Ettie laughed. “I do know a thing or two about love, and that boy can’t take his eyes off you.”
“Really?”
“You mean you don’t know that yourself?”
“I had hoped, but that’s all.” Bethany hoped she hadn’t ruined things with him already by being distant with him.
“Now that I’ve given you something to think about other than the Whitmores, I’ll go home. I’ll be brighter by this afternoon.”
“Denke again, Ettie. I’ll see you later.”
Three women came into the store and passed Ettie on her way out. Bethany was glad of the distraction when one of the ladies told Bethany all about the quilts she had at home and the one she was presently sewing. Many women who came into the store liked to talk about their sewing projects, and today Bethany was glad to listen.
It was mid-afternoon when a well-dressed woman walked in wearing a slim-fitting tailored business suit. She didn’t look like she was there to buy a quilt. The woman locked eyes with Bethany and approached her directly.
“Good afternoon. Would you be Bethany Parker?”
“I am.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Freda Harris, one of your father’s lawyers. I believe your uncle was found shot here in your store.”
Bethany froze. Did the woman mean her harm? Was it appropriate to offer her condolences? She hadn’t seen this woman at the funeral, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there amongst the crowd of mourners.
“The reason I’m here is that I happen to believe that Randall Whitmore’s brother came here to deliver you a document.”
“What kind of document?” If she means the will, why doesn’t she say it straight out?
“Did he bring you anything? It’s of vital importance that I know because I was his personal lawyer. He trusted me with everything. Cheryl Bailey gave me your address and said I should make contact with you to smooth the process for you.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anything. All I know is that the man was found on my floor right where you’re standing.”
She looked down at her feet and took a couple steps to her left. “Sooner or later, they’ll find out if he gave you that document.”
“Who’s they?”
“The family. It’s best you tell me now so we can work out how best to move forward with everything.”
“I wish I could tell you something, but he left nothing here. He was here when I got here. Perhaps you should contact the police? They took lots of things away in bags as evidence.”
“What kind of things?”
Bethany shrugged. “I didn’t take notice.”
“But you noticed enough to see them putting things into bags, so what were they?”
The woman was making her nervous. “Do you want me to call the police for you?”
“If I want to speak to them I can call them for myself. I assure you, Bethany, I’m on your side, and I’m possibly the only one who is, apart from Cheryl Bailey. You can’t trust anyone, particularly Creighton. No one in the Whitmore family wishes you well, and Ian and your father knew that.” The woman stared at her for a moment and then opened her bag and handed over a business card. “If you think of anything, or if you need help with anything, here are my numbers.”
She took the card. “What do you think that Ian came to give me?”
“If you don’t know that, Bethany, I’ll only get you into more trouble by telling you. If you find out for yourself, be sure to call me if you need help.”
“Are you talking about his will?”
“Do you know where it is?”
“No, I don’t.”
The woman took a step closer to her. “I think you’re playing games with me. This is no game, Bethany.”
“The detective in charge of the case wants to speak with you.”
“I haven’t heard from him. Anyway, my office arranges my appointments. Your father trusted me and you should too.” She glanced at her wristwatch before she hurried out the door.
Chapter 16
The rest of the day had gone quickly for Bethany and when it was fifteen minutes before five, she looked up and down the street to see if Ettie was anywhere in sight. It was then that she saw Jabez walking toward her. He lifted his hand to give her a wave.
“Any other time but now,” she murmured to herself as she gave a wave back.
This was the worst time for him to be anywhere near the store. She didn’t want to involve him in the tangled mess that the Whitmore family appeared to have created.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Come inside.” She walked back into the store. “My father’s lawyer visited me today and asked if Ian brought something with him, and Creighton Whitmore came here before she did. Creighton’s coming back to talk to me in a few minutes. He said he’d be back at five.”
“What does he want?”
“He said he needs to talk with me about things.”
“Do you want me to wait with you? I won’t say anything. I’ll stay in the background.”
“Nee denke. Ettie Smith will be here soon. She offered to stay with me.”
“Ettie Smith? What does she have to do with any of this?”
“She went to Ian Whitmore’s funeral with me, and she was here with me this morning when Creighton Whitmore was here.” She deliberately didn’t tell him that Creighton Whitmore could very well be a suspect in Ian Whitmore’s murder. She contemplated asking him whether he would stay with her until Ettie arrived just in case Ettie didn’t show but thought better of it.
“I see. I’m not needed, then. I’ll leave you to it.”
Without saying goodbye, he strode out of the store.
Bethany opened her mouth to call him back, but something stopped her. Maybe it was his sulky attitude or maybe it was her own pride, she didn’t know, but she had bigger worries than Jabez’s hurt feelings. She watched him head back in the direction from where he’d come.
At five in the evening, there was no sign of Ettie. Immediately, Bethany knew something was wrong. Ettie was always punctual, as was the way of all Amish people. If Ettie said she was going to be at a certain place at a certain time, she was generally five minutes early.
Making an effort to steady her breathing, Bethany logged off the credit card terminal and then reconciled the money in the till. When Bethany heard a knock on the glass door, she whipped her head up hoping it was Ettie. It wasn’t. It was Creighton. Now she regretted not having Jabez stay with her.
Was she going to end up dead on the floor just like Ian Whitmore? Knowing Ettie was stopping by the police station and would be there soon gave her a little sense of calm amidst the panic welling inside.
Bethany unlocked the door, allowing Creighton to step into the store.
“Sorry about earlier today,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve inherited some of my father’s bad traits—stubbornness and a bad temper.”
Her father had been stubborn just like she was. “It must be a comfort for you to have known him.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Spoken like someone who’d never met him.”
“Maybe one day you can take the time to tell me about him. I would like to learn all I can about him.”
No sound came from Creighton’s lips as he stared at her as though she were an oddity.
She coughed to cover her nervousness. “Why did you feel the need to come here today?”
“It’s a matter of an inheritance and whether you are or you aren’t the child of my father, Randall Whitmore.”
“I’ve told you all I know. All I can tell you is that it’s his name on my birth certificate, and when I saw your uncle on my floor, he looked slightly familiar. I might have seen your father when I was a small child. Anyway, I’ve already told you about that vague memory, and that’s all I can say. My mother never told me anything about him even though I often begged her to.”
“Would you take a DNA test?”
“I would as long as it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s painless—just a simple swab inside your mouth.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“You do have a certain family resemblance. You’ve got the same high cheekbones, the same shaped nose. Show me your hands,” he ordered.
She held them out in front of her.
He laughed as he held out his hands. “See? The same crooked finger—that’s a big Whitmore trait.”
Bethany found herself relaxing when he seemed pleased to find evidence that she might be related.
“I’ve always wondered why my fingers were like that.”
“My mother told me that you weren’t my father’s child but she was a twisted woman. I figured she was always jealous of your mother.”
“Jealous of my mother?” It sounded ludicrous that anyone could be jealous of her plain mother.
“I think she was jealous that my father held a certain amount of affection for your mother and obviously for you.”
“He did? Did he ever say anything about me?”
“Not to me, but he obviously did to my mother, and it appears he told Ian of your existence.”
“And your Aunt Cheryl; she knows too.”
“Who’s that? I don’t have an Aunt Cheryl.”
Bethany’s chest tightened. “Cheryl, Ian and Randall’s sister.”
“Ian and Randall don’t have a sister or any siblings. They were the only two children in the family. Randall was the older brother by one year.”
Bethany backed herself against the countertop to stop herself from falling. “There is no sister?” The woman’s face flashed before her. “She was talking to us at the funeral and even offered us Kleenex.”
He shrugged and shook his head.
“Whose home was the wake held at, then?”
“The wake was at Ian’s house. Well, I suppose it’s Aunt Rita’s house now.”
Where’s Ettie? Bethany looked out the store window, hoping she wouldn’t be too far.
“I do know a Cheryl, but she’s no relation and definitely no friend. What did she say to you?”
She studied Creighton’s face. Maybe he was the fraud, and he was telling lies. Cheryl had warned them against him.
“She said Randall wanted me… well… wanted to leave me something in his will. And that there was a big family fight.”
“You’re making it all up. There is no sister.”
His raised voice scared Bethany. “I’m just telling you what she said.”
They were both startled when an officer burst through the door. “Creighton Whitmore?”
“Yes?”
“I need you to come down to the station with me. We need to ask you a few questions.”
“About what?” he spat out as though insulted by the intrusion. “I saw a detective the other day and answered all his questions. I don’t know anything else.”
“I need you to come with me now,” the officer repeated, stepping forward.
“How did you know I was here?” Creighton asked.
“We can talk about that down at the station.”
Creighton turned around and shot Bethany a look of disgust before he walked out with the detective. Bethany watched out the window as he slipped into the back door of the police car. When the car drove off, Ettie appeared as if out of nowhere and rushed into the store.
“Are you all right, Bethany?”
“I thought you’d never get here. Does the detective think he killed Ian? Is that why the police officer rushed in here like that?”
“Creighton disappeared from the house not long after Ian left.”
“Is that right?”
Ettie nodded.
“He seemed as though he could’ve been nice. Although he did get weird and a little aggressive at the end of our conversation. We were having a nice talk and do you know what he told me? He said there was no one called Cheryl. Ian and Randall didn’t have a sister at all.”
Ettie gasped and covered her mouth. “What else did he say?”
“That he thought his father never forgot my mother and his mother was jealous of my mother. The way he spoke of his mother, it sounded like she might have died, but I didn’t like to ask. It would be nice to find out about Cheryl. She took a risk telling us that it was her house when it really was Ian's house where the wake was held. We could very easily have found out that it wasn’t.”
“And she seemed to be involved with the family at the funeral service. She was sitting in the front with them.”
“Remember she wasn’t anywhere to be found when we wanted to say goodbye to her?”
“That’s right. I totally forgot about that. We couldn’t see her anywhere.”
“I also had a visit from my father’s lawyer, and she left me her card. She wanted to know if Ian had brought anything with him, but the funny thing was that she never mentioned the word ‘will.’”
“That is odd. Come and have dinner with Elsa-May and me tonight. Before you say no, I have to tell you that Elsa-May is cooking a roast. I told her I’d ask you to come home with me.”
“After the day I’ve had, a roast sounds like the very thing I need.”
Chapter 17
Bethany was pleased to be going to Ettie and Elsa-May’s house for dinner. She hadn’t been to the store to buy groceries for well over a week, and she was certain cookies and potatoes were the only foods left in the house. Tomorrow she’d have to find the time to go to the grocery store. She couldn’t exist on half-strength cappuccinos and salad sandwiches from the café down the road for much longer.
When the taxi stopped outside Ettie and Elsa-May’s house, Bethany could smell the roasted meat. Fond memories of her mother’s cooking flooded her mind.
“Smell that?” Ettie breathed in deeply.
“Jah. I didn’t know how hungry I was until now.”
“Elsa-May does cook a wunderbaar roast.”
“I can’t wait to taste it,” Bethany said.
Ettie pushed the front door of her house open. Even though Bethany had been to their house before, she was always amazed at how tiny the place was. Two steps inside the door and they were in the small living room.
Ettie took Bethany’s cape from her and put it on the table just inside the door.
“Have a seat and I’ll see where Elsa-May’s got herself to.”
“Okay.” There were six wooden chairs that seemed like they’d seen better days and one couch. Listening to hushed voices in the kitchen, Bethany sat on the closest chair knowing that Ettie’s spot was the couch and Elsa-May’s chair was the one with the knitting bag underneath it.
Elsa-May walked toward her, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “I’m glad you could come, Bethany. Ettie was just telling me everything that happened this afternoon.”
“Denke for inviting me, and jah, it has been an eventful afternoon. The dinner smells delicious.”
“I’m hoping it tastes the same. We’ll soon find out.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“Nee! We’re about five minutes away from serving it.” Elsa-May headed back to the kitchen.
Bethany noticed Elsa-May’s white fluffy dog asleep in the corner. He looked so cute on his little bed curled into a ball. After a few more minutes had passed, Bethany decided she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, so she walked into the kitchen. “You must have something I could do,” she said to Elsa-May.
“Not now. Dinner is ready.”
Elsa-May called out to Ettie and soon Ettie joined the two of them at the table. They closed their eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks for the food.
When they finished their prayer, Elsa-May stood and carved the roast. When she’d placed three slices of meat on each plate, she sat back down.
“That’s a lot of meat. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through it. Do you want to take a piece off my plate, Elsa-May?”
“Just do what you can. Snowy gets the leftovers.”
“I told Elsa-May what happened this afternoon, Bethany.”
Bethan
y looked at Elsa-May. “What do you make of it all?”
Elsa-May finished the mouthful she was chewing on and then placed her fork down on her plate. “I find it intriguing that the woman who introduced herself as Cheryl and invited you to her home doesn’t exist at all. Are you sure you two didn’t imagine her? Maybe you both fell over and bumped your heads?”
Ettie snapped back, “I hope you’re joking. I know you often think I’m losing my mind, but a young woman like Bethany wouldn’t be.”
“Calm down, Ettie. I wasn’t serious.”
Ettie ignored Elsa-May and cut herself another portion of meat.
“All the same, I wonder who the woman was,” Elsa-May said.
“I’d love to know that. She seemed friendly. What would be the reason to pretend she was Ian and Randall’s sister? She’d have to know that we’d find out eventually there was no sister,” Ettie said.
Elsa-May suggested, “Maybe she was hoping to scare you away or give you just enough information to make you think you were hearing the truth.”
“That could be right. She said the lawyers would contact me, and I was waiting for that to happen.”
Ettie waved a fork in the air. “What if she was buying time? If there were legal goings-on underway, she might not have wanted Bethany to interfere. By saying what she did, she could’ve hoped Bethany would go away satisfied and wait for someone to contact her—and they never would. By the time Bethany realized no one was ever going to contact her, the money that was rightfully hers could’ve gone elsewhere, and it would be too late for Bethany to do anything about it.”
Elsa-May nodded. “Jah, that makes sense, Ettie.”
“But I don’t want anything.”
“They don’t know that, Bethany. Even if you tell them you don’t want anything, how do they know that you won’t change your mind tomorrow?” Ettie said.
“But we still don’t know who Cheryl is or what part she’s playing in this whole thing.” Elsa-May popped another piece of meat into her mouth.
“The other thing could be that Creighton was telling you lies. After all, the detective did take him in for questioning. He could’ve been the one who killed Ian Whitmire.”
Amish Quilt Shop Mystery Page 8
