Assaulted Caramel Page 19

  My grandmother’s face fell and tears gathered in her blue eyes. “How would anyone believe that about you? I just don’t understand how Aiden could think that.”

  She looked so distraught that I backpedaled. “It’s his job, and the evidence against me can’t be ignored.”

  Maami closed her eyes for just a moment as if in prayer. “Gott will put it all to rights. You will see.” She opened her eyes again. “We should not dwell on this. What do you have to do for the wedding today? Do you need my help?”

  I shook my head. “Everything is ready for the wedding. Cass and I will set out the desserts while the ceremony is going on, so that they will stay fresh. Since the wedding isn’t until the evening”—I shot Cass a sideways glance—“I thought I would show her around town and visit the different places I liked to go as a child.”

  “Gut. It will be gut for you to put your mind on other things and not this murder business.” My grandmother stirred sugar into her coffee, poured a second cup, fixed it with sugar and cream, and placed everything on a tray. I knew she was taking it to the sitting room to share morning coffee with my grandfather. It was a ritual they’d had for as long as I could remember.

  My grandfather always said he was grateful that he wasn’t a tradesman or a farmer. Because he lived above the candy shop, he was able to see my grandmother from sunup to sundown every day. I pressed my lips together to hold back the questions on the tip of my tongue about my grandfather’s health. I didn’t want Maami to know that I had been eavesdropping on their conversation.

  I wasn’t as sure about God putting the murder investigation to rights. It wasn’t going that well so far, which was why I had to step in.

  I cleared my throat. “We’d better be off then. I don’t want to be gone too long in case there is any news from Deputy Brody about whether or not we can open the shop to visitors.”

  She nodded and lifted the heavy tray from the counter.

  I reached for it. “Let me take that for you.”

  She held the tray away from me. “I’ve been taking coffee to your grandfather every day for over fifty years. I’m not going to stop until I don’t have a choice.” Her mouth turned down. With a straight back and her chin held high, she carried the tray out of the room.

  Cass clicked her tongue. “Now I know where you get your crazy work ethic from. Does your grandmother ever sit down?”

  I shook my head. “Not often enough.” I drained the last of my coffee. “Let’s go. We have a murder to solve.”

  “I thought you were going to show me around town?”

  “You can see the town while we search for a killer.”

  Cass stood up and brushed crumbs from her black pants. “I suddenly feel like I am a character in a Scooby Doo cartoon. It goes without saying, but I’m Daphne.”

  “Who does that make me?” I asked.

  “Velma, I suppose.”

  “Great.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Would you rather be Shaggy? You don’t have the right facial hair for it.” She tapped a finger against her cheek. “I never realized it before, but he wears his beard just like the Amish men do. Do you think he’s Amish?”

  I rolled my eyes again. “Let’s go, deep thinker.” I walked out of the kitchenette.

  She followed me. “I was just asking if it could be possible.”

  Cass continued her argument that Shaggy was, in fact, Amish as we made our way down the stairs into the shop.

  I was about to remind her that Shaggy drove a van, and therefore could not be Amish, when a face pressed up against the shop’s front window. I screamed. Cass screamed. The figure jumped back and a muffled squeal came through the glass.

  Chapter 31

  “Bailey!” Maami called from the top of the stairs. “Are you all right?”

  I stared out the window and saw Ruth Yoder standing on the other side of the glass with her hand pressed against her chest.

  “We’re fine,” I called back to my grandmother. “Cass startled me.”

  “Don’t pin this on me,” Cass complained.

  “Shh!” I hissed.

  “You all right then?” Maami asked with more than a little concern.

  “We’re fine,” I called. “Aren’t we, Cass?”

  Cass jumped away from me as if anticipating the elbow I was about to throw in her direction. “We’re good.”

  “All right. Be safe today.”

  We heard the sound of her muffled footsteps making their way back to Daadi in the sitting room.

  I ushered Cass out the front door of Swissmen Sweets, taking care to lock it as I went. I didn’t want the deacon’s wife taking the unlocked door as an invitation to enter the candy shop and pester my grandparents.

  Across the street on the square, I saw a group of Amish men raising a large white tent. The preparations for Mira and Jace’s wedding were well underway. I couldn’t see Eileen from where I stood, but I knew she must be over there monitoring every move the men made. It still remained to be seen if she would approve of the desserts Cass and I had made for the reception. Not that she would have much choice but to take them. There wasn’t enough time to make any alternatives.

  I smiled at the deacon’s wife. “Good morning! We’re sorry to have startled you,” I said, even though her face against the glass had be the reason for our screams.

  Ruth lowered her hand from her chest and patted the back of her white prayer cap as if to make sure that it was still on the top of her head. “You should be more careful not to frighten people like that.”

  “You were the one being a peeper.” Cass adjusted one of the bobby pins holding back her hair.

  I looked heavenward.

  “Who is this?” Ruth snapped at me.

  I plastered a smile on my face. “Ruth, this is my friend Cassandra. She’s visiting from New York.”

  The Amish woman looked Cass up and down and didn’t appear to like what she found. I had to admit, Cass’s hair wasn’t as perfectly styled as it normally would be. Her purple and black locks were almost dry, but, as she’d predicted, without the help of a hair dryer they were a tad frizzy. Well, maybe a bit more than a tad. I valued my life too much to make this observation aloud though.

  Ruth looked away from her. “I would like to speak to your grandparents.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t. “Now isn’t a good time. My grandparents are both resting. They had a terrible day yesterday and are still recovering.”

  She sniffed. “I can imagine. It is not every day that one finds a body in the kitchen.”

  “I would hope not. That would be really inconvenient,” Cass said.

  “Maybe you can come back later,” I suggested, smiling as brightly as I dared.

  “When?” she asked.

  I wanted to say never, but instead, I said, “Tomorrow sometime.”

  “Tomorrow is Sunday, the Lord’s Day, and I am the deacon’s wife. I have many obligations on that day. I can’t come here and call on your grandparents on a Sunday.” She adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

  “I guess that leaves you with Monday, then,” Cass said.

  Ruth frowned. “My husband, the deacon, will be hearing about this.” With that, she spun around, sending her dark skirts and black apron flying around her legs, and stomped away from us.

  As she marched down the sidewalk in the direction of Main Street’s intersection with Apple Street, an Amish woman stepped out of the cheese shop and shook a plain navy tablecloth onto the sidewalk. Crumbs flew in the air. I blinked at her. I recognized her as one of the ladies who’d helped to clean up after the church dinner, the one who’d told her friend that she no longer to planned to sell her shop now that Tyson was dead.

  I looped my arm through my best friend’s. “Cass, I think we are going to start our day with cheese.”

  “Come again?” She fussed with one of the bobby pins using her free hand.

  “I think we need to visit the cheese shop next door. They have a
ton of free samples. You could eat your weight in cheese if you wanted to.”

  She groaned and patted her flat stomach. “I already ate my weight in French toast. Can’t this wait until later? What about the whole, let’s catch a killer thing? Have you already given up on that idea? Because if you have, I’m on board with it.”

  I shook my head. “It can’t wait even a second—not if you want me to return to New York free of a murder rap. Visiting the cheese shop is part of the solving murder idea.”

  She sighed. “I guess I can eat some cheese for a good cause. When I get back to the city, my personal trainer is going to kill me. I can see a million stomach crunches in my future.”

  The bell over the Cheese Haus’s front door jangled when Cass and I stepped inside a moment later. It was after ten in the morning now and there was an Amish girl at the counter. The woman who had shaken the crumbs from the tablecloth was seated at a table behind the sales counter, cutting huge slabs of cheese into three inch bricks.

  I also knew the girl in the shop, or at least I had seen her before. She had been the one cleaning the church who had argued with Jace during the tasting. Judging by the way her eyes widened, she recognized me too.

  “I’ve never seen so much cheese in my life,” Cass said in an almost reverent tone.

  I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “There are dozens of cheese shops in New York.”

  “Sure, but they don’t have free samples.” She waved her hand down the line of cheese on the counter. “At least not like this, out in the open and ready for the taking.”

  I suppressed a smile. “I thought you were too full to eat another bite of anything.”

  “Maybe I’m getting my second wind. Oh look, gouda, my favorite.”

  I pulled on her sleeve. “Can we focus on why we are here, please? Clear my name, remember?”

  She shoved three pieces into her mouth and waved her toothpick at me. “Maybe your being Amish isn’t half-bad. You can hook me up with cheese like this, can’t you? Do they ship?”

  “I’m not Amish,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time.

  “Can I help you?” The girl’s voice trembled ever so slightly.

  I smiled at her. “We are just browsing. I saw you at the church yesterday, right? I’m Bailey.”

  Her eyes were wide. “Maribel,” she replied. Then she added, “We have a lot of samples out, but if you’d like to try anything special, please let me know.”

  Beside me, Cass rubbed her hands together.

  “Actually,” I said. “What kind of cheese does she have?” I gestured to the woman behind the counter. “If I may, I would love to try that one.”

  Maribel turned to the woman and said something in Pennsylvania Dutch.

  The older woman stood up. She wore a plain blue dress and black apron. Her white prayer cap was precisely pinned on top of her white head. “You’re the girl who was at the church last night.” She pointed the knife at me, and then looked at Cass. “You were there too, but your hair looked different.” She squinted at Cass.

  I grimaced, hoping that Cass wouldn’t say anything that would get us kicked out of the shop before I even had a chance to question the shopkeeper.

  “This is a new personal low,” Cass whispered. “When an Amish person notices how bad my hair is. There’s no coming back from that.”

  The woman behind the counter turned back to me. “You’re Jebidiah and Clara’s granddaughter, aren’t you?” She stared at me. “I should have known. You remind me so much of Clara when she was younger. You’re taller, of course, but you have the same bright blue eyes, and you resemble her around the mouth.” She set her knife on the table. “I’m Birdie Klemp, and this my granddaughter Maribel.”

  I smiled at them both. “It’s so nice to meet you. My grandparents only have nice things to say about their neighbors.”

  “We feel the same about the Kings. They have been gut neighbors to us. I heard that Clara and Jebidiah’s Englisch granddaughter was here visiting them. It is nice for you to visit when your grandfather is feeling so poorly.”

  “Oh, she’s not British. She lives in New York,” Cass said around a mouthful of cheese. I hadn’t even realized that she was again diving into the free samples.

  Birdie smiled at her but didn’t correct Cass. “I’m so sorry about what has happened. It’s just awful. Your grandparents are gut people and they have been gut neighbors to me these last thirty years. They were especially kind when my husband passed on. Jebidiah always took it upon himself to look in on me to see how I was getting on. I’ve been meaning to look in on them. Please tell your grandparents that I have been praying for them. I imagine they will have seen the deacon by now.”

  “I haven’t met the deacon yet.” I didn’t add that I had caught his wife staring into the candy shop earlier that morning.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “It is his job to make sure everything in the district is running just as it should. I’m sure this has come as a great shock to our deacon and the other leaders of the district.” She picked up her knife again. “You’d like a sample of this cheddar I’m cutting? It’s our top seller.”

  “Sure would,” Cass said. I was beginning to wonder if she was a hobbit and this stop at the Cheese Haus was her second breakfast.

  Birdie cut off a generous piece for each of us, placed them on matching white paper plates, and handed them over the counter.

  Cass broke off a piece and popped her into her mouth. “Oh! It melts in your mouth.”

  I stared at my hunk of cheese. I wasn’t able to eat when I was upset, and a huge piece of cheese wouldn’t have been my first choice if I could get anything down. “I’ll be sure to deliver your message to my grandparents.”

  “Danki. Is there anything that Maribel and I could help you find?”

  “I’d like to pick up a few things for my friends back in New York. They won’t believe I was in a real Amish cheese shop unless I bring back samples,” Cass said.

  Birdie blushed. “There’s plenty to choose from. It’s quite nice to think that fancy people in New York City will be sampling my cheeses. We do have a shipping service, so tell your friends that we can ship any cheeses they like.”

  “I will,” Cass promised, and began wandering around the shop, eating tiny pieces of cheese as she went.

  That left me alone with Birdie. I was wondering how I could bring up the delicate topic of her selling her business to Tyson when she said, “I am sorry for what happened to your grandparents.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “I’m sorry that horrible man died in their kitchen, but I can’t say that I’m sorry he’s dead.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I regret I said that. I should have never said such a thing.”

  Without looking up, Maribel wrapped the cheese that her grandmother had cut in plastic. As she worked, her hands shook. Maribel knew something or was afraid of something when it came to Tyson Colton. Because of Jace’s reaction to her, I sensed she had some connection to the family. What had he said? That he thought she and Emily were happy Tyson was dead? It was something close to that.

  “From what I heard about him, most people felt the same way,” I said. “He didn’t seem to be well liked, especially by the Amish.”

  Birdie pulled back her neck, exaggerating her double chin. “And why would we like him? He was horrible to the entire community. All he wanted to do was buy our property and make us work for him. He didn’t care about anyone other than himself.”

  “I understand he bought this shop,” I said.

  She pressed her lips together.

  “My grandfather told me that before Tyson died,” I said, hoping that mentioning my grandfather would remind her that we were on the same side. “Tyson wanted to buy Swissmen Sweets too.”

  It seemed to work because she relaxed just a little. “I didn’t know that for sure, but I’m not surprised. That horrid man wanted to buy up all the businesses on Main Street.” She clenched her fists at her side
s.

  “Why is that? What would he want with all these Amish businesses?”

  Again, she pressed her lips together, and I thought maybe I had gone too far this time. “He didn’t share his reasons with me, but there are rumors.” She sat back down at the table with the cheese and began cutting again.

  It seemed that the Amish always had to be doing something productive. Rarely did my grandparents sit still or sit just to chat. They were always doing something else at the same time. In the case of my grandfather, it would be cutting chocolate or stirring caramel. My grandmother would knit or quilt while visiting. Their hands were in constant motion.

  I stepped closer to the counter to see Birdie better. “What kind of rumors?”

  Behind me Cass exclaimed, “Be still my heart! There are like, fifteen kinds of cheddar over here.”

  I ignored Cass and focused on the conversation at hand. “What kind of rumors?” I repeated.

  Birdie concentrated on her task for a moment, and I thought she wasn’t going to answer the question at all. “I heard that he wanted to own all the businesses on Main Street to turn Harvest into some kind of Amish theme park. His vision was an Amish Disneyland.”

  Chapter 32

  “Amish Disneyland?” I squeaked. “Doesn’t Harvest already get a fair amount of traffic? I always thought it was one of the most popular spots in Amish Country.”

  She nodded. “It is, but Tyson wasn’t making money off the tourism as it stands now, was he?”

  “He wanted to make money off of all the business in Harvest?”

  “Ya, what else would be want?” She resumed cutting. “I have it on good authority that he would make a handsome profit once he owned everything on Main Street.”

  “Who told you that?” I asked.

  She clamped her mouth shut.

  I leaned on the counter and decided to level with her at least a little bit. “I know I’m asking a lot of questions, but you have to understand the situation that my grandparents are in. The sheriff’s department is looking at my grandparents closely.”