“Me too.”
“We can take the diaper changes in turn. You go first and I’ll do the next one.”
“That sounds fair and while I’m doing that you phone Crowley and see what you can find out.”
Ettie pulled her mouth to one side. “I hope this goes all right.”
“Just don’t let him get suspicious. If he wants to know why, just tell him you’ve always wondered what would happen, and if he asks any more questions just get off the phone quickly.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one doing it.”
“Would you rather change the diaper?”
“Okay, I’m going now.” Ettie grabbed her shawl before she walked out the door. A cool breeze swept over Ettie, making her shiver as she walked down the road to the shanty that housed the telephone. She knew Crowley’s mobile number by heart and she hoped he answered it, rather than having her call divert to his pesky voicemail.
After she had put the money in the tin, she picked up the receiver and dialed his number.
“Hello,” Crowley answered after two beeps.
“Hello,” Ettie replied.
“Yes, hello?”
“Hello, this is Ettie.”
“Ettie, it’s nice to hear from you. How are you and Elsa-May?”
“We’re fine.”
“Are you calling me for a reason? Has someone been murdered?”
“Nee, well, not that I know of. I have a question for you and that’s why I’m calling.”
“I’m out on the golf course and they’re waiting for me to take my turn. Can we make this quick?”
“What would happen if someone were to find a baby?”
“A baby? Find one where?”
“Hypocritically, if someone found a baby…”
Crowley cut across her, “Hypothetically?”
Ettie pulled a face. She wouldn’t let Elsa-May know she'd used the wrong word. Elsa-May had a much better education, which sometimes made her prideful in Ettie’s opinion. “Sorry, that’s what I meant. Anyway, what would happen if someone found a baby on their doorstep?”
“They should contact the police right away.”
“If they did, what would happen to the baby?”
“It very much depends on the circumstances. The baby would be in emergency care, most likely in a foster home environment until…”
Ettie heard Crowley talk to people in the background.
He came back. “I’m sorry, Ettie, I need to take my turn; I’m holding everyone up. If this is something we need to discuss, I can come by this evening after the ‘nineteenth hole.’”
“No, no it’s nothing. Thank you. I didn’t mean to hold you up. You go and play your game of golf.”
“Okay. Bye, Ettie and say hello to Elsa-May.”
“I will. Bye.”
Crowley promptly hung up the phone.
It was just as she suspected. Why had Elsa-May made her call Crowley? Ettie walked back home, worrying about the baby and wondering what their next move should be. When she pushed the front door open, she saw Elsa-May walking the baby up and down while holding him close against her chest.
“We can’t keep him. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course I know that,” Elsa-May snapped. “What did Crowley have to say?”
“He couldn’t talk much; he was in the middle of a game of golf. He said the baby would most likely go into foster care—a foster home just like we thought. But that’s not an option. You read the note.”
“Did you find anything else in the basket?” Elsa-May asked.
“Nothing. I’ll take another look.” Ettie walked to the kitchen and looked the basket over carefully. There was nothing else in the basket or mixed up within the blankets. “Nothing here,” she called out to Elsa-May. “Did you manage to get the diaper changed all right?”
“I figured it out. It’s the first time I’ve used one of those throwaway ones. I’ve only ever used the cloth diapers.”
“Do you think I should go and talk to Bethany now?” Ettie glanced at the clock to see that it was just before midday.
“Jah, we should do everything as soon as we can. Crowley always said the leads grow colder the more time ticks away.”
“Okay, I’ll heat up some soup for us and then I’ll go. We have to keep our strength up.”
“Good idea.”
“Put him down, Elsa-May, you don’t want him to get used to being carried everywhere.”
Elsa-May looked down at the baby. “He’s asleep now. I’ll put him back in his little basket.” Elsa-May placed him back in his basket on the kitchen table. “Now my back is aching. I wouldn’t have thought such a light baby would make my back ache like this.”
“It’s the way you were holding him. You were arching your back—that’s what made it ache.”
“You think so?”
Ettie nodded.
“I’ll have to be more careful.”
“Jah, watch your posture.” Ettie took the saucepan out of the cold box and put it back on the stove to heat. The day before, she’d made vegetable and pasta soup. It always tasted better the day after it was made.
Both ladies sat down at the kitchen table while they waited for the food to heat.
“It’d be nice if you could come with me,” Ettie said.
“I would, but one of us needs to stay here with the boppli and we can’t take him with us.”
“I know. I can’t shake the eerie feeling I got from reading that note.”
“Put it out of your mind, Ettie.”
“I’ll try.”
“Now, what are you going to ask Bethany?”
“I’m going to take the quilt with me and ask her if they are exclusive to her store. If not, where else are they sold?”
“And also, who makes them.”
“Jah, and who makes them. Gut idea. Anything else?”
“Play it by ear. See what happens. You’ll know what to do.”
“Denke.” Ettie got up to check the stove when she heard the soup bubbling. “It’s ready.”
“Good. I’m starving,” Elsa-May said.
As Ettie poured the soup into two bowls, she said, “Don’t forget the baby would probably eat once every four hours—although I think young ones like him might drink more often. Just feed him whenever he looks hungry.”
“Don’t worry about me, you just worry about yourself. I look after the baby and you go and find out where he came from.”
“So, he’s definitely a he?” Ettie asked.
“Yes and also he must be only days old because he still has the stump of the umbilical cord. I put methylated spirits on it to dry it out.”
“Gut, Elsa-May. That brings back memories. I forgot all about waiting for that thing to dry out and fall off. Now, don’t we have to take the baby out into the sun so he gets some sunlight to prevent jaundice?”
“Take him into the light—not direct sunlight.”
“Jah, that’s what I meant.”
“He looks a gut color, but when he wakes I’ll take him out back into the garden after I wrap him up well.”
Ettie placed a bowl of soup in front of Elsa-May and sat down to one herself.
Snowy ran inside through the dog door and started pawing at Elsa-May’s leg.
“Down, boy, down.”
“Do you think he’d like some soup?” Ettie asked.
“It can’t hurt him I suppose. Put some in his dog bowl and see if he’ll eat it.”
Ettie poured a cup of soup into his dog bowl. Snowy took a couple of licks and then vigorously shook his head.
“Seems he’s not much of a vegetarian,” Ettie said.
“He’ll have to wait for dinner tonight to get his meat.”
As if hearing Elsa-May’s words Snowy ran back out through the dog door where he had a kennel close to the house and under cover, out of the rain.
Chapter 3
It had been weeks since Ettie had been anywhere near Bethany’s store. With the quil
t tucked under her arm, she entered the store and was pleased to see that Bethany was there, rather than one of her workers. Bethany was busy wrapping a package for a lady who was standing at the counter. Ettie waited until Bethany was free.
Bethany looked over and smiled at her. When she’d finished serving the woman, Bethany said, “Ettie, how are you? It's nice to see you. Are you shopping today?”
“Nee, I’ve come to visit.”
“Do you have time for a cup of tea with me?”
Ettie said, “Nee, not today I don’t. I'm here to ask you a question.”
“Really? Well, ask away.”
Ettie pulled the baby quilt out of the bag she’d carried it in. “Does this look familiar?”
“Jah. That's one of my baby quilts. Where did you get it?”
“Is this only available in your store?” Ettie asked, hoping that Bethany would say ‘yes.’
“That's one of the designs that Gladys makes for me.”
“And does Gladys only make this design of quilt for you?”
“I hope so. That’s one of my personal designs. She only works for me now that I’ve got so busy. She doesn't make them for anybody else. Why do you ask?”
Ettie ignored her question and continued by saying, “Elsa-May and I thought it was one of yours. How many of these would you have sold?”
“I think I've sold about six of that design since the store’s been open.”
“Only six?”
Bethany nodded. From working in the store briefly months ago, Ettie knew that Bethany collected emails and addresses of people who bought quilts from her. She kept a database on her computer.
“Do you still keep records of all your customers?”
“I do. I have a mailing list of all my customers. Why are you so interested in that particular quilt? If there’s something wrong with it I can have it fixed. Did stitching come undone or something? If it did, I would be glad to have it fixed.”
Ettie shook her head. “It’s fine. So, you do have a record of everybody who bought this particular quilt?”
When Bethany nodded again, Ettie felt that she might be able to find the person who bought the quilt and be onto the trail of the person who left the baby on the doorstep.
Bethany put her head to one side. “What is this about, Ettie?”
“The thing is, Bethany, I can't tell you. I need to know who bought this very quilt. Is there a way you can tell me that?”
“When I take my customers details, I always assure them it’s confidential.”
“I assure you, no one will know and it’s extremely important. It could even be a matter of life and death.”
Bethany frowned. “Can’t you tell me?”
Ettie shook her head.
“I wish you could tell me what this is all about.”
“I’ll tell you as soon as I can, but right now I can't.”
“Oh, Ettie, this is putting me in a difficult position.” Bethany walked over to her computer and pushed some buttons. “I can't tell you who bought that exact design. I enter people’s data according to the money they’ve spent on a specific item. So I can enter the exact price of that baby quilt, and give you the names of all the people who have bought that exact size quilt. I haven’t sold that many of them.”
“That would be a help. Denke, Bethany.”
“I'll print them out for you, but please, keep this as confidential as you can. I shouldn't be doing this.”
“It's for a good cause, Bethany. I'll need you to trust me for a while, and I promise to keep it confidential.”
“I do trust you, and that's the only reason I'm about to give you all these people's personal details.” Bethany stared at Ettie and Ettie nodded.
“Denke, Bethany.”
Bethany spent a couple of minutes on the computer before she pressed a button and then looked up at Ettie. “Done!”
Ettie frowned until she heard the whirr of the printer.
Bethany then pulled the two pages out of the printer and handed them to Ettie. “That’s all of them. All my customers who bought this size quilt.”
“Bethany, I'm very grateful for this. It means a lot to me, and I’ll tell you as soon as I can what it’s about.”
“Okay, and when you’re done with that list would you bring it back here so I can shred it? I don’t want the names lying around anywhere.”
“I will. Now, who makes the small quilts for you? Did you say Gladys?”
Bethany nodded. “Gladys Timberlake.”
“Jah, of course, I know Gladys.”
“There’s no need to talk with her. She only makes these ones for me and I know that because she wouldn't have time to make them for anyone else. These are my own designs, as I said.”
“Denke, Bethany, you’ve been a great help. And this quilt being so unique is going to help me more than you know.”
“How about a cup of tea before you leave, Ettie? You look a bit pale.”
“Nee, I'll have to get back to Elsa-May, she’s waiting for me.”
“Is she alright?”
“Jah, she is at the moment, although she did sneeze today, and she has a bit of a bad back.”
“That's terrible. You’d better go home and look after her.”
“I will and I'll be in touch soon.”
Ettie hurried out of the store with the pages folded in the middle of the baby quilt. Bethany's comments about her looking pale made her feel squirmy in the tummy—maybe it was just nerves. She walked past a bakery and the smell of the freshly baked bread lured her in. A sultana cake with pink frosting caught her eye. Figuring that she and Elsa-May could do with some sugar, she bought it.
* * *
Ettie was being driven home in a taxi when she passed Gladys' house. “Stop!” she called out to the driver from the back seat.
The driver slammed on his brakes and turned around. “This isn't the address you gave me.” He glared at her.
Ettie looked at the meter, handed him some money and opened the door. “Can you pick me up from right here in half an hour?”
“I don't know where I'll be in half an hour, lady.”
“How about you fetch me in around half an hour then—twenty minutes, forty minutes—something like that? Beep the horn when you're outside?”
“Okay.”
Ettie got out of the car, hurried to the house, and then knocked on Gladys' door. Had she not driven right past her door, she wouldn't have bothered to stop. She’d ask her outright if she’d ever made quilts for anyone else, or indeed, if she had ever made Bethany’s baby-pattern quilt for anybody else. If the answer were ‘no,’ Ettie would know that there was a definite connection between their baby boy and one of those people on the list Bethany had given her.
The door opened, and Ettie saw the small elderly woman standing in the doorway. Even though Gladys was around the same age as Ettie, Ettie always thought of Gladys as an old lady, but never thought of herself as one.
“Ettie, it's been so long since you visited me. Come inside.” When Ettie stepped inside, Gladys asked. “Where’s Elsa-May?”
“She’s home. I’ll bring her next time I visit. I won't stay long. I was just going home in the taxi and I thought I would call in and see you.” She followed Gladys to a sun-drenched sitting room, while carrying the quilt and the pages from Bethany tucked under her arm, and the string-tied cake box in her hand.
“Have a seat; this is where I sew.”
Ettie looked around the room to see fabric all over the place.
“Just make some space.”
Ettie moved some material over so she could sit down on the chair next to Gladys. She placed the sultana cake beside her and the quilt on her lap. “My, it's such a lovely room here in the sun.”
“Jah, and we haven't had much sun lately, have we?”
“Nee, it's been raining so much. It's good to have some blue sky today.”
“I see you have one of my quilts.” Gladys pointed to the baby quilt.
�
�Jah. I was just at Bethany’s store and she told me that you make these for her. I told her how lovely I thought it was and Bethany said it’s her pattern.”
“Bethany wanted a line of exclusive patterns that would be purely sold in her own store and not available anywhere else. I told her that anybody could copy the patterns, but she didn't seem to worry about that.”
“So you make these, you only supply them to Bethany’s store and don't supply them for anyone else?”
“I work seven days a week… Well, not on Sundays—don't tell the bishop I just said seven days.” Gladys laughed. “I work on my sewing nearly every day of the week, since making quilts is what I do best.”
“Jah, you do a wunderbaar job.”
“Denke. Anyway, I enjoy it, and why shouldn’t I do what I enjoy doing at my age of life?”
“That's true, we should do whatever we want when we reach our age.” Ettie chortled. What Bethany had said was true—Gladys didn't make them for anybody else. “And you made this one?” Ettie pushed it forward.
“I can tell just by looking that I did.”
“Have a closer look.”
“Jah. Why all the interest in this quilt, Ettie?”
“It's just such a lovely quilt that I wanted to know more about it and know who made it.”
“Didn't Bethany tell you I made it?”
“Jah, and that’s why I dropped by to see you. I haven't talked to you in some time.”
“It's always nice to see you. How is Elsa-May doing?”
“She's doing fine. She has a little dog, which keeps her occupied these days.”
“I’ve toyed with the idea of having another dog, but they’re so much trouble to look after.”
“That's true, sometimes they are, but they’re good company when you’re lonely. I never thought I would have another dog after Ginger died, and I suppose I haven't, since Snowy is Elsa-May’s dog.” Ettie jumped when a car horn sounded. “That’ll be my taxi.” She was sure she’d only been there for five minutes. “I must go. I'll talk to you again soon.”
“Please visit again, I don't get many visitors and I don't get out to many meetings anymore.”
Ettie felt a little sad for Gladys living there by herself sewing day in, day out, just so she’d have something to do. Maybe Elsa-May wasn’t so hard to live with. “I'll be sure to bring Elsa-May next time. Here, I almost forgot about the cake I brought for you. It’s a sultana cake.” The least she could do was give Gladys the cake.
Amish Baby Mystery Page 2
