Assaulted Pretzel

by Laura Bradford

  “Do you not know?” Martha asked. “Do you not know that toy man was going to make Isaac’s toys without Isaac’s help?”

  Jakob rubbed at the clean-shaven skin along his jawline. “I know. I saw the copy of the memo that everyone was looking at during the festival yesterday. I’m sure it was a shock to Isaac and Daniel if they’d both been led to believe they’d have a hand in actually making the toys for the Karble Corporation.”

  “Shock, yes. For both. But for Isaac it is sadness, too.”

  Stilling his hand against his face, Jakob looked from Martha to Claire and back again, his sister’s words bringing him up short. “Because of the lost work?”

  Martha nodded as she filled in the details of her statement. “It was Isaac who told him of the toys he and Daniel make.”

  Unable to hold her tongue any longer, Claire jumped into the conversation, her head desperate to make sense of what she was hearing. “Are you saying Isaac is responsible for bringing Rob Karble to Heavenly in the first place?”

  “That is what I am saying.” Martha glanced down at her hands intertwined in her lap, struggling to find a way to explain what she knew. “He was excited to bring work here. He was excited to be able to help Daniel in that way. He liked everyone being happy with him for that. But then it all changed.”

  “Changed how?” Jakob prompted.

  “It is hard to get excited about jobs and then know you will not get them. But because Isaac brought that man here, the jobs they already had were to be affected by his decision, too.”

  In the absence of Esther and her protective streak where her mother was concerned, Claire found herself stepping into the role and trying to make things right. “I’m sure Daniel and Isaac have built a loyal client base over the years…people who will continue to order toys through their catalogues.”

  “Children and grandchildren only play with toys for so long before they outgrow them. That loyal client base, as you call them, will eventually move on to another stage in gift buying,” Jakob explained. “And when that happens, a move like Karble’s will make their catalogue business dry up.”

  “An Amish-inspired toy that is made by a machine is very different than an Amish toy made by Amish hands,” Claire protested out of hope as much as anything else. To say it out of anything else was simply ludicrous. She was a businesswoman. She knew the cold hard facts behind a move like Karble’s.

  “For someone like you, Claire, who might notice and care about such things, sure. But for the vast majority of people out there, the two are close enough,” Jakob mused. “Toss in the price differential, and you can bet any hemming and hawing over which toy to choose is virtually gone.” Then, turning back to his sister, Jakob’s matter-of-fact tone softened somewhat. “So was Daniel angry at Isaac?”

  “I would not say angry. Daniel Lapp is a good man. Kind.” Martha slid off the stool and wandered across the room, her brother’s gaze tracking her every step as he, too, rose to his feet. “But he built his toy shop business to what it is now. He brought Isaac in to help him and, now, his business is to be affected by something he did not seek.”

  “So you’re worried that Daniel will be angry at Isaac?” Jakob asked.

  Martha stopped beside the collection of painted milk cans she, herself, had sent in to the shop on consignment and slowly turned, her unadorned hands fiddling with the sides of her dress. “No. I worry that you will look to Isaac for what has happened. Just as Sarah worries you will look to Daniel.”

  Claire shifted her stance beside the counter to gain a better view of Jakob’s face. It didn’t take much deducing to know Martha’s concern for Isaac and Daniel in the wake of Rob Karble’s murder was justified. How Jakob was going to handle that fact with a sister he desperately wanted to reconnect with, though, was the million-dollar question.

  A heavy silence weighed in the air as Jakob seemed to mull over Martha’s suspicion before eventually giving the only answer he knew how to give. “To tell you Isaac and Daniel will not be questioned in Mr. Karble’s death would be a lie, Martha. So I will not say that. But I want you to know that I don’t believe either man is responsible. And I promise you that with your help I will not rest until I have proven that to be the case.”

  Claire held her breath as she stood back and waited for Martha’s response. Had Jakob left off the part about his sister’s help, Claire suspected a smile would have been immediate on the woman’s face. But since he hadn’t, her reaction was more difficult to read.

  “Can you do that, Martha? Can you help me eliminate Isaac and Daniel as viable suspects?” Jakob prodded.

  One hesitant step at a time, Martha made her way back over to the counter, her soft black ankle boots barely audible against the shop’s carpeting. When she reached the stool on which she’d sat only moments earlier, she stopped, raising her gaze to meet her brother’s. “I will help. But I do not want anyone to know of this talk, or any talks.”

  The smile Jakob had been afraid to show at the realization his sister had come to Heavenly Treasures specifically to find him finally spread across his face, undaunted. “I will not tell a soul, Martha. You have my word on that.”

  Without taking her focus off Jakob, Martha addressed Claire. “Esther is not to know of this conversation.”

  “But, Martha, she’d be happy to know you talked to Jakob. Thrilled, even. It’s all she ever—”

  Jakob cleared his throat loudly, successfully cutting Claire off midplea. “Esther will not know. Of this or any other talks we may have.”

  Visibly satisfied with his response, Martha crossed to the door only to stop mere inches from her destination. “I will bring books to the children’s school shortly before lunch. I will walk home past the pond.”

  And then, just like that, the woman was gone, disappearing down the steps of Heavenly Treasures. Claire gestured toward the front window. “What was that about walking to school and the pond?”

  “That is where I am to meet my sister tomorrow morning,” Jakob whispered, dumbfounded. “So we can…talk.”

  It was everything she’d been praying for since she’d learned of Jakob’s past, yet nothing her aunt Diane ever believed would happen. Bobbing up on the toes of her boots, Claire let loose a little squeal. “Jakob! You did it! You’ve made a connection with Martha that’s going to have the two of you talking again!” She clapped her hands together just as Esther emerged from the back room with a lunch sack in one hand and a copy of the Heavenly Times in the other.

  “Claire?” Esther peeled her focus from the newspaper and flashed it upward at Claire, an odd expression lighting her tired eyes. “Did I hear Mamm’s voice through the window just now?”

  She opened her mouth to answer only to close it as Jakob shook her response away. “I…I…”

  “Esther.” Jakob stepped into his niece’s field of vision and stopped, his usual joy over catching a peek at his niece offset by his obvious need to keep a promise to Martha. “I’m so sorry you had to find Mr. Karble’s body the way that you did.”

  Shocked at seeing her uncle standing mere inches away, Esther quickly smoothed down the edges of her apron and checked to make sure the strings of her head cap were secured. “I did not see who did it.”

  Jakob nodded. “I read the statement you gave to Officer Nettles while I was securing the scene. I know that you didn’t see anything.” He retraced his steps back to the counter to retrieve his gloves and the victim’s camera, casting a pointed look in Claire’s direction as he did. “Well, ladies, I better get back to the station. Got lots to do today.”

  And then he was gone, slipping out the same door by which his sister had come and gone before Esther’s arrival at work.

  Not wanting to give Esther time to question Jakob’s presence or to repeat her inquiry about Martha, Claire pointed at the newspaper in her friend’s left hand, the headline stretched across the front page leaving little doubt to the front-page story. “So how bad is it?” she asked.

  Esther allowed
one last lingering look at the door before taking in the newspaper, then Claire, and finally the floor—in that order. “It is like it was last time. But this time it is bad for your aunt, too.”

  “Bad for my aunt?” she repeated.

  Nodding, Esther flipped the folded paper over in her hand and then handed it to Claire. “I am sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry for what…” The words trailed from her mouth as the below-the-fold headline hit her with a one-two punch to the gut.

  SLEEP HEAVENLY GUESTS MAY WANT TO START

  SLEEPING WITH ONE EYE OPEN

  Chapter 9

  Claire smoothed a wrinkle from the white lacy tablecloth Diane had put down for the evening meal and released a quiet sigh. Any hope her aunt had escaped the nastiness in the newspaper was dashed the moment she walked in the back door after work and found the woman hunched and sniffling over a predinner coffee.

  When she’d tried to broach the subject of the front page article, though, Diane had waved Claire off, blaming the irrefutable moisture in her eyes to a never-before-heard-of allergy and abandoning her coffee in favor of final dinner preparations that left virtually no room for chitchat let alone a heavy conversation.

  “Is everything ready in here?” Diane asked as she came through the door between the kitchen and the dining room. “Water glasses filled? Butter out? Bread basket at each end?”

  With a practiced eye, Claire took in each of the tasks, nodding her head as each passed muster. “We’re good.”

  Diane breezed around the large colonial-style table, stopping every two or three chairs to straighten a knife that didn’t need to be straightened or reposition a fork that didn’t need to be repositioned. “The pot roast is fork tender and the butter is melting into the noodles as we speak. The only thing left to do is transfer the gravy to the two gravy boats and bring it all out to the table.”

  With barely a breath taken, the woman continued on, the shake in her voice intensifying at the sound of approaching footsteps. “I’ll take care of bringing everything in if you’ll take care of the greeting.”

  “But that’s your job, Aunt Diane,” she protested in a hushed tone. “The guests love to see you as they come in from their day and you know that.”

  “Not today, dear. Today, I think it’s more important they see your smile. And if you can engage them in small talk about anything other than the inn, I’d be grateful.”

  She opened her mouth to argue but resisted the impulse when the first few guests strode into the dining room just as Diane exited through the door on the opposite side of the room.

  “Good evening, everyone.” Claire forced every ounce of merriment she could muster into her voice. “Wasn’t today just the picture-perfect autumn day?”

  Wayne Granderson pulled his wife’s chair back from the table and waited as she sat down, his head nodding along with her enthusiastic response. “Oh, Claire, Wayne and I took a walk down Lighted Way and out past some of the Amish fields. The sun warmed our backs on the way there, and then felt so wonderful on our faces on the way home…didn’t it, hon?”

  The head that had finally stilled began to nod once again in the man’s usual happy but silent way.

  “I’d hoped Wayne and I might catch Diane on the porch before she started in on dinner, but no such luck.” Virginia dropped her voice to a near whisper and gestured her head in the direction of the kitchen. “She’s taking this whole Karble business hard, isn’t she?”

  At a loss on whether to lie and say everything was fine or to share her own concerns for her aunt’s situation, Claire was more than a little grateful when the male half of the newlyweds claimed the seat to the left of his pretty bride and began to talk about their day. The pleasant temperatures and sunny skies had prompted them to pack a picnic lunch and take a bike ride out into the country. But just as Claire began to relax, Doug brought the conversation around full circle when he mentioned their stop at the coffee shop just down from Heavenly Treasures.

  “You’d think, in a town like Heavenly, the media would be a little less harsh, a little less about the sensationalism. But, as I’m sure you knew long before you saw today’s paper, Claire, that isn’t the case, is it?” Doug leaned to his right and planted a gentle kiss on the side of Kayla’s forehead before righting himself once again. “I’ll have you know, though, that neither Kayla nor myself are the”—he hooked two of his fingers from both of his hands in the air and wiggled them up and down—“unidentified guests who felt the need to make things worse for your aunt.”

  Virginia pushed her glasses higher across the bridge of her nose and shot a quizzical look in Doug’s direction. “Unidentified guests? What are you talking about?”

  “The article. In today’s local paper.” At the second rise to Virginia’s left eyebrow, Doug filled in the blanks before Claire could craft a way to change the subject. “Seems someone staying here saw fit to talk to the local media about what happened in Room Six yesterday—information the reporter then used to cast a good deal of doubt as to the safety and well-being of guests who choose Sleep Heavenly for their lodging when visiting Amish country.”

  Wayne snorted his disgust, dipping his head forward as he did. “Are you tellin’ me this reporter actually thinks this Karble fella’s room being ransacked on the same day he was murdered was a coincidence?”

  “Two crimes sell more papers than one,” Kayla Jones mused before taking a sip from her water goblet. When she was done, she set her glass back down on the table and shot a pointed look toward the empty chairs at the table. “But that still doesn’t answer the question as to who spoke to the reporter and said such disparaging things about this beautiful inn.”

  Diane hummed her way into the room with a platter of pot roast in one hand and a bowl of buttered noodles in the other, a smile plastered across her gently lined face. “I hope everyone brought their appetites this evening because this dinner is a favorite of my guests.” Then, without waiting for a response, the woman handed both to Claire and returned to the kitchen for the gravy and the vegetables.

  “She’s upset, isn’t she?” Virginia whispered across the table. “That’s why she wasn’t on the porch this afternoon, isn’t it?”

  For a moment, Claire actually considered concocting a story that had her aunt visiting an elderly neighbor or running to the store for a few needed ingredients, but, in the end, she simply nodded. Diane needed support more than anything right now and all four of the guests seated at the table seemed ready and willing to offer just that.

  “With any luck, this whole Karble mess will be over soon and Diane’s next round of guests won’t have to be the wiser.” Wayne’s eyes widened at the sight of the pot roast platter in Claire’s left hand. “Because, I tell you, there’s not a hotel around here that feeds you like Diane Weatherly does.”

  Kayla leaned to the side to afford Claire an unobstructed path to her plate. “Unfortunately, if the Heavenly Times is like most newspapers in the country these days, that story will be accessible to anyone doing a search on Sleep Heavenly.”

  The fork Claire was using to transfer slices of pot roast to each guest’s plate slipped from her hand and clattered against the edge of Kayla’s salad bowl. Quickly, she recovered the utensil and glanced over her shoulder for any indication Diane had returned with the gravy. When she was satisfied she hadn’t, she spoke quickly. “If it’s possible, could we keep the conversation light this evening? Diane is having a hard time with this right now and I hate to see her so upset.”

  Seconds later, Melinda strode into the room, her long blonde hair secured in a ponytail that hit the midpoint of her back. “Sorry I’m late.” Quickly, the public relations executive made her way around the table and sat down in her chair, glancing around at the nearby plates as she did. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the main platter.

  “Pot roast.” Virginia grabbed hold of her napkin and unfolded it across her lap. “It’s one of Diane’s most popular dishes.”

  “I’m here
. I’m here.” Diane breezed back into the room with a gravy boat in each hand. “The gravy is nice and bubbly and it’s extra delicious over the noodles…” The woman’s voice faded away as Melinda came into view. “Ms. Simon. I…I wasn’t sure you’d be joining us this evening.”

  “Well, I’m here.” Melinda shifted her plate to the left and waited for Claire to come around the table with the platter of meat and the bowl of noodles. “Has anyone seen Ann today?”

  Slowly, Diane ladled up the gravy and dispensed it across everyone’s food, her hand shaking ever so slightly as she did. “I brought a tray of food to her room this afternoon but she didn’t want it. The poor dear is beside herself with grief.”

  “I’m surprised she is staying on,” Doug chimed in before rushing to soften his words. “I mean, I would think she’d want to surround herself with family inside the confines of her own home.”

  Melinda looked up from the piece of meat she was cutting and made a face. “There is no family. Ann’s parents died years ago and she and Rob never had any children…together.”

  Seeing the shake in her aunt’s hand intensify, Claire took over gravy duty, making her way around the table one final time while Diane fiddled with her apron off to the side and Virginia clucked softly beneath her breath.

  “I’m guessing she wants to stay close while the investigation is going on.” Wayne chased his last bite of dinner around the plate and then looked up at Claire for seconds. “Diane, I think you’ve officially outdone yourself with this meal, and that’s high praise if I say so myself.”

  The outer corners of Diane’s mouth twitched slightly but stopped short of forming an actual smile.

  “I suppose Wayne is right,” Virginia mused. “If something awful like that happened to him, I wouldn’t go anywhere until I had answers.”

  “I agree with Virginia.” Doug forked up a few gravy-coated noodles and popped them into his mouth. “And then, once she has those answers, I imagine she’ll be tasked with trying to figure out who should step into her husband’s shoes and run the company.”