“I still haven’t finished discussing the suspects.”
I took my coffee to the table and sat down.
Eleanor yawned and stretched. “Who do we have? Horatio and Francis, and Cynthia, Gemma’s best friend. It’s strange she and Gemma had a falling out and then became friends again just before Gemma was murdered.”
Matilda quirked one eyebrow. “You think they still had a falling out and Cynthia went there to murder her?”
“That’s a possibility we need to consider,” I said. “And Cynthia said it was over a man. Of course, she might have been lying.”
“They’re all lying, as far as we know.” Matilda drummed two fingers on the table. “And then there’s Digby Thompson and his wife, Paisley. We’ve heard that Gemma was having an affair with Digby. Maybe Cynthia was having an affair with Digby too, so she decided to murder Gemma to get her out of the way.”
That didn’t make sense to me and I said so. “Then wouldn’t Cynthia murder Paisley instead of Gemma?”
Eleanor agreed. “Or she would murder Gemma and Paisley.”
“Paisley might be the murderer,” Matilda said. “She found out her husband was having an affair with Gemma, so decided to murder Gemma.”
I spooned some more sugar into my coffee. I figured I needed it. “But why wouldn’t Paisley murder her husband instead?”
Both Eleanor and Matilda shook their heads vigorously. “For some reason, women don’t blame their husbands when they discover they’re having affairs,” Matilda pointed out. “They usually blame the other woman.”
“When I found out my husband was having an affair, I blamed him,” I said, “not his junior, ever-so-young bride-to-be, Cherri.” I pulled a face.
Matilda waved her hand at me in dismissal. “Sure, but most women place the blame firmly at the feet of the other woman.”
I thought back to all the TV shows I had seen. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” Matilda said dismissively. “Now, those are the only suspects we have?”
She held up her hands and ticked them off one by one on her fingers. “Horatio, who has an alibi but might have been working with somebody else. Francis, who bought all the prize goats cheaply from Horatio. Digby Thompson, Gemma’s alleged lover. Paisley, Digby’s wife, who would also have a motive. And Cynthia, whose motive we don’t yet know, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t have the best one of all. Have I forgotten anybody?”
“Aaron Alexander!” I said so loudly that both women jumped. “We have forgotten him! He’s gone under the radar. It might have been him, and he’s renting the apartment from my sister. What if he’s the murderer?” I trembled.
Matilda leaned forward and patted my hand. “Calm your farm, Jane. My instincts tell me he’s not the murderer.”
“When have your instincts ever been right, Matilda?” Eleanor said.
Matilda rounded on her furiously. “My instincts are always right!”
I interjected. “We had better get ready to go to the market.”
“But it’s too early.” Matilda pointed out the window. “The sun has only just come up.”
“We had better check the goats first. We want to make sure they haven’t escaped from their field. Rebecca and Ephraim would be most unhappy if the goats got out.”
“Yes, it would be nice to walk along and check the fence line,” Matilda said.
Eleanor looked as though she strongly disagreed, but she wisely kept her opinions to herself.
Soon, the three of us were suitably dressed and walking to the goat’s field. “They all look happy enough,” Matilda said, “except Gigi is back to her normal dirty self. And I, for one, don’t want to shampoo her again.”
“You didn’t shampoo her the first time,” Eleanor said.
“I’m sure Gigi is much happier being left to her own devices,” I said quickly. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to be a show goat.” To my relief, both sisters readily agreed.
“I’m still thinking about the shot glasses.” Eleanor tapped her chin. “The murderer had to be somebody who Gemma would do shots with, such as a friend. You don’t do shots with strangers.”
“Still, that could be anybody. It doesn’t rule anybody out.”
I agreed with Matilda. “No wonder Detective Stirling hasn’t solved the case yet. This is a hard one.”
“He has access to more information than we do,” Matilda said. “Did Damon give you any clues as to the status of the investigation?”
I felt my cheeks burn. “No, he didn’t. Anyway, let’s have breakfast and then go to the market.”
“We’ve already had breakfast.” Matilda looked me as though I had gone mad.
“I always have coffee very early and then I have a proper breakfast later,” I said. “I haven’t had my breakfast.”
After breakfast, I drove to the markets. I was feeling restless and nervous about Aaron. Just because he loved animals didn’t mean he wasn’t a murderer. I had seen a documentary on TV where everybody thought a serial killer was a sweet man because he always rescued ants from puddles. It turned out he didn’t feel the same way toward people. No, I was going to keep my eye firmly on Aaron.
The market was to be held in one of the parks on the edge of town. When we arrived, we saw row after row of Amish buggies.
“See, we’re not early after all,” Eleanor said.
Matilda chuckled. “Yes, we are. The Amish will always be here before anybody else.”
Rebecca was already setting up her stall. I handed her the flask of coffee I’d brought for her. She thanked me. “Aaron has been a big help to me. He brought the cupcakes from the store in his car.”
“Aaron!” I said, alarmed. “What’s he done?”
“He helped bring all these cupcakes from the store for me this morning,” she said. “I just said that.”
“But I would have done that. Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Because Aaron lives above the store.” Rebecca looked up briefly while setting out the cupcakes.
I shot Matilda a pointed look. She nodded to show she had taken my meaning. “Is Aaron here now?” she asked Rebecca.
She dusted off her apron and looked around. “I don’t know.” She went back to her business.
“Let’s look around and see if we can spot any of the suspects,” Matilda suggested to me in little more than a whisper. “That will give us an opportunity to question them.”
We had only gone a few steps when we all but bumped into Aaron who was rounding a corner. He did look genuinely pleased to see us.
“You don’t have your cat with you.” He almost sounded disappointed.
“No, I thought it might be too crowded for him,” Eleanor said.
“I’m running another beginner class this afternoon. You should have had an email about it. Are you bringing him?”
Eleanor’s hands flew to her head. “I had completely forgotten about that! Yes, of course, I’m bringing him.”
We had all forgotten about the Pet Protection classes. That was a good opportunity to spend more time with Aaron to observe and to question him.
“That is, if the police don’t want to question me again,” Eleanor said, plastering a fake downcast look on her face for the benefit of Aaron. “Have they questioned you again?”
Aaron gave no indication that he found her question suspicious. “No, they haven’t. Maybe they’ve caught whoever it is.”
“Surely we would have heard if they had,” I said.
He nodded slowly. “I hope they catch whoever did it. Gemma was really mean, but she didn’t deserve to die.” With that, he nodded before hurrying away.
I watched his departing back. “You know, he could have had any number of motives.”
“Like what?” Eleanor asked me.
“Like, he said Gemma was mean. Maybe she had already given him notice and he pretended to us it was Horatio. Maybe she did treat him unfairly. Maybe she withheld his wages. Maybe she discovered a secret in his past and he
had to do away with her before she told anybody.”
“But that’s all supposition,” Matilda said.
“But we do need to consider it,” Eleanor said. “The murderer had to be one of our suspects. And yet, we still don’t know who it is.”
Chapter 18
Matilda, Eleanor, Mr. Crumbles, and I were once more at one of Aaron’s Pet Protection training sessions. Matilda and I were sitting off to one side. I regarded all the large dogs with trepidation. They looked more like guard dogs than pets. Even though these were the same people who had been in the previous session, Aaron once more went through his long speech. I supposed it was necessary, but it wasn’t necessary for me to hear it. I pulled out my phone and searched all the suspects’ names once more and then searched Gemma’s name.
Matilda noticed what I was doing and then did the same thing. After about five minutes, I looked up. Aaron was still speaking. The dogs had gone to sleep and so, I assume, had most of their owners. Eleanor was listening with rapt attention and was holding Mr. Crumbles. As I watched, he tried to get away several times, so she gave him treats.
“I’m sure this is a complete waste of time,” Matilda said, stifling a yawn.
I too yawned and stretched. “There’s no point attending these classes. We won’t find out anything more about Aaron by coming here. And I’m still worried about him renting Rebecca’s apartment.”
Matilda nodded. “I know you are. Cookie?” She reached into her purse and pulled out some cookies.
“Thanks.” I took one and chewed it too quickly. It tickled my throat, so I coughed. Matilda jumped to her feet and banged me on my back despite my protests.
“I’m all right,” I said when I managed to find my voice. “You know, this murder has got me stumped. Horatio had the most obvious motive, but he has an alibi.”
“Yes, he inherited everything, and her life insurance went to him too.”
“Life insurance!” I shrieked. “Why didn’t you tell me she had life insurance?”
“I assumed you knew. It will make Horatio a millionaire.”
“Even more of a millionaire,” I corrected her. “Just her house and her assets alone would surely be worth more than a million.”
“That’s a few million good reasons to murder somebody.” Matilda smiled and nodded as she spoke.
“But Horatio has an undeniable alibi,” I said. “Matilda, we need to check up on that. I know we mentioned it before, but we really need to go to the newspaper and find out the circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It could give us some information we haven’t uncovered yet.”
Matilda patted my knee. “You’re getting better at this, Jane. I should have thought of that myself.”
I looked back up at the class. Aaron was making them do basic obedience training again. Every time a dog got close to Mr. Crumbles, he lashed out with one paw. Soon, all the dogs were giving him a wide berth.
“You know, cats would have been good in sieges,” Matilda said.
I had no idea what she meant, so I asked for clarification.
“Well, when the besieged people ran out of boiling oil, they could have dropped cats on people’s faces, of course,” Matilda said. “Imagine a vicious cat landing on your face! You certainly wouldn’t want to continue storming a fortress then.”
I had to laugh. “Maybe Aaron should do specific cat attack training sessions.”
I thought Matilda would laugh too, but she said, “You know, I think that’s a great idea! I must bring that up with him at dinner tonight.”
“Dinner tonight? Whatever are you talking about? Did you invite him to have dinner with us tonight?”
“Of course not. Rebecca has invited us all.”
“And Aaron?”
She nodded. “And don’t frown like that, Jane. It will give you even more wrinkles. It’s a good opportunity to get more information out of him.”
“What if he’s the murderer? A murderer, renting the apartment from Rebecca?”
Matilda waved her finger at me. “All the more reason why we need to solve this quickly. Detective Stirling hasn’t solved it yet, has he!”
“I suppose so,” I said.
And so, hours later, I found myself sitting in Rebecca’s living room, sipping meadow tea and waiting for Aaron to arrive. Matilda and Eleanor were helping Rebecca in the kitchen and had left me to wait for Aaron. I could have done both, but they had insisted. Rebecca’s husband, Ephraim, was not to arrive for another hour or so.
Finally, there was a loud knock on the door, and I crossed to open it. I paused halfway, suddenly afraid it would be Detective Stirling wanting to question us further. I was relieved a little when I opened the door and saw it was Aaron. I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Come in, won’t you.”
He came inside and looked around. “I’ve never been in an Amish house before,” he said. I could see he was doing his best not to stare. Not that there was much to stare at in an Amish home—there wasn’t exactly an overabundance of furniture or decoration in such houses.
The floors were timber. The couches were plain, although one did have a Star of Bethlehem quilt that Rebecca had made over it. Plain blue curtains hung from the windows. There was a large wooden clock on the wall. A beige, short-pile floor rug sat under the coffee table between the two couches. Noticeably absent was the hum of electricity.
Rebecca, Matilda, and Eleanor walked in. “Hiya, Aaron,” Rebecca said. “Have you had meadow tea before?”
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “What does it taste like?”
“Peppermint,” I said as Rebecca handed him a cup. He looked doubtful, but after he sipped some, his face relaxed. “It’s actually quite nice, and I don’t like herbal tea. This is quite strong though. I like it.”
“Well, I’ll just see to the dinner,” Rebecca said and then vanished. This time Matilda and Eleanor sat with me on the couch.
“I’m a little bit nervous,” Aaron said in hushed tones. “What do I have to do so as not to offend Rebecca and her husband?”
“Obviously, you mustn’t swear or blaspheme or take the Lord’s name in vain,” Matilda said.
“And before and after the meal there is a silent prayer,” I told him. “Just follow Ephraim’s lead. Before anyone eats, we will all close our eyes, and then we open our eyes a minute or so later.”
Aaron appeared alarmed. “How will I know when to open my eyes?”
“I’ll kick you under the table if I can reach,” Eleanor said cheerfully.
Aaron looked even more alarmed.
“Recite the Lord’s Prayer silently,” I told him. “That’s usually about the time it takes. And if you don’t open your eyes by the time everybody else has, Eleanor can clear her throat to signal you.”
Aaron shot Eleanor a grateful look. “Is that all I need to know?”
I nodded. “You’ll be all right.”
Matilda piped up. “Aaron, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Jane and I discussed this while we were watching your class today, and I wondered if you should have Pet Protection classes just for cats.”
Aaron’s hand flew to his throat. He looked even more shocked now. “Cats!” he said in horror.
Matilda pushed on. “Yes, Mr. Crumbles is doing well in your class.”
Aaron grimaced. “Mr. Crumbles is a most unusual cat, and we haven’t started defense classes yet.”
“By defense, I assume you mean attack,” Eleanor said. “I will have you know, Mr. Crumbles has already saved Jane’s life on three separate occasions.”
“You already told me about that—at some length.” Aaron wiped his hand over his brow. “I doubt I could train a cat to do what Mr. Crumbles did. It must come naturally to him.” He pulled a face.
Eleanor narrowed her eyes, but Matilda seemed unconcerned. “Yes, I was telling Jane that cats would be good in a siege situation.”
I actually felt sorry for Aaron. His jaw fell open. It took him
a moment or two to recover. “A siege situation?” he repeated. His eyes darted from side to side.
Matilda nodded. “Imagine if you were in a fortress and people were climbing up your walls and you had run out of boiling oil to pour on them. You could drop cats on their faces.”
A sudden urge to laugh overwhelmed me. I clutched my stomach and hurried out of the room. When I got to the kitchen, I sucked in deep breaths.
“Is something the matter?” Rebecca asked me, searching my face.
“Matilda,” I said, when I figured I could speak without laughing hysterically. “She has poor Aaron cornered and she’s suggesting that people in siege situations should drop cats on people’s faces.”
Rebecca did not appear interested in the least. “Here, Jane. Could you put this on the table for me?” She handed me a large loaf of homemade bread.
I took it from her and walked back out. Aaron was busy explaining to Matilda that people don’t storm fortresses these days.
Matilda seemed quite put out. “Obviously, I know that. It’s the principal, don’t you see?”
“Oh yes, I see,” Aaron muttered, although it was clear that he didn’t.
The door opened, and Ephraim strode in. “Nice to see you all again,” he said. “Hullo, Aaron.”
Aaron jumped up and shook his hand.
“I was able to get home sooner than I expected,” Ephraim said. “Hiya Rebecca, Matilda, and Eleanor. Wie gehts?”
“We’re gut, denki,” Eleanor said with a smirk at Matilda.
Rebecca walked out. “Ephraim! You’re home early.” She beamed from ear to ear.
“I was just going back to the kitchen to help you,” I said.
Soon we were all sitting around the table. Aaron came through the silent prayer unscathed, even though after Eleanor had cleared her throat, he had yelped and said ‘Ouch!’ Given that she was sitting opposite him, I suppose she had delivered a kick to his shins.
The table was laden with pickled beets, chow chow relish, schnitz und knepp, and a layered lettuce salad. The dessert, Amish Funny Cake Pie, was sitting there too and would later be joined by vanilla ice cream.
“You’re such a good cook, Rebecca,” Aaron said. “You’ve been so kind to me, leasing me the apartment with me being a complete stranger.”
Speak With Confection: An Amish Cupcake Cozy Mystery Page 10
