“No, of course not,” I said, but at the same time I wondered why that was her immediate assumption. Did the Keim family have some kind of connection with the Rabers that made her think Daniel might have been involved? Eli Raber had gone to Daniel for help after his father died, so the two of them must be close friends. I knew I would have to find out more from Daniel.
“Gut,” she said. “I don’t want my great-grandson tangled up in any trouble again.”
For Emily’s sake, I didn’t want that either. My young Amish friend had been through enough.
“Daniel is in the barn doing chores. You’re welcome to visit him there. You know what a hard worker he is, and he won’t want to stop his chores to chat. I imagine he will speak to you while he mucks the stalls.”
I thanked Grandma Leah and walked to the barn. The flowers from the front garden perfumed the air as I went, and I inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent. Spring in Amish country was beautiful. Spring in New York was beautiful in its own right, but I had never had time to appreciate it when I was in the city, especially around Easter. While others were tiptoeing through the tulips in Central Park, I was trapped in JP Chocolates working fourteen-hour days, sometimes sleeping on a cot in the back room because it was easier than schlepping my tired body home at night. It was amazing to me how my life had changed in the last few months. I couldn’t help but wonder what the spring and summer would hold. I hoped no more death. I had had my fill of that.
Red-and-brown chickens flapped their wings and ran ahead of me as I made my way to the barn. They scattered when I reached the large barn door.
It was wide open. I knocked on the barn siding to let Daniel know I was there. “Daniel?”
Daniel Keim was a handsome young Amish man with round glasses perched on the end of his nose. Only married a month, he was still in the process of growing an Amish beard. At the moment, the beard resembled more of a patch of dirt on the end of his chin than any real facial hair. At nineteen, Daniel had married young by English standards, but in the Amish world he was considered a man at fourteen, so such youthful marriages were not unheard of, although they were becoming less common these days.
Despite their young age, I was happy that Emily and Daniel had found each other. In the time I’d known Emily, I had never seen her truly happy until she married Daniel. They were a good couple. Daniel doted on her every whim too, which didn’t hurt.
“Bailey, what are you doing here?” Daniel leaned on the handle of his shovel and pushed his glasses up his nose in a practiced move.
My eyes adjusted to the dim light of the barn. There was a battery-powered lantern that hung from an iron hook on the wall. Even though the sun hadn’t set yet, it was dark in the barn, which only had a few windows on the south side of the long building.
“Has something bad happened?” Daniel asked.
I blinked. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you obviously aren’t here to see Emily, and the only other time you come here is when something bad has happened.”
Was I like the Typhoid Mary of the Amish community? That wasn’t a reputation I wanted to have.
He straightened up and went back inside the stall that he had been cleaning out. “It’s about Eli’s father, isn’t it?”
I followed him over to the stall and rested my arms on the opposite side from where he was working. The smell of straw, manure, and animal sweat floated around me with every shovelful that Daniel dumped into the waiting wheelbarrow. “You were the one who sent Eli to me.”
He sighed. “Ya. He was very upset, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You could have told him to go to the police.” The stall wood dug into my forearms.
He glanced at me. His glasses were slipping down his nose again. “That is not our way.”
How well I knew that.
“Why did Eli come to you?” I asked. “You aren’t members of the same district.”
“But we are still friends, and he knew what happened to my mother.” He paused. “He thought I could help. That’s when I told him about you.”
I bit the inside of my lip. Daniel’s mother had been killed just before Christmas. I had discovered who was behind her murder. Considering the Amish aversion to English authority, it made sense that he’d told Eli to talk to me instead of Aiden or the police.
“When was this?”
He frowned. “Yesterday, just after midday. I had finished my supper and was going back out to check the fields when he rode up in his father’s buggy.”
That must have been right after I’d seen Eli on the square, where his father had collapsed. He must have run straight to Daniel. “What did he say?”
Daniel shrugged and went back to shoveling. “He told me what happened to his father. I thought maybe it was a heart attack. Everyone in the district knows that Stephen had a weak heart. We took up a collection several years ago so that he could have a heart procedure at the hospital.”
I nodded, thinking this over. The Amish didn’t have health insurance. Their health insurance was essentially their community. Whenever one of them became ill and needed medical treatment, they took up a collection to help the family pay the medical bills.
“But Eli didn’t think it was a heart attack,” I said.
A calico barn cat wove around my feet.
Daniel dropped another shovelful into the wheelbarrow. “Nee. He thought it was something like what had happened to my mother.”
“Did he tell you why he thought that?” I moved my leg and accidentally scared the cat away.
“Nee, and I didn’t want to know. I told him to see you because I knew you would be the Englischer who could help him.”
“Did he tell you about any notes?” It was hard for me to believe that Daniel had sent his friend away without asking more questions. If he were English I would have doubted it completely. However, the Amish are far less likely to pry.
Daniel shifted his stance and picked up the shovel again. The metal scraped against the concrete floor of the stall, and I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. “He tried.”
“Did you read them?”
“Nee. I said I didn’t want to know about his family’s private affairs, so I told him how you had helped Emily and me and sent him to you. I told him that we would pray for him, but we didn’t want any more to do with it. Both Emily and I have had enough to deal with these last several months. I told him I was sorry, but we couldn’t take anything else on.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw something white dash around the barn floor. I jumped and knocked my right knee against the side of the stall.
Chapter 16
Daniel dropped his shovel. “What has happened?”
I looked down to see what had scared me and expected to see a large white rabbit with a bright pink bow around her neck. “Puff?”
How did the rabbit get here from my house? I wondered.
Daniel leaned over the side of the stall. “Puff? What do you mean? That’s one of the barn cats. I think it’s Eliza. Emily has taken to naming them all. You know how she loves cats.”
I did. Emily’s heart had broken when she had to give Nutmeg to me because her brother said she could no longer keep the little orange tabby.
“Oh, for a moment, I thought it was Puff, Stephen Raber’s rabbit.”
He stepped out of the stall and looked for the cat.
The white cat sat on a hay bale near the cow stall. The large jersey cow mooed as if annoyed by her new visitor.
“It’s just Eliza. I’m glad it wasn’t the rabbit. I told Eli that I couldn’t take his father’s rabbit.” He clicked his tongue at the cat, and she meowed in reply. I had a sense it was a conversation they had often.
“Eli tried to leave Puff with you?”
He nodded and walked back into the stall to pick up his shovel again. That was interesting to learn. Did Eli not want his father’s favorite rabbit at all? I bit the inside of my lip. I hoped that Eli didn’t think Puff was p
ermanently rehomed with me. I couldn’t take on another pet either. I was away from the county for weeks at a time. I couldn’t ask my grandmother to take on the care of yet another animal while I was away. I had already adopted Nutmeg since moving to the village, and now the orange tabby lived with Maami full time. I shook my head and resolved to worry about that later.
He shrugged. “He said he needed a place for her to be safe while he sorted things out, but again, I told him it could not be with me. We can’t get involved.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. I thought the best course of action was to ignore his comment. “I know you said you don’t want to be involved in what happened to Stephen, but you sent Eli my way, so I need you to help me out a little bit.”
“I suppose I did,” he said slowly, as if it was something that he regretted doing.
“Do you know any reason why someone would have wanted to kill Stephen Raber?”
He shook his head. “Everyone liked Stephen. I told you about his heart procedure. It was no trouble at all to collect the money he needed to pay his medical bills. Every member of his district and many others, including mine, was willing to contribute. That is our way, but it was also because of who Stephen was. He was one of the friendliest men you’d ever meet. Sometimes, people complained that he would have been better off if he had been born Englisch rather than Amish.”
I wrinkled my brow. “Why’s that?”
“His demeanor. He was friendly to everyone. I’m sure that you’ve noticed that in general we Amish can be a little standoffish to people, especially to Englisch people we don’t know.”
I had noticed that. Not so much with myself, but with tourists who stopped the Amish on the street and asked them questions. I think I got a pass because of my Amish grandparents. Jebidiah and Clara King were much beloved in the county.
“Stephen would talk to anyone, and he didn’t mind being photographed by Englischers even if it is forbidden. So”—he paused—“the only complaint against Stephen would be that he was too friendly.”
I chewed on this for a moment. “Could he have been murdered for friendliness?”
Daniel was thoughtful. “Nee, it’s not a gut reason to kill someone. It might get him in trouble with his deacon from time to time but would result in nothing more than a smack on the hand. There are many ways to make an Amish man behave before resorting to murder. He might have been shunned if he got too carried away, but for the most part, I think his deacon and bishop turned a blind eye to his behavior because they liked Stephen just as everyone else did.”
He leaned over the side of the stall. “Maybe that wasn’t the only thing the bishop ignored about Stephen. He treated that rabbit more like a child than an animal.” He shook his head as if the very idea was ridiculous. “My wife is much the same way with her cats.”
“I got the sense that he cared for all the rabbits, but Puff received extra attention,” I mused.
“Eli told me that Puff’s mother was killed by a hawk just a few hours after Puff was born.”
I made a face.
“Stephen took her into the house and raised her on a bottle. When she was weaned, he should have put her out in the barn with the other rabbits but could never bring himself to do it. Eli was embarrassed by how his father fussed over that rabbit.” He shook his head as if Stephen’s adopting Puff as a pet was some sort of great failing on the bunny farmer’s part.
Could that be the reason that Eli had wanted to unload Puff on Daniel or me? Because he thought his father gave Puff too much special attention? Was he jealous of the white rabbit?
Personally, I liked Stephen even more after hearing how he’d cared for his animals. He sounded like he had been a well-beloved and kind man, which made it all the odder that he should have received those threatening notes. What had he done? Clearly, Daniel Keim did not know. “Where is the Rabers’ farm?”
“It’s on the edge of Millersburg, not too far from town actually. When Eli and I were young, we used to walk into Millersburg from his farm all the time. It’s on Route Sixty-two.”
Route 62 was one of the bigger roads in the county, so I knew the Raber farm would not be hard to find. I realized I would have to go there eventually. Maybe sooner rather than later. I wanted to give Eli his rabbit back before I grew too attached. I had a weakness for animals too. Maybe I could convince Daniel to take the rabbit?
“It’s funny that you mentioned Eli’s trying to leave Puff with you. He left her with me when he stopped by my house to talk about his dad.”
“I’m not surprised,” Daniel said, and began to shovel again.
“Don’t you think she would do much better here on the farm, where she could be around other animals?”
“No. No. No.” He shook his head. “I said no to Eli and say the same to you.”
“No, what?” I asked with as much innocence as I could muster.
His expression was firm. “I can’t take on another animal.”
“Neither can I,” I said. “I’m rarely home, and I’m in New York for weeks at a time.”
“But you have your grandmother and Charlotte to look out for your animals. Don’t they take care of Nutmeg, your cat, while you’re gone?”
“That’s different,” I said, even though I knew I was losing ground. “One cat is not as much work as two pets will be, and a cat and a rabbit in Swissmen Sweets would be like oil and water. What if Nutmeg chased the rabbit?”
He laughed. “That would never happen. Puff outweighs Nutmeg by six pounds at least. Besides, I can’t keep her without my father finding out. He won’t be pleased. He blames rabbits for any problems we might have on the farm.”
I grimaced. I knew this was true. All among the Christmas trees, there were rabbit snares to keep the rabbits down on the Keims’ farm. It wasn’t something I was completely comfortable with, especially after having seen what they could do. I saw a man trapped in one of those rabbit snares once. It was just around his ankle, but he had been in a lot of pain. It was hard to imagine what one of those snares could do to a rabbit like Puff. I could feel my resolve weakening.
Daniel must have sensed it too because he said, “It’s only for a few days. I’m certain Eli just needs time to sort out what he should do. You don’t want anything to happen to Puff, do you?”
“But I have a cat,” I protested, making one last gallant attempt to get out of this predicament. “Cats and rabbits don’t go together. It would be a disaster if the two came together.”
“And we have cats all over the farm. You just saw one. Also, Emily told me that you don’t live at the candy shop any longer, so the rabbit won’t be coming in contact with your cat.”
I inwardly groaned. There was no way I could lie to get out of this with his wife as a member of my candy shop staff. “That’s true, but I’m not home too often. Puff would be alone for much of the time, so I think I would have to take her to the shop during the day.”
“We have chores to do here on the farm, so it would not be like the rabbit had company here either. I don’t think she would mind being alone at your house.” He smiled. Daniel knew he was winning this argument, which was what I found the most infuriating part of the conversation. He knew he had won before we even got started.
“But there is Grandma Leah—maybe she would enjoy having the rabbit here,” I said, making a last attempt to get myself out of rabbit-sitting.
“My grandmother would be too afraid that she would trip over the rabbit if we took it into the house, and she has been feeling poorly ever since her fall and needing to walk with a cane. She can’t be tripping over an animal.”
I sighed. There was no going back now that he’d mentioned Grandma Leah’s fall. “All right. I’ll keep Puff for now.”
He smiled, looking very much like Nutmeg when Maami let the cat lick from the whipping cream bowl.
Chapter 17
I needed to track down Ruth Yoder to ask her about Eli’s mother and her death, but I was closer to the rabbit f
arm than the Yoder family furniture store where she might be. So instead of going to the furniture store, I headed to the rabbit farm, assuming that I would be able to find it with Eli’s description of its location.
There was a large sign on Route 62 in white with black lettering, announcing RABER’S RABBITS. Far back from the road, a small brick home stood with three small white barns behind the house. The barns were much smaller than other Amish barns I had seen in the county. Each one was a third of the size of the Keim family’s barn.
To the left of those barns was a huge aluminum grain silo that seemed to have fallen into disrepair. The door to it was open, and there wasn’t any grain inside that I could see.
I climbed out of the car, walked up to the brick house, and knocked on the door. As it was an Amish home, there was no doorbell. A large picture window was just left of the door. I peered inside but couldn’t make anything out in the dark space. Frowning, I circled the side of the house toward the first barn.
Like most Amish barns, this one wasn’t locked, and I easily pushed the heavy door open. The room smelled of sawdust and animals. There were dozens of cages in the space with rabbits sitting in each cage. The animals appeared to be well taken care of, but I didn’t see any sign of Eli. The second was much the same, but there were no rabbits. I suspected that this was where the bunnies that were at Easter Days lived. I was about to open the third barn door when a twig snapped behind me. I spun around.
“Are you finally doing something about this?” An English man of medium height with a drooping face scowled at me. “It’s about time you people did something.”
I still had my hand on the barn door. “Who are you?” I wanted to know. Perhaps my question came off as rude, but I couldn’t help it.
“Liam Zimmerman. I’ve been calling you all night and day hoping to get some type of response. You’re from the zoning board, aren’t you?”
“I—” I started to say that I wasn’t, but he didn’t give me a chance to continue.
“I’m glad that one of you has finally come here to do something about Raber’s new barn, which is clearly in violation of the county’s building codes.”
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