Matchmaking Can Be Murder Read online

  I suppressed a smile despite the tense situation. “I know it’s been a very long time since I read those stories, but I don’t think Miss Marple had a sidekick.”

  “Well, she should have.” Lois sniffed, setting the dirty dishes from the table back on her tray. “Miss Marple would have solved those tricky cases a lot sooner if she’d had backup.”

  I shook my head. “Lois, I appreciate your offer, but I can’t ask you to become involved. Look how upset Darcy is over all of this. If you help me, she will be constantly reminded of Zeke. That’s not what she needs right now.”

  “She’s my granddaughter and I will be the one who decides what she needs right now.”

  “All right,” I said warily.

  “Darcy is the very reason I have to be involved. I love my granddaughter. She’s all that I have in the world. Don’t you think I would be willing to chase down a killer to protect her? I do Pilates. I’m much stronger than I look.”

  “Pilates?” I asked, confused.

  “That’s not important. What’s important is we have to take care of our girls. Together.”

  Actually, what Lois was saying made some sense, and I realized I was in over my head. I knew that the moment I told Darcy that Zeke was dead.

  “I know you, Mildred Fisher,” she went on, “and you are investigating this murder. I want to be a part of it.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t call me Mildred. I hate my given name.”

  “As you should. You are so not a Mildred. Mildreds don’t solve crimes.”

  “Please, Lois. I don’t think this is a good idea. It could be dangerous.”

  “So it’s okay for you to put yourself in danger but not me?” She pressed her lips together as if she found this distinction particularly offensive. “I have as much business investigating this murder as you do.”

  “I know you do, but this is an Amish crime. I am almost certain of that. You would . . .” I searched for the right word.

  “You don’t think I will fit in with the Amish?” she asked, looking down at her multicolored outfit and jewels.

  “Umm . . . you might stand out a bit.”

  “So what? You need me.”

  I raised my eyebrow at her.

  “You do!” she insisted. “I even have my own lock picks. You need someone with lock picks if you’re going to be investigating a murder.”

  “You have your own lock picks?” I squeaked.

  “Sure do. Got them for a good price on eBay.” She said this like I had any idea what she was talking about. “I thought they would come in handy with my first husband. He had a knack for getting into jams. They’re German made, so you know they’re good.”

  “I have no idea what makes lock picks gut.”

  “See, there is plenty I know about crime-solving that you don’t.”

  “I’m sure,” I said.

  “Okay, so the lock picks don’t impress you, but I do have something that you don’t have, and it’s something you’ll need if you are going to be traipsing all over the county searching for a killer.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A car.”

  She had me there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I left the Sunbeam Café not long after that. Lois agreed to pick me up at my home at eight the next morning. She wasn’t able to leave the café that day because she was Darcy’s only help. Darcy’s part-time employee would be there the next day, so Lois promised she could slip away.

  As I was leaving, Englisch tourists were arriving at the café, and business picked up considerably. I wove around them and ran into a man on the sidewalk.

  “Take care there!” a man said, holding me lightly by the arm so that I wouldn’t fall over. I’d scarcely left the café and already I was bumping into people.

  “I am so sorry,” I said in a rush. “I should have looked before I came through the door. Are you all right?”

  The man dipped and scooped his black felt hat off the sidewalk. “I’m as right as rain, Millie Lapp.”

  I jerked back. “Have we met?”

  He smoothed his white beard and his blue eyes sparkled behind wire-rimmed glasses. He had long tapered fingers and a ready smile. “I should think so.”

  I gasped. “Uriah Schrock! I—I—”

  “I haven’t seen you in forty years, not since you threw me over for Kip Fisher. It’s all well and gut. I didn’t stand a chance against him. Everyone loved Kip.”

  It was true that everyone loved Kip, but it wasn’t true that I had thrown Uriah over for him. Uriah and I had been friends in school, nothing more than that. We had gone to the same one-room schoolhouse. At that time there hadn’t been many students in the school, so my district combined with several others in order to keep the doors open. Uriah had been from another district. I had thought when we were young that he was sweet on me, but it never entered my mind to look beyond my district for a husband, and it was love at first sight for Kip and me.

  These days, Uriah had a beard, a long white beard that was neatly trimmed. So he was married. I was happy to see it. Uriah had been the class clown in our old school, and there were many times when our teacher would tell him that he would never marry because no woman would have the patience for him. I was relieved to see that wasn’t the case.

  “And how is your wife?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Gone. I lost my wife about three years ago. She was an amazing woman and gave me five wonderful children. Now I have so many grandchildren and even great grandchildren, I can’t keep up with them all. Most of them live in Shipshewana, Indiana. That’s where my dear wife was from. I went out there for work as a young man and never came back until now. I need to take care of some old affairs here to do with my family in Harvest, and then I will be on my way back to Indiana.

  “How many children do you have?” he inquired.

  I felt a slight blush color my cheeks. “None. Kip and I were never blessed with children.”

  He frowned. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you in such a familiar way. We haven’t seen each other in years.”

  I smiled. “It is quite all right. We are old friends and have been blessed to live long lives; we don’t have to skirt around topics. Who has the time for that?”

  He laughed. “Something that I like best about you is the way you say just what you think. That’s refreshing in an Amish woman.”

  “ ‘When you speak, always remember that Gott is one of your listeners,’ ” I quoted.

  “Still muttering the old proverbs as well, I see.”

  “They do have a lot of wisdom.”

  He nodded. “They do indeed.”

  For some reason, I found myself blushing, and I looked down at the tote bag in my hands as if I’d just remembered I needed something out of it. When I looked up again, I saw Lois watching through the front window. She flashed me a thumbs-up. It seemed to be her encouraging sign of choice.

  In the other window, Bryan was watching Uriah and me. When he caught me looking, he returned his attention to his computer.

  “Ya, well, I am happy to see you,” I said. “Will you be in Harvest very long? Are you heading back to Shipshewana soon?”

  He shook his head. “In a few months’ time. It depends how long it takes to handle these affairs.” His cheerful face clouded over for just a moment. “I miss my family, of course, but it is nice to be back in Harvest. I like the quieter pace here. And I like that there are more groups of Amish. We aren’t all put in one category. There is far less variety in the community in Indiana.”

  “Did a member of your family come with you?”

  “Nee. They all have busy lives with businesses, farms, and children.”

  “You came this far to live alone with no family?” I asked, surprised. “That’s very brave.”

  “No braver than you, Millie Fisher, no braver than you.”

  I found myself frowning. I didn’t know how he would know that I was being brave about anything. As he said, we ha
dn’t seen each other in over forty years.

  He cleared his throat. “You might be wondering what I’m doing wandering around the village on a lovely afternoon.”

  I hadn’t been wondering that at all, but he went on to say, “Since I’ve been back, I have taken a temporary job as head groundskeeper of the square. I need something to do while I wait for some news.” Again, the clouded expression crossed his face. “It’s my job to make sure that not a single blade of grass is bent in the wrong direction. There are so many functions on the square now that it’s reached the point that someone has to make sure Harvest always looks its best, and since the square is the most important and central part of the village, the village council created this position. Luck—or more likely providence—would have it that I’d just been back in the village for a few hours when I heard about this opportunity. I snapped it up. No Amish man worth his salt wants to stand idly by. I need something to keep my mind and hands busy, especially during a time of waiting.”

  “I know that Margot Rawlings always wanted the square to look perfect,” I said. “I’m not surprised that she would like someone to maintain it.”

  He nodded. “And I’m happy to do it. It keeps me out of trouble.” The mischievous twinkle he was known for at school was back in his eyes. I could almost hear our old teacher reprimand him for his roguish demeanor. She never could stand for that. Many believed that Uriah Schrock drove the teacher to her very wit’s end.

  “I’m not idling away my time as I wait for news.” His face turned red at the possibility that I might believe so.

  “I didn’t think that at all,” I said.

  His face flushed. “Oh, I know you aren’t quick to judge, Millie. I should have remembered. It’s just with no family nearby anymore, I find myself walking to the square every day to make sure everything is in its place. It passes the time.”

  “I’m sure Margot appreciates your dedication, and I have noticed that the shrubs around the white gazebo and the other bushes around the square are much more neatly trimmed than usual.”

  “Wunderbar! A true compliment indeed.” He laughed. “And you are right—Margot appreciates people agreeing with her and going along with her schemes. I’m not sure of much else—” He rocked back on his heels. “But I do believe she has been good for the village. Harvest has grown much since I’ve been away, so very much, but it doesn’t have the commercial feel that some of the other Amish communities have. I’m glad that it has—either because of Margot or despite her—maintained its Amish essence.”

  I nodded, feeling the same way about the village. “I should leave you to it then,” I said. “If you need to make your rounds of the square, I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “You could never be an interruption, Millie. I have always thought that.”

  I blinked and gave him a small smile in return. I was unsure what to say. “If you will excuse me,” I murmured and hurried down the sidewalk. Before I got too far, I glanced over my shoulder and found Uriah watching me as I left.

  He tipped his black felt hat to me and went on his way.

  I tamped down the odd feeling that it stirred deep in my heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I crossed Church Street, aptly named for the big white church where Reverend Brook ministered, on one side of the square. An Amish family from another district was picnicking in the gazebo. The plain-dressed children ran around the large white gazebo, playing a vigorous game of tag. Other than the gazebo and a dotting of trees and shrubs, most of the square was open green space. That’s just how Margot Rawlings wanted it because if she had her way, every day of the week there would be an event or festival on the green space in the middle of the village. In the short time that I had been back in Harvest, she had all but accomplished that.

  However, that day the square was quiet, other than the normal village and tourist traffic that was common on a nice spring day in any Amish town. I waited for a moment as two buggies drove by before I crossed Main Street to reach the candy shop. Charlotte was no longer outside passing out fudge. Even from the sidewalk, I could inhale the enticing smells of warm chocolate and sugar. They mingled with the scent of fresh baked dough from the pretzel shop.

  I glanced at Esh Family Pretzels before entering the candy shop. Esther Esh, a young Amish woman of almost thirty, watched me from the window. She had a deep frown on her face. She ran the pretzel shop with her older brother Abel, who was also unmarried. It was well-known in the village that Esther did most of the work for their shop and family. She caught me looking and dropped the white gauzy curtains that covered the window, disappearing from sight.

  Shaking my head, I went into Swissmen Sweets. The bell on the door rang to announce my entry.

  There were three Englischers at the counter being helped by the three women in the shop: Bailey, her grandmother Clara, and her cousin Charlotte.

  The front of the shop, which was the only portion I had ever seen, had pine floors and polished blond wood shelves that were lined with jars and baskets of the most mouthwatering candies I had ever seen. The glass of the jars sparkled as they were carefully polished each and every day. In the main part of the room there were four small café tables with paddle-back chairs where visitors could sit and enjoy their candies and visit with friends and neighbors. The centerpiece of the shop, though, was the long glass-domed counter that was filled with trays of fudge, truffles, and chocolates of every kind. This was the counter behind which the three women stood, working in perfect sync.

  All three women were helpful and patient while the Englischers, who were clearly from outside the county, appeared to agonize over their candy choices.

  “I just don’t know if my husband would like the vanilla fudge or the cherry vanilla fudge more,” one woman said.

  Bailey smiled at her. “How much were you going to get?” Bailey was a tall Englisch woman with long dark hair and sparkling blue eyes that matched Clara’s. She was completely at home working in an Amish shop even though Charlotte and Clara were in pale blue plain dresses and sensible black sneakers and she wore jeans, a plaid button-down shirt, and feathered earrings.

  “I was thinking half a pound.” The woman frowned as if she was unsure of even how much fudge to buy.

  “How about this,” Bailey said. “Get a quarter of both. The fudge is delicious, but is best enjoyed in small doses.”

  “All right,” the Englischer said. “That does sound like a plan.”

  “I’ll throw in some of our white chocolate drops for free, just to be sure that he enjoys it,” Bailey said.

  “Oh, would you? That would be so kind.”

  Bailey smiled. “Charlotte will ring you up while I pack your items.”

  The woman thanked her and went to the cash register, where Charlotte stood waiting.

  Clara waved at me in her kind way and wiped her hands on a white muslin towel. “Millie, it is so gut to see you.” Sadness clouded her face. “I was so sorry to hear the news about Zeke Miller.”

  I nodded. “Danki.”

  “How is Edith?” she asked. Her face was a mask of concern.

  I blinked as tears threatened the corners of my eyes. I hadn’t realized just how upset I was over the situation until Clara asked. I looked down for a moment, embarrassed by my tears. The Amish, both men and women, were taught to be strong; crying in public did not show strength.

  Clara was looking away out the front window, allowing me time to collect myself. She understood my need to compose myself before I went on. I appreciated that.

  I cleared my throat. “Edith is doing well, staying strong for the children.”

  Clara nodded, accepting my answer as fact.

  The last Englischer left the shop, and Bailey came out from behind the counter and gave me a hug. “Millie, it’s so good to see you. I’m sorry . . .” She trailed off.

  “I appreciate it.” This time there were no tears. I had a much better handle on my emotions. “I thought I should stop by to tell you that w
e no longer need that wedding cake I ordered. I’m still happy pay for it.”

  “We know,” Bailey said. “Aiden told us.”

  I nodded, thinking not for the first time that I would have to be careful what I said in front of the ladies of Swissmen Sweets because of their close relationship with Deputy Aiden.

  The Englisch customer walked out the door with her vanilla-flavored sweets.

  “And you don’t need to pay us for anything,” Bailey added. “Charlotte and I never could come to an agreement about the flavor.”

  “That’s true,” Charlotte called from behind the counter where she was working tying yellow ribbon around cellophane bags of freshly made lemon drops. “Bailey doesn’t know how to compromise.”

  Bailey rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. It was clear to me that it was something the two of them had joked about many times before.

  “But you might have ordered some ingredients to start the cake,” I argued, “even if the flavor wasn’t completely settled.”

  “If we did, it does not matter,” Clara said. “We can always use the ingredients in something else.”

  “That’s right,” Bailey agreed.

  “Danki.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Bailey asked. “If you need me to talk to Aiden, I’m happy to do it.” Worry creased her forehead. “I have to leave for New York tomorrow morning. I’m doing some press and interviews for my television show, Bailey’s Amish Sweets, but I can ask to cancel or move it.”

  I shook my head. “Nee, please don’t do that. Deputy Aiden has been very kind through the process. We must just wait and see.”

  Clara cocked her head. “I haven’t known you to be a wait-and-see kind of woman, Millie.”

  I laughed. “I suppose I’m not. All I would ask is that you pray for Edith and everyone else involved.” I caught myself before mentioning Darcy. The girl could also use prayer to deal with her broken heart, but I didn’t want to spread the word about her relationship with Zeke any farther.