“No sign at all?” Fannie asked.
“None. As far as I could tell, nothing but her jacket is missing from her room, so she probably did not intend to leave the village. I believe it is time to raise the alarm. With everyone helping, we can do a village-wide search in quick order.”
“I agree.”
Fannie called to everyone to regather in the hallway, and she explained the situation. She sent the Believers and novitiates to search the buildings they knew best, while Theodore, looking more angry than worried, ordered the hired workers to search the farm buildings and all the abandoned buildings. With regret, Rose stayed behind so that anyone with news could report to her immediately. Gennie followed a group of sisters, and Helen Butterfield tagged along.
When the last of the searchers had left, Rose paced the empty hallway. Waiting idly was not in her nature. Whenever she passed a window, she peered out into the darkness. Light appeared and disappeared inside buildings and the swinging brightness of lanterns punctuated the outside air. The minutes passed with aching slowness. Rose almost expected dawn to appear in the east, but the hall clock told her it had been only half an hour.
She couldn’t stand the waiting much longer. She pulled on her galoshes, half inclined to step outside, but instead she resumed her pacing. As she looked out a corner window facing southeast, she saw a light emerge from the Round Stone Barn and begin to bounce toward the dwelling house. Someone was running. She grabbed her cloak and threw it around her shoulders without bothering to tie it around her neck.
Ignoring the paths, she ran toward the light. Sewell came into view. As soon as he recognized her, he stopped and bent over to catch his breath before she reached him.
“You’ve found her? Is she all right?”
Sewell straightened and held up his lantern, which gave his gaunt face an unearthly pallor.
“Sewell, tell me quickly.” Rose wanted so to grab his shoulders and shake him.
“She’s . . . she’s alive. Not by much, though, far as I can tell. She fell from the upper level of the Round Stone Barn—you know, from where we used to push hay down to the animals. She must have been ill and gotten dizzy or something.”
Fell or was pushed? “Did you move her?”
Sewell shook his head. “I put an old blanket over her, and I came right out to get you.”
“Good. Run now to the dwelling house and phone the doctor in Pittsfield. Tell him it’s an emergency, a girl’s life depends on him. Then tell the others to meet me in the barn. Go now!” Rose took the lamp from Sewell’s hand and sprinted awkwardly toward the Stone Barn, giving no heed to the snow that caked inside her galoshes.
Under a filthy blanket, Dulcie lay in a crumpled heap, her face drained of color. But she was still breathing. Rose lifted the blanket and looked her over, trying not to move her and risk worsening her injuries. She had landed on a pile of old hay, which might explain why she was still alive after such a fall. She had probably broken some ribs. Moving her out of the barn would be dangerous, but they couldn’t leave her here to freeze to death. She might also have a concussion and who knows how many other internal injuries. One could only pray that her back was not broken.
Rose noticed a wet spot on Dulcie’s dark blue dress. She ran her finger across it and smelled it. Blood. Gingerly, she lifted the girl’s skirt to her waist. Her undergarments were soaked with blood. Rose covered her quickly and sat back on her heels, fighting back tears. The baby. The baby was dead.
She heard shouts outside and knew the others had arrived. For the sake of Dulcie’s privacy, it would not do to let them all know about the baby. Not yet.
The barn door flew open, and, to Rose’s astonishment, the first person to enter was Helen Butterfield, who ran with surprising agility toward the injured girl. She knelt and took Dulcie’s pulse, then lifted the blanket before Rose could stop her. As the others approached, Helen quickly dropped the blanket.
“I’m a nurse by training,” she said. “This girl is alive but seriously injured. We need to move her with the utmost care. You two men,” she said, pointing to Johnny and Otis, “find another blanket and bring it back. We’ll make a sling and lift her onto it. Then we’ll have at least four men carry her back to the dwelling house with as little movement as possible. Go! Now!” she ordered, as Johnny and Otis hesitated. They took off, cooperating for once.
Helen pointed to Aldon and Theodore. “I’ll need you two to help carry her, when the others get back, so you stay put. The rest of you, I’ll need a room prepared for her, first floor. It must be warm, or at least bring extra blankets. In addition to her injuries, she’ll be in shock. Go on now, scoot!” Everyone obeyed, except Rose, who had other plans.
As Helen knelt again by her patient, Rose backed away. She left the barn after the others, but she did not follow them. Instead, she walked around the outside until she found the entrance to the next level, the one from which Dulcie had fallen. The door was slightly ajar, so she slipped inside without making any noise. She walked delicately to the edge of the fall-off and looked over. Directly underneath, Helen still bent over Dulcie, apparently taking her pulse again. Across the radius of the barn, Johnny and Otis were shaking out an old blanket they’d just found.
Rose pulled back from the edge and began her search. She had a strong hunch that everyone, including the police, would treat this as an accident—especially once they discovered Dulcie had been pregnant and hadn’t been well lately. They would assume she wanted some air, had a dizzy spell, and fell over the side. It was the most convenient story for everyone.
There was little light, so Rose dropped to her knees and examined the area from which Dulcie must have fallen. She was counting on the fact that no one had been available to sweep the barn for years. Bits of hay, dust, and dirt were scattered across the wood floor. She examined the floor inch by inch. By the time she heard Helen giving orders about how to lift Dulcie from the ground, Rose knew that her hopes had been in vain. She found evidence that someone had recently been there—wet spots indicated melted snow from boots or galoshes, and the heavy layer of dust had been pushed about. However, she couldn’t find anything that looked like skid marks that would indicate a struggle. She couldn’t even tell if more than one person had been up there recently. It was possible that the would-be killer had already subdued Dulcie and simply carried her into the barn to throw her down. That would explain what wasn’t there. But then, the police could only work with what was there.
Feeling discouraged and very alone, Rose stood and looked over the side. Four men were lifting Dulcie, who was wrapped in a blanket so she would move as little as possible. Helen guided them, her hands waving about as if she didn’t quite trust the men to be careful enough. Finally, eight strong arms securely held the Dulcie bundle, and the group moved like a centipede toward the barn door. Helen watched them leave, then glanced back at the hay on which Dulcie had fallen. She crouched down, pushed the hay aside, as if she’d spotted something. She picked up a small object and stowed it in her coat pocket. Kicking the hay back into a pile, she followed the others out of the barn.
EIGHTEEN
“IT WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT. THAT’S WHAT THE DOCTOR AND the police both said.” Johnny Jenkins’s gaze flicked up at Rose and back again to his journal, where he was listing a series of numbers. Since they were in the Brethren’s Workshop, surrounded by thin strips of wood, she assumed he was recording the production of oval boxes for sale to the world.
“Nevertheless,” Rose said, “I want to know where you were yesterday afternoon between two and the time we gathered for the evening meal.” She did not bother to justify her request. Johnny was a novitiate and should by now have grasped the need for obedience to an eldress, even if she was from a different village.
Johnny paused just long enough to be insolent before putting down his pen. “Yesterday afternoon, I was, as usual, working. I came here immediately following the noon meal, and Aldon and I worked on oval boxes until the bell rang for the evenin
g meal. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“Did either of you leave the building at any time?”
Johnny’s jaw tightened. “We are not in the habit of interrupting our work for pleasure outings,” he said.
“You might have needed something in another building. Perhaps one of you carried some items over to the Fancy Goods Store?”
“We did not leave the building.” He picked up his pen, signaling the interview was over.
Though she prayed for patience, Rose felt her own pride tripping her, clouding her mind. As Johnny began writing again, she stood her ground and willed her temper to cool. Too much depended on her ability to find the truth. Dulcie hovered between life and death. If her “accident” was really a murder attempt, she was still in danger. There was no time for injured pride.
“That’s good,” she said. “The doctor and the police may be quite right, of course, but you can understand why I want to be certain Dulcie was alone when she fell.”
Johnny’s pen hesitated above the page. “Dulcie did sometimes go to the Round Stone Barn alone, you know,” he said.
“I didn’t know.”
Johnny tapped the top of his pen on the desktop. “I saw her go in alone, now and then. I can’t imagine why she would choose such a cold place, but maybe she thought no one would think to look for her there. So I’m not surprised that’s where her accident happened.”
“Did you ever see her go there with anyone else?”
Johnny shrugged. “Sorry. Now I really must get back to work.”
“Of course.”
Rose descended to the first floor of the Brethren’s Workshop and found that Aldon had arrived to make brooms. Apparently, brooms were just as irritating to him as oval boxes had been, because his aristocratic face puckered in a frown. His frown deepened at Rose’s question.
“Johnny and I worked together all afternoon,” Aldon confirmed.
“And neither of you left the building for any reason? To deliver finished items to the store, anything at all?”
“I do not lie.”
“Of course not. But when one is working intently, the memory can falter.”
“Not mine.”
“I see. Then I won’t keep you longer from your work.” When she reached the door, she turned back to Aldon. “Just one last question,” she said. “Were you aware that Dulcie sometimes visited the Round Stone Barn alone?”
“Unlike some others, I took no notice of Dulcie’s comings and goings, nor those of any other female.”
“Which others took more notice of her?”
Aldon picked up some broom straw and stuffed it awkwardly in the winder. “I should think her fiancé would be better able to tell you her habits.”
“I see. Thank you for your help.”
So Aldon and Johnny alibi each other for the time of Dulcie’s “accident,” Rose thought as she crunched through the snow toward the Barn Complex. And Aldon seemed to hope she would look with suspicion on Theodore. She might as well follow the lead, vague as it was. She had no other ideas at the moment.
She found Theodore and Otis inside the Barn Complex, cleaning and repairing some farming equipment, so they would be ready when spring arrived. With Theodore nearby, Otis appeared to be hard at work. They both looked up at the same time as she approached them. Theodore gave her a cold stare, while Otis’s face crinkled with pleasure as he put aside his work with no sign of regret.
“You think Dulcie had some help falling all that way?” Otis asked, when Rose had begun her questions.
“That’s ridiculous,” Theodore said. “Nobody’d bother to hurt Dulcie. She got dizzy, and she fell. That’s all.”
By some miracle, Rose had prevailed upon the doctor, Helen, and Fannie—the only ones who had found out about Dulcie’s pregnancy—to keep the information under wraps for the time being. Theodore must think that no one knew. Wouldn’t it occur to him that the baby must have been injured in Dulcie’s fall? Perhaps he didn’t care, as long as his reputation was safe.
“I’m not sure of anything at this point,” Rose said. “I just think it wise to clarify at once where everyone was when Dulcie fell. After all, someone might have seen something that would help pinpoint the exact time of her accident.”
“Well, I guess we’re both suspects, then,” Otis said cheerfully. “Theodore and me, we worked all over the place yesterday afternoon, both together and alone.”
“I worked here most of the afternoon,” Theodore said. “All this stuff has to get fixed soon. Spring is coming.”
Rose had trouble believing that spring would ever come again to this frozen land, let alone soon, but she could appreciate the urge to work efficiently.
“As for me,” Otis said, “I was in and out. Had to deliver some frilly stuff to the store—for the sisters, you know. Got rags and so forth for cleaning and oiling. I was all over the place.”
Rose believed him. He probably walked well out of his way whenever possible, if his previous habits were any indication.
“Otis, if you were around the village, perhaps you saw something that might be helpful. Did you catch sight of Dulcie at any time?”
Otis pulled down the corners of his mouth until he looked like a frog about to flick his tongue at a fly. “Now you mention it,” he said, “I might’ve seen Dulcie, but I can’t be real sure. If it was her, then I saw her a couple of times. She always wears that old Shaker dress, so it’s hard to tell her from a sister sometimes, especially from a distance—but I’m pretty sure it was her jacket I saw.”
“Where did you see her—and when?”
“Well, let me see. I saw her heading out of the store—no, wait, that was before supper. You don’t care about that.”
“Tell me anyway.” She’d probably just talked with Gennie, Rose thought, with regret. If only she had stayed in the village yesterday afternoon, maybe Dulcie would have found her, and none of this would have happened.
“She took off at a run, and I remember thinking that was strange,” Otis said. “She’s been feeling poorly lately, so I was surprised she could run like that through the snow. She was heading west, probably back to the dwelling house.”
“Did you watch where she actually went?”
“No, but I did see her stop and talk to one of the baby Shakers—Sewell, I think. He wasn’t so much taller than Dulcie, so I figured it was Sewell. Those other two, they’re real tall. I had to get back here with some rags, so I didn’t wait around to see where she went after that.”
“And after the noon meal?”
“Well, it must’ve been around the middle of the afternoon when I had to go out again—the sisters wanted me to deliver some things to the store. I saw Dulcie come out of the dwelling house as I was walking toward it. I think she must have seen me, too, because she went way off the path into the snow so she wouldn’t pass close to me. We’ve always been friendly, Dulcie and me, but maybe she just didn’t want to talk to anyone. She gets like that once in a while.” He glanced sideways at Theodore, who showed no interest in the conversation.
“Did you see where she was heading?”
“Yeah, I watched her a bit. I mean, she was acting strange, and I guess I was curious. She sort of circled wide around me and went straight for the Round Stone Barn. That’s the last I seen of her.”
“What time was that?”
“No idea.”
“Did either of you see or hear of anything else that afternoon that struck you as unusual?” Rose asked.
Theodore shook his head without looking up from the hay rake he was scraping clean of dirt and rust.
“You know,” Otis said, “there was one more thing, now you ask. I didn’t think much of it at the time.” He frowned. “Of course, I could be wrong, too.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, it seemed like one of the barn doors was open. The Round Stone Barn, that is. Might not mean anything, though, come to think of it. Sewell’s been going around to all the old buildings a lot, so he might�
�ve been inside or just left. It’s dark in there; maybe he wanted more light.” Otis shrugged and picked up a rag, as if he might actually put in a few minutes of work.
“Do you have any idea where Sewell might be now?” Rose asked.
For once, it was Theodore who answered. “He said he was going to the old Meetinghouse to take some measurements. Wanted me to come along and help, as if I didn’t have enough of my own work to do, with spring planting getting closer.”
Rose noticed he did not mention a need to spend time watching over his fiancée. Perhaps he was one of those men who kept their emotions secret. It seemed she’d met more such men up here than back in Kentucky. Maybe it was her prejudice showing through—or maybe it was an effect of the climate.
“How is Dulcie? She isn’t . . . ?” Sewell watched with anxious eyes as Rose crossed the Meetinghouse toward him.
“As far as I know, she is the same,” Rose said. She thought she saw his expression relax. Was he truly concerned about Dulcie, or was he relieved she was still unconscious?
“I need to ask you a few questions about yesterday.”
Sewell held a large sheet of paper that crackled as his hand twitched. “Yes?”
“Right now it looks like Dulcie fell accidentally, but with Julia’s murder and all, I thought it best to find out where everyone was yesterday afternoon—just to be safe, you know.” In the lantern light, Rose could see the fear in Sewell’s eyes.
“Of course. That’s the wisest course, I’m sure.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and knocked a pencil from behind his ear. “Sorry,” he mumbled, as he knelt to retrieve it.
“When you spoke with Dulcie yesterday, did she mention if she was planning to meet someone later?”
“When I . . . ? I’m sorry, I don’t remember speaking with her for several days.”
“You were seen, Sewell. Just take your time, I’m sure it will come to you.”
Sewell’s eyes darted around the room as if looking for a crack to fly through. “I suppose we did pass the time of day, but it was no more than that.”
Killing Gifts Page 18
