Ettie Smith Amish Mysteries Box Set 7

by Samantha Price

  “They would’ve had a list. Greta would’ve had all the entries listed,” Elsa-May said.

  Leonora looked at Elsa-May and made no comment. Then she said to Ettie, “It was mine and I had every right to not have it taken. Do you know how long that took me to sew? Do you know how much money that owes me? I could’ve sold it for a lot of money. Now I’ll probably never get any money for it, and that’s if they ever return it.”

  They were still in the doorway and she hadn’t invited them in, but neither had Leonora slammed the door in their faces.

  “Did you hear what Ettie said? She found out something about your quilt?”

  “There’s nothing to find out!”

  “Jah there was. You were hiding something in it.”

  Leonora fiddled with the neckline of her dress. “What are you talking about?”

  “I happen to know there was a pocket cleverly sewn in the corner of the quilt. A pocket someone wouldn’t have seen unless they knew where it was. What did you hide there?”

  “Nothing. I suppose you told the police?”

  “I don’t know what it was, so I couldn’t have told them anything. I was hoping you’d tell me before they figured it out and brought you in for more questioning.”

  “How do you know … who told you?” Leonora’s gold-flecked light-brown eyes flashed with anger.

  “I can’t say.”

  “No. That's not right! It concerns nobody but me.”

  “Was it drugs?” Elsa-May asked.

  “Nee. It certainly was not.”

  “Stolen money?”

  “Nee! What do you both think of me? I’ve never been so insulted in all my born days!” Leonora moved to close the door until Elsa-May held up her hand signaling her to stop.

  “It had to be something you didn’t want people to see. By the sound of it, something you shouldn’t have had.” Elsa-May’s lower jaw jutted out.

  Leonora’s chin tilted upward just as stubbornly. “I’m not saying anything.”

  Ettie took a step away and then turned back. “We could help you. Help you before the police figure out what you’ve done.”

  “I think you should both leave. I don’t think the bishop would be happy with either of you.”

  “Do you really want to bring the bishop in on this?”

  “Nee, only because it’s nonsense and I wouldn’t want to waste his time. Goodbye.”

  “We’re sorry to bother you then. Come along, Ettie.” Elsa-May turned and as she did so, pulled Ettie by the elbow. Ettie had no choice but to turn and follow. Ettie cringed when they were on the porch stairs and the door slammed shut behind them.

  Ettie and Elsa-May walked back to their waiting taxi and headed home.

  Chapter 18

  Later that night, Ettie was still quite bothered by the whole thing. “What do you think, Elsa-May?

  Elsa-May looked up from her knitting and adjusted her glasses. “What do I think about what in particular?”

  “What do you think about a person who would sew something in a quilt?

  “It’s very odd.”

  “I can’t think of why someone would possibly do something like that.”

  “Me either. It just doesn’t add up.” Ettie drummed her fingertips on her chin. “Unless there’s another reason for the pocket in the quilt. It wasn’t really a pocket if the thing was sewn up.”

  Elsa-May looked over the top of her glasses. “For such a good seamstress, it would’ve been deliberate. No one can accidentally sew a pocket.”

  “Jah, you’re right.”

  “As always.”

  Ettie grimaced. “Leonora had a section, call it a pocket, in her quilt where she may or may not have hidden something. The councilman picked up something and put it in his pocket.”

  Elsa-May raised her eyebrows and slowly lowered her knitting into her lap once more. “That’s right, Ettie. Do you think the two incidents were related?”

  “It’s possible. Jah, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Is that why she was so frantic to get her quilt out of there? She had left something there that he picked up. But wait.”

  “What, Ettie?”

  “Had she deliberately left something for him, specifically him I mean, or did he simply happen to see it and put it in his pocket?”

  “Did he look guilty when you saw him do it?”

  Ettie looked up at the ceiling and thought back to the moment when their eyes met. “He looked very guilty. I wouldn’t think he’d be the type to steal something—being an upstanding member of the council and all. She must’ve left something for him.”

  “Maybe. Unless we’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  Ettie rubbed her neck. “For now, let’s just assume that we’re right.”

  “If she was involved in the murder and her quilt played a part, wouldn’t she have destroyed the quilt?” Elsa-May asked.

  “How would she have explained its disappearance, knowing I saw the quilt and her taking it?”

  “Simple. She could have made up any number of things. She could even have said someone stole it.”

  “Flimsy excuse and the police wouldn’t have believed it. The real question is, do the councilor and Leonora know one another?”

  “They must. She wins the quilts competition every year, and he judges them every year. I’ve got it! She bribes him for first prize!”

  Ettie pressed her lips together. “Do you think she’d need to? Her quilts are always the best.”

  “What if she wants to keep it that way? She could’ve left money and you could’ve seen him putting the cash that she’d left into his pocket.” Elsa-May moved onto the edge of her seat. “Got it. Greta wrote checks to the boy and he gave them to the councilor.”

  Ettie shook her head. “What are you talking about? We’re not talking about Greta right now. And, if Greta had written checks to give to the councilor, why would’ve they have been made out to cash?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “What we need to do is find out how well they knew one another.”

  “The young man and the councilor?”

  “No! Forget the young man for the moment and forget Greta. At the moment, I’ve got to figure out this thing about Martin Cruise—he's the councilor—and Leonora.”

  “No need to shout, Ettie.”

  “Sorry.” Her sister sometimes brought out the worst in her.

  Elsa-May settled back in her chair and recommenced knitting. The secretive smile on her face let Ettie know she might’ve enjoyed annoying her.

  After a few moments of silence, Elsa-May said, “Finding out anything now might be difficult. I don’t think Leonora will talk to us anytime soon because she’s annoyed with you for telling the police that she took the quilt out of the tent, and you’ve scared Martin Cruise away.”

  “I know. Let me think about it. I’ll let the ideas marinate overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll need to go into town.”

  “Again?”

  “Jah.”

  “What for?”

  “I want to get some quilt-making things and some fabric.”

  Elsa-May stopped knitting and her mouth turned down at the corners. “You’re really serious about this?”

  “Jah, I told you I was.”

  “It’s not going to be something you do for a few days and lose interest, is it? Like the French knitting and the crochet?”

  Ettie’s mind drifted to the French knitting she’d done as a child of about eight or ten. How could Elsa-May possibly recall that? And, how could she possibly hold it against her that she wasn’t still French knitting after all these years? “I’d forgotten all about French knitting. That was the spool with the nails, and the knitting came out through the hole in the middle, like a cord, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I’ll finish the quilt. I’m excited about it. I guess it’ll take me a long time to make, but if I do a little every day I’ll get there eventually. You’ve got your knitting, and quiltin
g might be my thing.”

  “Okay, we’ll see.” Elsa-May went back to her one purl one plain.

  “Was I supposed to do it for the rest of my life?”

  Elsa-May stopped clicking her needles together. “What’s that?”

  “French knitting.”

  “Nee, it’s just one example of many. You do tend to start things and not finish them, and don’t ask me to name each and every one of them.”

  “I just try things and if I don’t like them why would I keep doing them?”

  “All right, Ettie.”

  Ettie clenched her jaw. “All right, what?”

  “All right. Forget I said it.”

  “Nee, I won’t. French knitting is for children. Why would I do a child’s thing for the rest of my life just to keep you happy?”

  “You wouldn’t do anything to keep me happy.”

  “Good.” Ettie knew this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. “Just as long as you know I do finish what I start.”

  “I know you do, Ettie. Except for the French knitting.”

  Ettie closed her eyes and put both hands over them. Sometimes her sister was impossible.

  Chapter 19

  Ettie and Elsa-May had just finished breakfast when a knock sounded on their door. Ettie left Elsa-May in the kitchen to start the washing up while she answered the door.

  When she opened the door, she saw Gabriel’s smiling face.

  “Wie gehts, Ettie.”

  “Hello, Gabriel. I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Good. I’ve come to tell you something I just found out.”

  “Ach, gut. Come in. I’m always interested to hear new things.”

  “I won’t stay, denke. I just found out when the funeral is. The funeral of Greta O’Toole.”

  “Oh, when is it?”

  “The day after tomorrow. I thought you might like to know.”

  “Denke for letting us know. Could you take us?”

  His mouth fell open. “Are you going?”

  “Jah. That is, if it’s not too far.”

  “It’s not far. Just in town, I believe. I can find out exactly where. Sure, I’ll take you.”

  “Denke. Are you sure you won’t come in? The water’s already boiled for a cup of kaffe.”

  “Nee, I won’t. I have a repair to tend to next door.”

  “Okay. I won’t keep you.”

  After she closed the door, she went back into the kitchen and picked up a dishtowel.

  “Who was that?”

  “Gabriel. He found out Greta’s funeral is the day after tomorrow.”

  “They must’ve released the body already.”

  “That’s right. He’s going to take us there.”

  “To Greta’s funeral? Are we going?”

  Ettie nodded. “We are. I’m not sure why you’re so surprised.”

  “I’m not. I just asked.”

  Ettie was excited to begin her sewing project. It brought back memories of them watching their mother cut out the fabric for quilts and then she’d give all the children their sewing tasks. It took many months, but at the end of their many evenings of family sewing they had a handsome quilt with many happy memories attached.

  They walked into Greta’s quilt store and the first person they saw was Valerie, Greta’s niece. Ettie was more than a little concerned when the smile left Valerie’s face when she saw them.

  She walked over to Elsa-May. “Did you take … never mind. This is not the time or the place, but I do have a friend, Carol, who was working in the library the day you came in.”

  “It’s good to have friends especially in the library.” Elsa-May smiled.

  Ettie stepped forward. It was no time for playing dumb. They had to apologize for what they’d done. “You know Carol?”

  Valerie nodded. “I know her very well.”

  “It’s a small world, isn’t it?” Elsa-May asked. “We know Carol and you know Carol.”

  When Valerie still looked upset, Ettie added, “My sister hasn’t been the same for quite some years. I do sincerely apologize if she did something inappropriate.”

  She looked between both of them. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I don’t like it. I’ve got a good mind to report you both to the police, but since I got the book back and nothing was stolen, I’ll let it slide. I’m sorry but I’ll have to ask you both to leave.”

  Ettie was saddened. She could understand her wanting Elsa-May to leave, but why her too? “But I want to start sewing a quilt and you have everything here that I’ll need.”

  “Please purchase your goods at another store.”

  Elsa-May said, “You’ll be turning away a paying customer.”

  “If you don’t leave, I’ll—”

  “We’re going,” Elsa-May said.

  Ettie and Elsa-May walked out of the store as quickly as they could.

  Elsa-May sighed once they were well away from the doorway. “She was so nice when we met her the other day.”

  “I don’t blame her for being like that. We did take the book out of her shop. Perhaps it would’ve been better to go about it another way. We can’t just take things without asking. We had no right to do that.”

  “There very well could’ve been a better way, but we had no time to think of it,” said Elsa-May.

  “I wonder if Valerie’s up to something.” Ettie stopped walking and looked back at the store.

  Elsa-May stopped when she noticed Ettie had. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because she’s not going to report us to the police. Why? Because she might be hiding something.”

  Elsa-May drew her eyebrows together. “She’s taking pity on us. Nothing was stolen or harmed in any way just like she said. The book was taken and brought back. And she probably wouldn’t like to report a couple of old ladies to the police.”

  “As well as that, I’m sure Kelly had her book there on his desk and she didn’t mention a word about it.” Ettie bit her lip. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come.”

  “That might have been best. Come along, Ettie. We’ll buy our goods at the competitor's store.”

  “We’ll have to. We won’t get any service from her.”

  They made their way to the nearest quilt store, which was six blocks away.

  “We’ll need to get quite a few things,” Ettie said as she stepped through the open double doors of Ann Maree’s Quilting Store.

  “Okay, as long as you finish what you start,” Elsa-May whispered into her ear.

  Before Ettie could remind her sister that she wasn’t eight years old anymore, a sales assistant was upon them.

  “Good morning, ladies. How can I help you on this bright and sunny day?”

  Ettie stood there staring at the woman from the opposition quilt store and memories from the day of Greta’s murder flooded back. After Greta had told her to head to either the green or the blue tent, she had turned and seen Greta talking to this woman. Was she now face-to-face with Greta’s killer?

  Chapter 20

  Ettie stood staring at the blonde woman in the quilt store, a possible killer, when she got a dig in the ribs from her sister. She realized she’d been standing there gawking without saying a word. Ettie cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to start on a quilt. I’ve got no idea what pattern I’m doing, but all I have is a pair of scissors and a sewing machine.”

  The blonde clapped her hands together. “Excellent! I’m Ann Maree, and I’ll help you in any way I can. You’ll need quite a few necessary tools.”

  “You’re the owner of the store?” Ettie asked.

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m Ann Maree of Ann Maree’s Quilting Store.”

  Did Ann Maree kill Greta to eliminate the opposition? pondered Ettie. Is the quilt business in town that competitive? While Ettie’s thoughts raced at one hundred miles per minute, Elsa-May’s prattles about nothing filled the silence.

  “We don’t sew much anymore, it’s been a long time since we’ve even brought the sewing machine out from
the cupboard by the kitchen door. Our daughters make our clothes for us and nowadays our clothing hardly ever wears out. We’ve been wearing the same dresses for years.”

  “Do we have anything besides scissors, Elsa-May?”

  “I’d dare say they’d be in the cupboard somewhere if we do.”

  “We probably gave them away years ago. I haven’t seen them. We’ll have to buy everything again.”

  “Perfect. Let’s see now.” Ann Maree picked up a box and placed it on top of the counter. “We have plenty of beautiful fabric for you to choose from, but what good is fabric if you don’t have tools?” Without waiting for a comment, she continued, “The first thing you’ll need is good fabric scissors.”

  “We have scissors,” Ettie told her.

  “I know you said that, but have you used them to cut anything besides fabric?”

  Ettie looked at Elsa-May.

  “Yes, we use them for everything,” Elsa-May said.

  “That’s no good. You’ll need these.” She took a pair of orange-handled ones off the shelf. “These are our best. Now don’t go using them on paper or anything else. Strictly for fabric only and nothing but fabric.”

  Ettie nodded when Ann Maree stared at her waiting for agreement.

  “Now you’ll also need some snips to cut those pesky tiny threads. Two different sized snips.”

  “We need snips as well as scissors?” Elsa-May asked.

  “Yes.” She popped them into the box. “Pins. Who could do without pins? I suggest these ones. They’re the finest quality. They have glass heads.” Just as Ettie and Elsa-May were looking at them, she turned and placed them into the box. “You can never have too many pins. If you have pins, what else do you need?” She asked the question in a schoolteacher manner, wanting them to answer.

  “Something to jab them into?” asked Elsa-May.

  “Pincushions. I always use two when I’m quilting. One by the ironing board and one by my sewing machine. Do you have an ironing board?” she asked Ettie.

  “Yes, and an iron,” Elsa-May answered.

  “Two pincushions, then?” Ann Maree asked.