Amish Quilt Shop Mystery

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Amish Quilt Shop Mystery Page 3

by Samantha Price


  Ettie looked back at the body on the floor. He looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. There was no sign that he’d been in any pain before he died. At first look, and from what she could now see, there wasn’t much blood. The hand she’d checked for a pulse hadn’t been on the rug like the rest of his body—it had been outstretched.

  Without sirens, the police and the paramedics pulled up right outside the store within minutes. Bethany went to the phone and informed the operator of their arrival, and was told she should now hang up.

  “It’s your store; you do the talking when they come in,” Ettie said, moving to the back. Perhaps if she stayed in the background, Kelly wouldn’t notice her.

  “Okay.”

  A short, bald man came in behind the police. Ettie had seen him before and knew he was a coroner. Then she saw a familiar silhouette walk past the window, heading to the door. It was Detective Kelly.

  He walked around the body, studying it carefully. After he had talked to the coroner, he focused on Bethany. Taking steps toward her, he said, “Bethany Parker?”

  “I am.”

  “You found the man when you opened this morning?” He flipped open his notepad and took a pen out of his inner coat pocket.

  “Yes, I did, along with Mrs. Smith.” Bethany turned and pointed to Ettie, who had been doing her best to hide behind one of the large hanging quilts.

  Now smiling, he stepped past Bethany. “Ah, Mrs. Smith; I might have known.”

  “You know Mrs. Smith?” Bethany asked.

  “Yes, Mrs. Smith and I have become quite well acquainted.”

  Bethany stared over at Ettie, looking confused.

  Detective Kelly turned his attention back to Bethany. “You’ll have to come down to the station and tell me everything that happened this morning.” He swung around. “You too, Mrs. Smith.”

  Ettie nodded, unsure of whether it was a question or an order.

  “This is a crime scene now,” he stated.

  “I suppose you’ll have to look for evidence?” Bethany asked.

  “You might as well take that rug too. It’s no good to Bethany anymore.”

  The detective nodded. “Nice of you to offer, but we were going to take it anyway. We need it as evidence. I’ll have Officer Timmins take you both to the station to make your statements.”

  Chapter 5

  Things were happening so quickly that Bethany’s head was spinning. The detective had seemed amused to see Ettie in the quilt store. Had Ettie been in some trouble with the police before? Surely not!

  “Ettie, how did that detective know you so well?”

  “Remember Agatha’s haus?”

  “Ach jah—Horace.”

  “And then there was Margaret Yoder just recently; she was killed in front of Agatha’s old haus.”

  “Jah, that was very sad.”

  “Then there were a couple of other unfortunate events, but let’s not dwell on the past.” Ettie patted Bethany’s hand. “That's how I know the detective. It’ll be interesting to find out how the man died and what he was doing in your store.”

  “Do you think they’ll tell us?”

  “The coroner will look at him and give the detective his initial findings. Then the autopsy will have to be done.”

  “You do seem to know a lot about these things.”

  “Just observations, that's all. Why don’t you close your eyes and have a think about the man and where you’ve seen him before?”

  “Okay, I'll do that.” Bethany wondered how Ettie was so calm and collected since they had just found a dead person in the store. There was no explanation, or even a hint as to why the man would’ve been there in the first place.

  Still, Bethany was pleased to have Ettie with her. She held the image of the man in her mind. She pictured the man, only a younger version. Wherever she’d seen the man he’d been smiling and looking down at her. Could this man have been her father? Maybe she had met her father once, but would her mother have allowed that to happen? Bethany opened her eyes and blinked hard. She hoped the man in her store was not her father; that would mean her father was dead.

  “Bethany Parker?”

  Bethany stood up. “That's me.”

  “This way please.”

  Bethany followed the man into a room and told him exactly what had happened that morning. Then she agreed to have her fingerprints taken. When she was finished, she went back to the waiting room, thinking they would’ve questioned Ettie at the same time, but she was sitting where she’d left her.

  “They haven’t questioned you yet?”

  “Jah, they have. I’m all finished and waiting for you.”

  “That was quick.”

  “I didn’t have much to say.”

  Bethany looked down at the ink on her fingers. “Did they take your prints too?”

  “They have them on record already.”

  “Where do we go now? When can I get back into my store? How do I find these things out, Ettie?”

  “We wait for Detective Kelly to come back. He should know everything. I just asked the young man at the desk and he said that the detective would be here soon.”

  “I wonder if they know who the man is yet.”

  “They probably do. They would've found some ID in his wallet.”

  “What if he didn't have his wallet with him?”

  “Men always carry wallets.”

  “What if it was stolen?” Bethany asked.

  “Then they would've taken his watch too.”

  “I suppose that's right. They would've taken his watch if they stole his wallet.” Bethany nibbled on a fingernail. “I don't like to have my store closed like this.”

  “You can't worry about that now. When you can’t change things, there is no point worrying about them.”

  Bethany glanced at Ettie sitting beside her. She was speaking in a monotonous way, which was unlike Ettie. “Do you want me to call Elsa-May for you, Ettie?”

  A look of horror spread across Ettie’s face. “Why would I want you to do that?”

  “You seem upset, that's all. Elsa-May might be able to offer you some support.”

  Ettie shook her head. “That's kind of you to think of me, but I'm all right. You must realize they might have your shop closed off for a few days and then when they give you back the keys it’ll have to be cleaned from top to bottom. All the quilts will have to be cleaned along with the other stock.”

  “I don't want to think about it,” Bethany said.

  “Everybody will help. I'll organize the ladies to do it for you.”

  “You will?”

  Ettie nodded, but she was staring straight ahead. At least she was being helpful. “Here he comes now,” Ettie said, nodding toward the door.

  Bethany looked over to see Detective Kelly stride through the door. He glanced at the ladies and stopped in front of them. He held his hand up in front of him with his fingers pointing to the ceiling. “Give me five minutes. I’ll need to speak with both of you. Have you made your statements?”

  “We have,” Ettie replied.

  Minutes later, they were sitting across the desk from Detective Kelly.

  “I read your statements, and I’m happy to say that they both match.”

  “That's because we both met in the alleyway and then I went to unlock the door and found that it was already unlocked…”

  “You don't need to tell me again, Ms. Parker. You can save your breath seeing that it’s all there in your statement. The evidence technicians are still in your store so I can't say when you’ll get your keys back. It could be later today, or it might be tomorrow or the day after.”

  “Things move quicker than that, don’t they? Can’t you be a little more specific, Detective? Bethany has a business to run.”

  “Mrs. Smith, a man has died, and I think that's a little more important than someone’s business.”

  “Yes, of course it is. I'm not saying that it isn’t. But it is Bethany's livelihood, and she would like to
get back to business as soon as she possibly can.”

  “The rent is high. I can’t afford the store to be closed,” Bethany added.

  The detective ignored their comments. “You said in your statement, Ms. Parker, that you didn't know the man at all. The officer taking your statement tells me you were hesitant when asked if you had ever seen the man before. Why is that?”

  “He did look slightly familiar to me. Maybe I'd seen him in a crowd of people. Or… I don’t know.”

  “That's not what you say in your statement. It says right here that you’ve never seen the man before, and you don't know who he is. Were you lying, Ms. Parker?”

  Ettie took a quick breath then opened her mouth to speak.

  “The question wasn’t directed at you, Mrs. Smith. Answer the question, Ms. Parker.”

  “That's true, I don't know the man and I don’t know his name.”

  The detective pulled a face at her and then looked at Ettie. “And you, Mrs. Smith?”

  “I can't say that I have ever seen the man before.”

  “Why can’t I ever get a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ from you, Mrs. Smith?”

  “Because I'm trying to answer you in the most accurate manner that I can.”

  “And exactly why were you at Ms. Parker’s store so early in the morning?”

  “I went to buy some things, and that’s all.”

  “You happened to be there on the very day a man was murdered?”

  “Yes.”

  The detective stared at her in silence.

  Ettie added, “You see, I can answer ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”

  The detective slowly shook his head. “We can't release the man's name until we inform his next-of-kin, but does the name Ian Whitmore mean anything to either of you?”

  “Is that the man's name?” Ettie asked.

  “According to the credit cards, drivers license, and all manner of identification in the man’s wallet it is. The photo ID matches, so we’ve got no reason to believe that the man we found today is not Ian Whitmore.”

  Bethany felt her body run cold. The name Whitmore was familiar to her. The man named on her birth certificate was Randall Whitmore. Could that man in the store have been her father come to find her? If so, perhaps Randall might have been his middle name.

  She could feel the detective staring at her.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Parker? Does that name sound familiar to you?”

  “I’ve never met my father, Detective. All I know about him… is that his name is Randall Whitmore. I only know that because it's on my birth certificate.”

  “That is interesting. And you say you’ve never met him?”

  “No, never. My mother would never allow me to ask questions about him either.”

  “Your father wasn't an Amish man?”

  She shook her head.

  The detective stared at her.

  “I don't even know where he was from. I don't know anything about him at all. I don’t know where he lives or even if he knows I exist. I tried to ask my mother, but she never answered any of my questions. In the end, I just stopped asking.”

  The detective scratched some notes on the page in front of him. “I’ll have to speak to your mother, Ms. Parker.”

  “That would be hard, Detective. Bethany’s mother is dead.”

  “Forgive me. I’m sorry, Ms. Parker. When did she die?”

  “That’s quite all right. She died around a year ago.”

  “We’ll certainly look into whether the man might be a relative of yours, although it could be a coincidence. Whitmore is not an unusual name. I’d say the man was in your store looking for money.”

  “You think the man was a petty criminal, dressed in that expensive suit?” Ettie asked.

  “An opportunistic criminal, Mrs. Smith. From Ms. Parker's own admission she forgot to lock the door the night before. He could easily have come along looking for money—even some spare change.”

  “He seemed too well-dressed to be a criminal, and he appeared to be wearing an expensive watch.”

  “Many people are going through hard times and have to keep up appearances. He could’ve purchased that suit at the local thrift store. The watch could very well be a copy.”

  “His hair was neatly trimmed, he was clean-shaven, and he appeared to have manicured fingernails. I hardly think the man was going through trash cans or dumpster diving.”

  The detective continued without even glancing in Ettie’s direction. “We have his address, but as I said I haven't informed the next-of-kin, and that’s the only information I can give you at this stage.” He looked directly at Bethany. “I’d advise you not to talk to the media if they come snooping around asking questions.”

  “What will I say if they do?”

  “All you have to say is ‘no comment’ and they’ll leave you alone.” He looked down at the papers in front of him. “I see you have no family, and no phone where you live?”

  Ettie cut across Bethany to say, “We don’t have phones in our houses but we’re allowed them for our businesses.”

  “That’s right, I don’t have one at home, but I do at the quilt store.”

  “Don't you have a phone in your barn?” the detective asked Bethany.

  “I don't have a barn. I just live in a house.”

  “That's interesting. Well, you don't live too far away, so I’ll stop by when I need to talk to you again.”

  “You don't have any idea when she’ll be able to get back into her store, Detective?”

  “As I’ve already stated, Mrs. Smith, I do not know.”

  “I'd be interested to know if that man was my father, Detective Kelly. Maybe he was there to talk to me—to meet me at last.”

  “Not a good start to renew or to begin a relationship—breaking into your store. Nevertheless, I will let you know as things develop.”

  Ettie and Bethany rose to their feet and left the station.

  When they got outside Bethany said, “I’ve suddenly got all this time on my hands, Ettie. What will I do with myself? I’ve made the store my whole life. I’ve spent the last months planning it and then finally bringing it into being. Now that it’s taken away I feel at a loss.” Bethany looked up to the sky, blinking back tears.

  “Come back to my place. That’s surely better than going home by yourself.”

  “Denke, Ettie, but I have to be by myself at home sooner or later.”

  “Why don’t you have one of your friends, Kathy or Jill, stay with you?”

  “They have young children now. I don’t like to bother them.”

  “You’re coming home with me and I won't take no for an answer.”

  Bethany had no idea what to do with herself. The only thing she knew at that moment was that she didn’t want to be alone, so she agreed to go with Ettie.

  Chapter 6

  Over dinner at Ettie and Elsa-May’s, Bethany and Ettie told Elsa-May what had happened.

  “Quite unbelievable,” Elsa-May said, shaking her head. “I wonder if that man is your father, Bethany. And if he was, why did he plan to wait for you inside your store? That would’ve given you a horrible fright.”

  “He did look familiar. I said that right away, didn’t I, Ettie?”

  Ettie nodded. “You did. And he has the same last name as your father. One of the many things I can’t figure out, Bethany, is that you’ve never met your father before, and this man looked familiar to you. Is it possible that you might have met your father at least once?”

  Bethany swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I do have a memory of a man coming to the haus once. He was nice to me and gave me a lollipop. I remember my mudder standing behind him with her arms folded, glaring at him while he was talking with me. It’s just a vague memory. The dead man was older, but the face was similar. It could well have been him—an older version of him.”

  “Can you remember how old you would’ve been at the time?” Elsa-May asked.

  “The more I think about it, the more I'm
sure that it could've been the man. Although I could never say so for certain.”

  “How old do you think you were at the time?” Elsa-May repeated.

  “I think I was no more than three. My head only came to the side of the kitchen table. The man was sitting on the chair, and I was standing by him.”

  “Do you remember what he said?” Ettie asked.

  “Not at all. It’s only a vague, fuzzy memory. I knew at the time my mother didn't like him or didn't want him to be there, one or the other. I strongly sensed her disapproval.”

  “No one in the community ever knew anything about your vadder,” Elsa-May said. “Your mother was out of the community and then she came back some months later expecting you. Of course, she had to make a confession in front of the congregation that she had sinned since she’d been baptized years before, but then she was accepted back.”

  “That must have been hard for her and embarrassing.”

  “It would be a humbling thing to do. Your mother was a strong woman.”

  “I suppose she had to be,” Bethany said, thinking of her mother in a new light.

  “Funny how your mudder never married again,” Ettie said.

  “She never married at all,” Elsa-May corrected her.

  “That's true.” Ettie nodded.

  “How I wish she would’ve told me something about my vadder. She never wanted to talk about him and got angry whenever I asked. I don't even know if the name on my birth certificate is my father at all. What is to stop someone just making up a name? I mean, how would I know for certain?”

  “I suppose you wouldn't,” Elsa-May said.

  “She wouldn’t have made something like that up. It's too important a thing,” Ettie said.

  “Ettie’s right; she wouldn't make something like that up.”

  Bethany stared at the older ladies. “Do you really think so? I was always too scared to go and find my father. And now I might never know him.”

  “Why were you so scared?” Ettie asked.

  “The thing was, I didn’t know if the man knew of my existence. I didn’t want to turn up and give the man a heart attack out of shock. Then again, if he did know about me, I was fearful I wouldn’t measure up to his expectations. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in how I’d turned out.”

 

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