He was right. “It’s actually not for that, Snake. You see, he’s sick. Has MS. We heard that st… That the things you have might be able to help him.”
He nodded, sucking in his cheeks as he thought. “Doctors won’t prescribe them?”
“You kidding? They have their own kind they give him, and only a set amount. We think more could help him.” I had no idea if I was making any sense, and knew it wouldn’t really work medically, but figured if this guy was selling steroids he didn’t care about people’s health. He just wanted to make a sale. “You were also recommended by another weight lifter who was here that same day. In fact, he gave me the idea.”
His eyes went fuzzy, then focused again. “Oh, the guy from Lancaster.”
That seemed to be the one thing these guys remembered about David.
Snake nodded. “It doesn’t surprise me that he suggested it.”
“Yeah, he’s gotten good results. He’s huge.”
“I don’t mean for body building. I mean for health issues. Didn’t he tell you he was getting them for his wife?”
Fire hit my chest and moved down to my stomach. I tried not to look shaken. “Oh. That’s right. What does she have? I don’t know them that well.”
His face wrinkled up. “Cancer of some kind. I forget what, exactly. Said she got it from something called DES. Don’t know what that is. But docs wouldn’t help them either. So he turned to me.”
Lovely.
Snake glanced down the hallway, then back at me. “I can help you, too.”
“Really? That’s great.” I clenched my teeth together, fighting my cramping stomach. “I’ll tell my boyfriend, and he’ll get in touch with you. Should he just come here?”
“Early morning or late at night is best.”
“Early morning?”
“Before the gym opens. Better make it plenty early, though. The Lancaster guy and I just about got caught last week.”
So I’d been right. It
had
been David. But he hadn’t been here to attack Babs.
“Thanks, Snake. We’ll be in touch.”
“My pleasure.” He gave me a smile, and slipped into the men’s locker room.
I walked down the hallway and out of the gym, ignoring both my burning stomach and the trainer who was calling after me, asking if he could be of assistance.