by Mary Barbee
Whatever it was that positioned Anna and Beth in this light among the community, they felt privileged. Welcome guests came often, no announcement ever necessary, seeking advice and opening up about their darkest worries. Sometimes, Beth felt like an endless well absorbing and soaking in droplets of everyone's secrets. She wondered if she would ever feel full, but she was confident it wouldn’t be anytime soon. Both of the sisters loved the interpersonal connections and were so grateful to have been assigned a life mission of problem solving and helping good people.
"Be careful, Esther!" Beth said to her granddaughter sternly, but with a sprinkle of warmth. Esther was a spitfire at three years old, with fine golden hair that looked like feathers and beautiful blue eyes that would melt any grandmother’s heart. The little girl was precariously making her way up the tall stool to reach the kitchen table. Beth swooped in and grabbed her around the waist with one arm just as she lost her footing.
"But Mammi, I want to see what you are doing," Esther whined. Beth set her safely down on the counter next to her. Her mind was fixated on trying to figure out what the girl was telling Anna, but she kept a close eye on Esther at the same time. Finishing up the tea, she arranged the cups and teapot on a flower-patterned tray, making sure that each cup was in exactly the same position with their handles facing out and stacked on each saucer perfectly. Beth wouldn’t be satisfied unless each little detail was perfectly in line. Once in order, she placed Esther back on the floor and carried the tray out to the living room where the guests were waiting.
"Tea's ready," Beth called out as she went. The distraught young lady wiped the tears that ran down her face with the white handkerchief Anna graciously gave her. She struggled to subside the sobbing. Her name was Mary Yoder. She couldn't be more than twenty years old. Beth and her sister had attended her mother's funeral last spring. Mary had been very close with her mother, and now that her parents were gone, she was at a loss. Her brothers were overwhelmed with consoling her and were trying to marry her off.
"I don't want to marry Joseph. I've always wanted to marry Luke. He's the one I'm in love with. If I can't marry him, then I don’t want to marry anyone else." Mary said with a quiet conviction, her full lips were set in a strong pout. “What can I do to make them understand?” Worry carved faded lines onto the smooth skin of her forehead. She fidgeted anxiously with the handkerchief, folding it and unfolding it over and over again.
Mary reminded Beth of her second daughter, Judith. Judith was also stubborn and determined like Mary. Oh, how she gave Beth so much trouble when it came time to settle down with her husband. Now, she was married and living in another town with her husband. She was pretty sure that Judith had found happiness at last, but thinking now, Beth realized the last time she had heard from Judith was a few weeks ago. She made a mental note to pay a visit to her soon.
"Why are your brothers refusing to allow you to court Luke?" Anna asked. Mary’s palms were clenched into fists, gripping the white handkerchief firmly.
"They say he is unfit to take care of me. But he can - I know he can! Luke is the hardest working man I've ever met. He is just having a little bad luck with his father's farm right now. He works on it, but the land never brings forth any harvest. I’ve suggested that maybe the land is cursed but he wouldn't hear of it," she lowered her voice to add that last part.
Beth restrained from outwardly rolling her eyes at the thought of a cursed land. Interestingly enough, Eli's farms, too, had once been thought to be infertile. At least they were until Eli took over the business from his father and turned everything around. Beth thought so highly of her sister’s husband. She adored both of the men in their lives and said a quick prayer of gratitude with the passing thoughts. Anna's voice interrupted her thoughts. Beth sipped her tea and struggled to pay attention.
"If he is not blessed in farming, maybe he could try a different craft?" Anna asked. Mary hesitated a minute before replying.
"I've tried to get him to give up, but Luke's just not going to abandon his father's land. It was passed on to him after his father died. He feels responsible towards it," she said. Anna nodded as she was processing the information.
"Then, maybe he could consider hiring someone with more experience or reach out to an elder for more mentorship? It seems to me that Luke may be missing some key knowledge," Beth chimed in without an invitation.
Anna smiled approvingly at her and added, “There is certainly no shame in asking for help.” Beth returned Anna’s warm smile. Once again, the twins were on the same page with one quick glance.
"Oh, I'll mention that to him! Do you think he'll listen to me and take advice?" Mary cried. Mary was crippled with doubt as she wasn’t truly sure if Luke held feelings as strongly for her as she felt about him. The whole situation was so stressful, and she was not prepared for navigating courting and relationships without her mother by her side.
Beth took a cup of hot tea and gently handed it to Mary.
"Here, take a sip," she encouraged her, using the motherly tone she used on her children and grandchildren. Mary listened and steam curled out of the cup as she took her first sip. The delicious tea seemed to immediately bring her comfort.
"There. Do you feel better?" Beth asked. Mary nodded enthusiastically; a small smile appeared on her face.
"Everyone always says our tea could make a widow feel better the night of her husband's death," Anna said with a sliver of pride. Beth agreed with her. When they were finished bragging about their tea, Anna took Mary's hand in hers. The girl's hands felt so smooth, youthful and untainted by cruel time.
"Dear Mary, it’s important that you understand that when a man loves you, he has to show that he does. You should never guess if he shares feelings for you by not only his words, but also his actions. Love is definitely not always easy and smooth, and it can be confusing because sometimes it feels like the best thing in the world. There will be a few bumps on the way. Those bumps are set there by Gotte to test our love and faith in each other. You have the faith in this relationship. You are willing to do whatever it takes to make it work. But it is important to make sure that he also has the faith and desire to make you happy, protect you, and make you feel loved. If he does not feel that way, then you must open your eyes and your heart to someone else. Maybe that is all your brothers are asking of you." Beth spoke slowly and with much compassion.
Mary's eyes misted again as new tears began to form. They just hung on the surface of her eyes, neither spilling over nor disappearing back. Anna had a worried look on her face as she watched Mary’s reaction. Beth was concerned, too. Had she sparked fear and doubt inside her? The truth, sometimes, can be bitter and hard to swallow, but she had hoped that she had delivered it with enough kindness.
"Ach du lieva... Mary, are you okay?" Beth asked hesitantly.
"You don't think Luke loves me?" she summoned the courage to ask. Beth and Anna exchanged glances before Anna reached out to retrieve the teacup and gently hold Mary’s free hand.
Anna leaned in to answer Mary’s question. "We cannot know that answer, my dear, but if you have to ask, maybe some more work is needed to find the truth. Mary, we are not asking that you should forget about your feelings for Luke and do what your brothers say and marry Joseph. We are asking that you think carefully. Test your faith in Luke. See if his love is as all-encompassing as it should be. Think with your head and not just your heart and see...."
Anna was interrupted by the sudden loud noise of the front door bursting open with such force that it hit the wall directly behind it. Sarah stood on the threshold looking disheveled with her hands around her pregnant belly. Her prayer kapp was loose on her head with stringlets of her brunette hair peeking out around her face and by her neck. Anna jumped up, nearly knocking over the tray of teacups and rushed towards her.
"Ach du lieva, Sarah! What’s going on? Are you okay?" she asked, frantic from worry and leading Sarah to a nearby rocking chair to sit. Sarah became overwhelmed with tears and sobbing, ca
tching her breath at the same time. Beth rushed to the kitchen to get a tall glass of water, while at the same time, asking her older granddaughters to gather the children outside to play.
Anna bent over Sarah and gave her a warm hug, mumbling prayers softly while removing Sarah’s shoes. She was summoning so much patience, but she wanted desperately to know what in the world was happening that had her oldest daughter in such turmoil.
Beth appeared with a glass of water. Sarah gulped the entire drink without stopping, gasping for air another time as she handed the empty glass back to Beth. Anna knelt before Sarah, waiting.
Sarah took one look at Anna, and the words rushed out of her mouth.
"It’s Moses. He's been taken." she said breathlessly. Shock fell on the house, and the twins once again communicated everything on their minds with one single glance. This cannot be good.
CHAPTER SIX
"WELL, WELL, WELL, WE meet again," Detective Stewart said slowly and theatrically. A short cigarette dangled from his lips. Up close, Moses saw the strong outlines of his face. He had a defined jawline and sharp cheekbones. Stubble decorated the lower half of his face, attempting to hide its better features. His teeth were yellow and not straight. He reeked of smoke and leather.
Moses assumed that he was a man who liked to work alone when he sent Jude out of the room for the interrogation. Moses favored Jude a bit more than he cared for Derek McCall, the dead sheriff. He had witnessed Derek being outright rude to his fellow Amish brothers and sisters, but at least he could think of a few instances where Jude acted kindly to the community. The more he thought about it, he was starting to think that there may be quite a few people who wouldn’t care if Sheriff McCall were dead. Not that he would ever say that to this scowling man before him.
"Well, I'm glad you kept to your promise and reached out to me when you found him," he smirked, lighting the cigarette. Smoke danced in front of his face. He inhaled a short puff as if it were a cigar and blew it out, the smoke hitting Moses directly in his face. Moses coughed, annoyed, knowing that the smoke would cling to his beard.
"Not a smoker, I take it?" the detective asked knowingly, with a slight shrug of the shoulder. Moses glared at him.
"No, I don't smoke or drink," Moses said with a set jaw. The detective fell back on his chair, with an overly dramatic surprise expression.
"Well then, what are your vices? I mean, how do you relax after a long day of killing someone?" he asked. Moses clenched his fist under the table. Fear and anger surged inside him. What was this guy trying to do? Did he seriously think he killed Derek?
"You don’t have to worry about that because I have never killed anything in my life," Moses responded with a condescending tone. The detective laughed mockingly.
"You sure about that, Moses? Because the evidence is not looking good for you. Derek McCall, the county sheriff, was found dead as a doornail in your locked toolshed, brutally murdered with your hammer. I've got forensics running a DNA test on the fingerprints all over the hammer, and I am pretty confident the results will not work out well for you. This isn't a hard case to crack," he said confidently.
"It is my shed, and I made that hammer. Of course, my fingerprints may be at the scene and on the hammer, but I am telling you, Detective, I did not kill the sheriff. Please, you have to believe me. I am a family man. I have never even been involved in a fist fight" he said. The detective took a deep long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air.
"Why don't you tell me where you were last night and everything that happened up until you found poor Derek’s body lying dead in your tool shed?" he asked after a few minutes of silence that felt like forever. Moses took a deep breath, making an effort to clear his head, trying to figure out what to say to clear his name.
"Alright. Last night, I arrived home from work at my normal time, around 5 pm, ate dinner, relaxed at home, spent time with my children and my wife, and went to bed. This morning, I woke, ate breakfast, visited briefly with my wife and mother-in-law, and I left home late for work because I was working on my buggy. My wife's pregnant and needed the second buggy to go shopping.
On my way to work, I saw Mrs. Martha on the curb, waiting for her son-in-law to pick her up. We spoke a little about her grandson not feeling well, and then I went on my way straight to my store. After that pleasant conversation with you, I had a conversation with my new part-time helper at the store, Thomas. I sent him to the toolshed to find some tools I had set aside for a project in my community. He screamed when he got there. I ran outside to see what was happening, and then Thomas and I ran inside to call you guys for help," Moses told the story as he recalled it.
The detective was silent for a minute.
"Hmm...still...something seems off. I think that...." The detective stopped talking. Moses heard the same sounds he did. His wife, her mother, and her aunt were outside banging on the door of the sheriff’s office and asking for the detective.
"They here for you?" the detective asked Moses. He nodded. The detective grunted loudly.
"I hate this part of my job. Dealing with the hysterical family is always such a pain in the neck, especially the Amish. You folks sure know how to stick together, don’t you? God forbid one of you is ever accused of a crime," the detective’s sarcasm was not lost on Moses.
The detective paused, staring unflinchingly at Moses who tried his best not to look guilty. The man was trying to fish out something from him, and Moses was determined not to give it to him. He was not a criminal, and he would not be accused of a crime he didn't commit. Even as a boy, Moses struggled with killing insects - the phrase ‘he couldn’t hurt a fly’ could quite literally be applied to him. How could anyone think he possibly killed someone? Let alone an officer of the law. Moses was a law-abiding man, just like his father.
Most importantly, this tragedy meant one thing: the town he loved and the community that resided there were not safe. There was a killer out there and the detective was in here, harassing Moses and wasting valuable time.
"Well then, I’m sure Jude will fill them in and let them know you probably won’t be home for dinner," the detective said, matter-of-factly. Moses’ heart began to race. He was very afraid and couldn’t understand why this was happening to him. He flinched as he could hear the conversations happening outside of the small room he was confined in with this terrible man.
"Where is he? Where have you taken him? My husband is not a killer. The real killer is still out there! He should be the one you are interrogating...not my husband. I've known Moses for almost twenty-five years. He is not a killer," Sarah erupted, full of fire. Moses could imagine her almost grabbing the deputy's collar.
Jude responded, "Lady, lady, lady, please calm down. We’re just doing our job. We have a lot of evidence against your husband, I’m sorry to tell you. A dead man's body was found in your husband's toolshed. The murder weapon was also found - and we’re running a DNA test on the prints. Please go home and take care of yourself and your children. You’re going to have to let us do our job. Please," the deputy said, sounding only a bit more comforting than the man Moses had been talking to for the last couple hours.
The air felt stale in the tiny room that was once a large closet but quickly turned into a pseudo interrogation room, only fitting a small square table and two chairs.
“Sir, what is your name?” Moses asked, trying very hard to not sound confrontational.
"Stewart. Name's Detective Stewart," he said, also sitting in silence, joining in listening to the interaction with Moses’ family but watching Moses’ reaction to all of it.
“Please, can I talk to my wife, Detective Stewart? My wife is pregnant and I’m sure it would be of comfort to see that I am okay and that all of this is just a mistake.”
“Absolutely not gonna happen, Moses. We’re not finished here, and if you don’t tell me what you know, then you might get to fill your family in over one short phone call,” the detective looked Moses dead in the face. He reached for the u
nopened bottle of water sitting on the table to the right of Moses and pushed it in his direction as to confirm that the two would be sitting there a while longer. Detective Stewart lit another cigarette, and Moses squeezed his hands into tight fists underneath the small square table. How could they put him- and his family- through this?
"Jude, I think someone's trying to frame my son-in-law. He didn't do this. Moses would never harm a soul. He doesn't have the heart to murder someone. And if it was him, why would he just leave the body lying in his tool shed for Thomas to find him? How could he possibly kill that man?" Anna was pleading to be heard.
"You let the right authorities worry about that, Ma'am. Why don't you go home and rest? We'll be speaking with all of you shortly, to corroborate his story. So, you’re gonna need to save the stories for then. Detective Stewart is in town for the purpose of this investigation, and as your friend, I am telling you that it’s best for you to go home. You don’t want to make things worse for Moses, and we’ll be in touch as soon as we know something more," Jude said, hoping that he was getting somewhere with the women. He recognized that the community and the local townsfolk had a lot of respect for these women and their family, and he didn’t want to rock the boat any more than Moses’ arrest already had.
Anna and Sarah were not satisfied with Jude’s suggestion, but Beth interjected, “We should go and let these men do their jobs, then.” She placed her arms around both ladies and gently escorted them out the door. She was hopeful that Moses would set the record straight and tell the detectives what they needed to know. She said a quick quiet prayer that the detectives would find the killer, and Moses would be home by dinner.
