Murder, Simply Stitched: An Amish Quilt Shop Mystery (20 page)

O
liver and I walked back to Running Stitch lost in thought as the shops around us wound down for the day. I considered everything I had learned since the quilting class that morning, and I believed Oliver daydreamed about his winter wardrobe.

We stepped through the door of my shop to find Anna and Sarah with Mattie inside.

Oliver went off to look for Dodger.

I knit my eyebrows together. “Were we supposed to have a quilting circle meeting today?”

Anna laughed. “Can’t we visit anytime, Angie?”

I removed my jacket and hung it on the peg. “Of course you don’t need a reason.” I turned to see them all staring at me expectantly. “But you
look
like you have a reason.”

Mattie nodded. “You are going to the township meeting tonight, correct?”

“Yes.”

Anna cleaned her glasses on the hem of her apron before setting them back on her nose. “Then you need to be ready to talk those trustees out of vetoing Aaron’s factory.”

I had studied the binder the night before. The building ordinances and rules swam in my head. “I’ll try. You know I will, but there were so many rules to remember.”

Sarah grinned. “That’s why we are here. We are going to help you.”

“We’re having a cram session,” Anna said. “So you are ready for the meeting. It’s at seven o’clock sharp.”

I arched my brow. “A cram session?”

She grinned. “I heard an
Englisch
teenager say that while he studied with friends at the Millersburg Library. I quite like the phrase.”

Sarah beamed. “I have already fed my family. My husband likes to eat early anyway after a long day working on baling hay. I brought dinner for us to share.” She pointed to the large basket beside the registers. “You aren’t going to have time to go home before the meeting, Angie. There is too much to learn.”

I stared at them. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

Mattie beamed. “By the time you leave for the meeting tonight, you will know those building codes inside and out.”

Just then I noticed Willow’s binder of rules in the middle of the cutting table and four chairs circling the table. Sarah picked up the basket and moved it to the cutting-cum-dining table.

“This really is amazing. Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t thank us yet,” Anna said. “We have a lot of studying to do in a short amount of time.”

Anna eyed the larger of the two baskets. “What do you have in there?”

“Chicken and dumplings and bread pudding for dessert.” She removed a large white dish from the basket.

Oliver wagged his stub of a tail and circled Sarah. My stomach growled.

“You want some too, Oliver?” Sarah asked.

Oliver woofed and circled my feet. He knew who he had to win over. Smelling the chicken, Dodger was on his heels and meowing.

“You can have some too, you old beggar,” Anna said. “Angie, I think this dog can understand what we are saying.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I smiled. “Thank you so much for dinner, Sarah. I’m starving, and I’m glad you ladies will help me eat it. If you weren’t I’d probably eat all of it, and I need to get back into shape.”

“What kind of shape?” Anna asked as she sat at the table.

“A less round shape. I’ve gained six pounds in two months.”

“It looks good on you. You were too thin when you moved here,” Sarah said. “I know being rail thin is the popular look for
Englisch
women, but it is not healthy nor is it good to worry about your appearance so much.”

Mattie smiled. “I’m happy to help, Angie. I am hungry.”

I grinned. “Excellent.”

After the blessing, Anna pulled the binder into her lap and opened it. “I will separate the building section into four parts. Let’s each read a portion, and then we can discuss it. Since the building codes are over one hundred and fifty pages, I think this is the only way to finish all of it before the meeting.” She handed me a stack of pages.

I started reading and eating. The eating was the fun part. The room was silent for the moment. The only sounds that could be heard were Dodger and Oliver chewing the scraps Sarah gave them.

I flipped the page. “This is delicious, Sarah. Thank you again for dinner.”

She blinked at me from over her pages and smiled. “It was no trouble. When I told my husband where I was going and why he said it was a
gut
thing for you to have a good hot meal before the meeting. He is not going tonight, but he has been before. He says they are long, tense, and boring all at the same time.”

Sounded great.

She dropped her eyes. “And I may have told my husband you didn’t know how to cook, and I had to come here to make sure you got a hot meal.”

“I can cook. I love cooking.”

“I know, but it is better for my husband if he thinks I am doing some type of good deed.”

“This is a good deed,” Mattie said.

“Did your husband believe that I didn’t know how to cook?” I asked.

“
Ya.
You’re
Englisch
. Jeremiah believes all
Englisch
women are helpless in the kitchen.” She sipped her water and concentrated on her papers again.

I rolled my eyes. “Mattie, will Aaron and Rachel be wondering where you are?”

“
Nee.
My
bruder
won’t worry. I’ve walked home much later than this after work. He will think that I stopped at that library on the way home like I do many nights.” She blushed. “And with the meeting coming up tonight he won’t be concerned about me at all. He is very anxious about it.”

“For
gut
reason,” Anna said. “I haven’t found anything here yet that will help us.” She set half of her stack of papers on the floor next to her. Having finished his meal, Dodger walked over to the papers and lay on them. “I will run you home in my buggy when we are done,” Anna told Mattie.

“
Danki
, Anna.” She cut into her dumpling.

I blinked as I stared at the page in front of me. “This might be it. I think I found it: a loophole to save Aaron’s factory. I can’t believe I missed it before!” I jumped off of my chair and told them how we, not just me, may have saved Aaron Miller’s dream.

A
t six o’clock, the quilting circle’s first-ever cram session ended. We each checked and double-checked to see if I was right about how to save Aaron’s pie factory idea. Sarah, Anna, and Mattie left in buggies, and I left in my little SUV primed and ready for this meeting. Willow’s copy of the ordinances sat next to me on the passenger seat of my car.

I stopped at home on the way to the Mennonite meetinghouse only long enough to drop off Oliver and Dodger. I needed my wits about me for this meeting and not the extra distraction of my cat and dog running loose through the church. I didn’t think Head Trustee Farley Jung would look too kindly on that. I didn’t want to do anything that might hurt our chances.

Satiated with more chicken and dumplings than they should have had, both animals waddled through the front door without protest and collapsed together on Oliver’s dog bed.

“Diet starts tomorrow for the whole family,” I promised them before running out the door.

At six thirty, I arrived at the meetinghouse, which was a church on a hill overlooking Sugartree Street. The stark white church sat on a hill with only rolling hillside and trees surrounding it. It looked like a postcard.

I thought I would arrive in plenty of time to get the lay of the land before too many people showed. I was wrong. The parking lot was packed with automobiles and Amish buggies. Apparently, the township trustee meeting was a major event in Rolling Brook.

I noticed the sheriff’s SUV right away next to the meetinghouse door. I twisted my mouth, wondering if he’d heard through the Amish telegraph or simply the English cell phone tour how many questions I had asked about Wanda today after he forbade me to meddle. Not that I paid much attention to what he’d said, but I’d prefer not to have him call me out on it.

The township trustees met in the basement of the Mennonite church, and the line to enter the church progressed slowly. Head Trustee Farley Jung stood at the doors and seemed to see the line of township citizens as his personal receiving line.

As I waited, I scanned the parking lot for Rachel and Aaron. I recognized their brown buggy horse tethered to the hitching post closest to the door. They must have arrived especially early to snag that spot. My stomach twisted into a ball of knots for them. Tonight’s meeting would determine if they would be able to build the pie factory on the land they purchased. If the trustees ruled against them, they could be financially ruined. I prayed I was right about what I learned from the township ordinances. I may think I knew all the building rules, but Farley would have them memorized.

Farley shook the hand of an Amish man in front of me. “Samuel, good to see you. How are your fields?”

The man mumbled something back.

I suspect Farley knew as much about farming as I did, which summed up that plants need water and sunshine to survive. After that, I had nothing.

I shuffled forward. Samuel stopped to chat with another Amish man, effectively trapping me right next to Farley.

His lips curled into an oily smile. The man should really get a mustache. I’d bet he would be an expert mustache twirler. “Angie, I’m so happy you came.” He squeezed my upper arm again, and I shifted away from him.

“Thank you,” I said maneuvering out of his grasp. When I did, I accidentally elbowed the man beside me in the ribs.

“Oph!” he grunted.

“I’m so sorry.” I looked up to see that I was staring into Linus Raber’s clean-shaven face.

Linus’s face broke into a smile. “It is quite all right. There was no harm done, and we are packed in here tightly.”

“The fellowship hall will be plenty big enough for everyone. However, this turnout is most surprising,” Farley said.

I pivoted my attention back to Farley. “You don’t usually get this many?”

“They must be here because of the Millers’ proposal.” He smiled.

I wanted to ask him what he meant by that. I could understand why so many business owners on Sugartree Street might be interested, but the whole community? What was in it for them?

“Excuse me,” an Englishman said behind me. “Let’s keep moving.”

I couldn’t agree more. Samuel and his friend went inside the church.

“We will talk later, Angie,” Farley promised as I stepped over the threshold. I took it as a threat.

Linus chuckled. “You appear relieved to be away from him.”

I grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”

“Ya.”

“I shouldn’t begrudge him so much. He does a lot for the township.” I followed the line of people to the stairwell.

Linus nodded. “It’s hard to do any business in Rolling Brook without his blessing. He has a lot of pull with the
Englisch
in the community, and since the
Englisch
are the only ones willing to serve on the board in the township, they make all the decisions.”

“None of the Amish will do it?”

“There are some Amish in small offices in the county. There’s an Amish man serving on the school board in Charm, and there is an Amish community leader in Berlin. However, it’s rare, rare even for Holmes County, where the Amish outnumber the
Englischers
.”

I just missed stepping on someone’s foot. If I had the room, I would remove my jacket. It was stifling in the stairwell, waiting for people to move. “So how do the Amish make their wishes known?”

“They will speak up at meetings like this if necessary, but most of the time they have to trust their
Englisch
friends will remember them with each important vote.”

Another thought struck me. “I didn’t realize Fannie from the yarn shop was your sister. I hope Wanda’s death doesn’t have too much an impact on your business.”

His jaw hardened. “Why would it do that?”

In the close stairwell, I couldn’t escape the sudden flash of anger on his face. “Because she rented space in your building. Your sister told me all about it.”

“David is still there. I don’t believe he plans to leave. I know he won’t leave until his lease is up, and he has another year on that. It’s unfortunate about what happened, and I am sad for her family and friends. It doesn’t have a direct impact on me.”

“It does on Reed and he works with you at the auction.”

“Reed is a
gut
kid. He talks back some, but no worse than I heard any other teenage boy,
Englisch
or Amish. He works for Gideon. At the auction yard, we all work for Gideon.” He shrugged. “Reed is not my problem either.”

“Were you surprised when Gideon hired him?”

“Should I have been?”

“He’s the only non-Amish working on the place, and he is Wanda’s nephew.” I let my last statement hang.

“He’s good with horses and animals. The Amish don’t discriminate against the
Englisch
by not offering them work.”

“Excuse me,” a heavyset woman said as she wove awkwardly around us. People squeezed by as they made their way to the meeting. I hadn’t realized there was no one in front of us blocking the way into the basement any longer, so I started moving down the steps.

Linus was behind me. I felt his breath on my neck as his spoke. “My advice to you is to stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong or you will regret it.”

I spun around to say something in return, but all I saw were the townsfolk making their way down the stairs, and Linus’s back receding as he forced his way back up the steps.

“Keep moving,” the man behind me said.

I gave him a dirty look before making my way down the last few steps.

The stairwell opened into a large room with a linoleum floor and basketball hoops on either end. I could imagine the children of the church, squeaky sneakers running back and forth across the room. A hundred gray folding chairs filled the room. Half of them were full. There was still plenty of seating. Behind the far basketball hoop was a stage with cafeteria-length folding tables standing end to end on the raised platform. A navy cloth covered their length. A nameplate for each of the township trustees sat in front of their empty places, even in front of Wanda’s place.

Finally, I spotted Rachel and Aaron near the front of the room, seated with a group of Amish. I hesitated as I considered whether or not I should sit with them. In the end, I took a spot in the back. I didn’t know how Aaron would react to me being there.

A man sat next to me and braced his hands on his knee. “Wow, this place needs an elevator. Those steps gave me a back cramp.”

I winced. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He leaned closer to me smelling of cigar smoke. “What are you in for?”

“In for?”

“Well, no one comes to the township meeting unless they want something or are fighting a complaint. What’s the complaint against you?”

I shifted away from him. “No complaint. I’m new in town and want to see what’s going on in the community.”

He gave me a slow nod. “So you’re here for the show. Well, you came on a good night. Usually there are maybe two dozen people. Tonight we have a big crowd with a lot of Amish.” He pronounced it A-mish. “Typically, the Amish don’t come to this sort of thing. It’s not their bag, you know.”

I didn’t respond.

“Plus, everyone is here to see what’s going to happen with Wanda Hunt’s seat. She’s second chair to Farley. Now, Caroline Cramer has a shot to be head honcho.”

At the front of the room, I noted that name was on the left side of Farley’s seat. “Who’s Caroline Cramer?”

“You live in town and haven’t met her yet? I’m surprised. What is it you do?”

“I don’t live in Rolling Brook. I own and operate Running Stitch. It’s a quilt shop on Sugartree Street.”

“Sure, I know it. My wife goes there all the time. Don’t think she’s been lately though.”

“She should come back. We have a lot of exciting things going on.” I opened my purse and removed a postcard about the quilting classes. “Give this to her.”

“Aww, thank you. She will like that.” He slipped the card into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Since you have a business in town, I would have thought you would have met Caroline by now. She’s gathering support, and the shopkeepers are a number one target.”

“Support for what?”

“The election for the new township trustees is coming up, and she wants Farley’s job. He will still be a trustee, but he can only serve at the head of the group for six years, like a senator. His term is almost up.”

“When is the election?”

“First Tuesday in November just like the state and national elections. The turnout will likely be poor this year. There’s nothing big on the ballot like a president or governor. That will probably work in Caroline’s favor. She will mobilize her supporters. No one else will care much.”

“If she’s a shoo-in to win, what is she worried about?”

“Wanda.”

My blood ran cold.

“Wanda?”

“Oh, yeah, she was Caroline’s main competition. In fact, Wanda was certain to win until, you know, she died. Shame. It’s a done deal now really that Caroline will have the post. No one is running against her.”

It was a shame and a suspect. Caroline had a lot to gain by Wanda’s death. Now she had no competition for the job as head trustee. Was the job worth killing for? As far as I could tell there wasn’t any wealth or prestige that came with the position, just an enormous binder.

Rachel turned in her seat and spotted me in the back of the room. She gave me a nervous smile. My poor friend was as white as one of those sheets Tabitha Nissley hung to dry on her clothesline earlier in the day. I willed her to calm down. I wished I could tell her that I solved the problem and that she didn’t need to worry.

My companion cleared his throat. “Did you hear how Wanda bought the farm?”

“Oh?”

“Very tragic. Choked on an Amish fry pie. What a way to go.”

“It sounds terrible.”

“There was blueberries and blood everywhere.”

I grimaced. “I don’t think that’s accurate. Where did you hear that?”

“From the cousin of a fishing buddy of mine.”

“Well, the cousin of your fishing buddy is wrong.”

“Wanda didn’t die?”

“She did, but it wasn’t as gruesome as you described. I was there.”

“What can you tell me about it?”

“Nothing.”

He frowned. “Too bad.”

I scooted away even more. “What are you doing here? Are you here for the
show
?”

“Nope. I come for the snacks.”

Farley climbed the stage and walked to the podium, ending my conversation with my neighbor. “Please everyone, let’s be seated so that the meeting can begin.”

Farley was my hero for saving me from the odd conversation with my seatmate; likely this was the one and only time that would be the case.