“All right.” A smile played on Shane’s lips, and Callie had the uncomfortable sensation that he was thinking about a fish snagged on a line. She was the fish. “So you find the coat, search it for identification, find the phone, think it might belong to Tobias. What happens then, Callie? You went out to his place and asked him? Or did you go to the feed store?”
Instead of answering his question, she tried to remember what her rights were. She hadn’t been sworn in or anything. Not that she intended to lie, but she couldn’t exactly tell the truth.
Fortunately, she was rescued by her lawyer. “Look, Shane. You have the phone. What else do you need from my client?”
“I’d like to follow the evidence trail. Where else has it been since it left Reuben’s pocket?”
She and Adalyn had been over this scenario. After she went to Adalyn’s office and learned that Adalyn never received her message — it had been buried under a heap of mail — they’d discussed what she did and did not have to say.
She did not have to offer information.
She did have to answer direct questions.
“I took it to Trent.”
“McCallister?” Shane boomed.
Was he in danger of having a heart attack? His face was actually red and sweat was beading on his forehead. He’d been so calm during the Stakehorn case. What was with him today?
“Why would you take evidence to our town newspaper?”
“I didn’t know who it belonged to, and I couldn’t get past the passcode. I thought he might be able to help me.”
Now the smirk was back. Maybe it was better than the yelling, but Callie wasn’t sure. “Friends, huh? And was your friend able to help you?”
As he questioned her, she went through the entire last few days — how she’d been stumped by the passcode, how Trent had listened to the phone message, how he was able to trace the SIM card registration number and the origin of the call. She left out the part about the fight with Trent outside her shop.
Shane’s face grew redder with each detail, but there were no more explosions. Finally Adalyn picked up her black Louis Vuitton bag and touched Callie’s arm. “I trust you’re satisfied we’ve done everything possible to rectify this matter.”
“You trust I’m satisfied?” Shane shot back.
“Did your coffeemaker explode today, Black? Maybe your dog chewed up your remote last night? Or did that clunker you drive around refuse to start?” This time it was Callie doing the talking, and Adalyn was quiet.
“What’s your point, sweetheart?”
“My point is that I thought you’d be happy I brought you a piece of evidence you weren’t able to uncover yourself.”
“Versus hiding it from me?” Shane stepped closer, close enough that Callie could smell the starch from his shirt, along with the light scent of his aftershave. Callie felt a current running between them, an actual electrical charge, and it scared the boots off her. His smell brought back images of the black diamond ski slope, him grabbing her arm as she was about to fall, the urgency in his eyes, and how she’d followed him into the woods, to safety.
She closed her eyes for a second, trying to reconcile what she’d experienced in her dream — because she had experienced it — with the flesh and blood man standing in front of her. Her pulse accelerated and sweat gathered in her palms. When she blinked her eyes open, Shane’s face was only inches from hers.
“Save it for date night, you two.” Adalyn nudged Callie out of the office and toward the station’s front door.
“Call me if you find anything else. As soon as you find anything else, and before you call the Gazette!” Shane’s words cut off as the door slapped shut behind them.
The cold autumn breeze tugged at Callie’s coat, clearing a dozen questions tumbling through her mind.
“Don’t let him grate on you.” Adalyn pulled out her car keys. “How about coffee and pie?”
“I’d love to, but I need to go and check on the shop. I’ve been leaving Lydia alone too much lately.”
“Understandable. She’s a good girl, but when you’re a sole proprietor it’s very much like being a single mom. You always feel as if you should be somewhere else.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. Not to mention, Max misses me.” Callie hesitated, knowing she should go, but needing some reassurance. “Do you think the phone will help or hurt Reuben’s case?”
“It’s hard to say.” Adalyn glanced out at the cars and buggies making their way to and from town. “I’ve learned through the years that I can’t determine the outcome of a case — be it civil or criminal. All I can do is my best to represent my client before the court in a favorable light, to make sure his or her rights are protected, and to guide him or her through the legal process. The rest is in higher hands.”
Callie wondered if Adalyn meant the judge, the jury, or divine hands. She decided she didn’t want to know. “According to Deborah, Reuben hasn’t made your job very easy.”
Adalyn shook her head, gray hair slipping a little from the bun at the back of her neck. “Like many Amish men, Reuben is reticent, but there’s something more going on, and he’s not willing to share it with me — even if it means he spends the rest of his life in jail. Based on that, I’d say any new evidence in this case has a fair chance of being a good thing.”
“I wish Shane were on our side.”
Adalyn stopped fidgeting with her keys, studied her a moment. “Shane’s not on anyone’s side. He’s just doing his job, and he’ll do it well.”
Callie nodded, but felt unsatisfied with Adalyn’s reply.
Reaching in her bag, Adalyn pulled out a business card. “My cell and home phone numbers are on this one — just in case you don’t have them from the last time I represented you. In the future, if I don’t return your call in an hour, try the other numbers.”
Callie remained standing in the parking lot after Adalyn had driven away. She did need to return to the shop, but she had the niggling feeling that there was something more important she needed to do. Go see Ira again? It was past noon and he’d probably be resting.
Setting aside the uneasy feeling she had, Callie decided it best to wait until tomorrow morning to visit him. So she climbed into her car and drove the mile to her shop. Perhaps a few hours of stocking shelves and selling quilting supplies would help put her emotions back on track.
But it didn’t, and then Lydia called Callie to the phone. It was the Grossdaddi House. Ira Bontrager had been kicked by a horse and was at the local medical center. He didn’t appear to have any serious injuries, but he was upset and he was asking for her.
“You should go,” Lydia said.
“I hate to leave you here alone. You covered the morning shift by yourself.”
“I took a two-hour lunch break, remember? You asked me to go shopping in Mrs. Knepp’s quilt shop and check out her aisle arrangements, but she caught me and insisted I leave. So I had some extra time on my hands.”
“That’s right. I still can’t believe she kicked you out.”
“She knew I was spying.”
“Define spying.”
“She caught me with the camera you sent.”
“So I wanted a few pictures. She won’t allow me in the store anymore.”
“Do you blame her? Maybe you should call a truce.”
“A truce? But she’s stealing my business! I tried working with her, but she won’t accept my friendship. The world thinks Amish folk aren’t competitive but let me say, the owner of Quilts and Needles is determined to be cutthroat competition!” Callie jabbed a needle into a pin cushion, then looked at Lydia and smiled sweetly. “Forget about Mrs. Knepp. I need to focus on Ira. Thank you for agreeing to stay until we close. All I need you to do is lock up.”
“No problem.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure.”
Callie pulled the young girl into a hug. “You’re an angel. Could you take Max out for a w
alk before you leave?”
“Of course I will.”
“Somehow I don’t think they’ll allow him in the medical center.”
Callie was halfway to her car when Deborah pulled her buggy into the lot.
“You’re leaving?” Deborah asked.
“Yes. I’m on my way to see Ira.”
“Who is Ira?”
“Ira Bontrager, the old man I told you about who lost his daughter.”
“Callie, you can’t really be trying to help him find her.” Deborah reached for Joshua, who had pulled a banana from the bag of groceries and was trying to put it into his mouth without peeling it.
“It’s a long story, but he’s been hurt and he’s at the medical center. Now he’s asking for me, so I’m going to see if I can help.”
“Doesn’t Ira’s son live here in town?” Deborah peeled the banana and broke off a piece, then handed the smaller bite-sized chunk back to her son.
“Yes, but … it’s complicated. I wish we had time to talk. Are you headed home now?”
“I have an hour yet. I stopped by to see if you had time to run an errand with me?”
“Sure, as long as we hurry. I need to be at the medical center before visiting hours are over.”
Callie hurried into her storage room and fetched the car seat she’d purchased at a garage sale. Within five minutes they’d buckled Joshua into the backseat of her car and were on their way.
“This will give us time to catch up,” Deborah said, as they drove out of Shipshe. “Joshua’s been feeling badly, but I gave him Tylenol and he seems better. He’s cutting teeth.”
Callie peered into her rearview mirror at Joshua, who was reaching for the banana Deborah was still holding. Some things in life could be solved with a bite of soft fruit. The thought flashed through her mind and brought her the first real peace of the day.
“I had to go and see Shane about the phone,” Callie told Deborah.
“Oh dear. Does he think it’s going to help Reuben?”
“Those weren’t his exact words. He did holler a lot.”
“Shane does that sometimes, especially when he’s worried.”
“He didn’t arrest me, so yeah — let’s call it worry. How was your day?”
“I tried to run down some leads, but they didn’t pan out either.”
Callie looked at Deborah, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “You’ve been sleuthing without me?”
“It was only to the bank and the bishop. Mrs. Barnwell at the bank was kind enough but it was a dead end. Bishop Elam …” Deborah stared out the car window at the falling leaves.
“What is it? What did your bishop say?”
“That he’d seen Reuben in town the Saturday before the body was found, and Reuben asked to have a word with him. The bishop is a private man and would never tell another person’s confidences, but he did share the nature of Reuben’s concerns. Reuben wanted to know whether the Ordnung would have him put the needs of a freind over the needs of family.”
“And what was Bishop Elam’s answer?”
“A wise one — that the Ordnung and the Lord would never ask you to make such a choice. That there would always remain a way to do both. He said Reuben wasn’t satisfied with the answer.”
“Imagine that,” Callie muttered.
“Ya. It’s not like Reuben to question answers from the bishop, though he’s been known to be stubborn when he sets his mind to something, as you can tell from this situation.”
Callie pulled into the parking lot of the RV factory. “And he asked this before the girl died?”
“Ya. Bishop Elam was sure of it.”
“So unless she was in that pond for two days — and I doubt that — Reuben wasn’t asking about covering up a murder.” Callie lowered her voice as they walked into the door of the factory.
The receptionist didn’t look surprised to see an Englisch woman with an Amish woman and her baby. She did seem a bit uncertain as to what to do with their “Information Wanted” poster. Finally she called the floor supervisor, who took them into his office.
“I’ve definitely never seen a girl who looks like this, but then we don’t hire many Amish girls, as you can imagine.” In his fifties and practically bald, the supervisor slid the poster back across the desk. “I’m a little curious as to why you all are here. I already explained all of this to Detective Black.”
Callie and Deborah glanced at each other.
“He was here?” Callie asked.
“About an hour ago.”
“Can you tell us what he said?” Callie wound a piece of her hair round and round her finger.
“Same things you did. Showed me the same poster. Asked the same questions. Say, I wish I could help, but I do have a business to run here. We have quite a few young Amish men on our floor and part of the reason I hire them is they don’t give me any trouble. Hard enough to make a profit these days.”
“We understand. Danki for your time.” Deborah stood and moved toward the door.
Driving back to Shipshe, Callie and Deborah both tried to find something positive gained from their trip. “We were able to spend time together,” Callie pointed out.
“Ya. Why don’t you follow me to the house for dinner? Maybe we can think our way around this.”
“No. I really feel I should go see Ira. Deborah, I want to know more about the Palm Sunday Tornadoes. I did some research on the Internet, but I would like a more detailed, more personal account. Do you know of anyone who could help me?”
“You’re a bit determined about this.”
“If anything it could ease Ira’s mind …” But Callie was remembering the confidence in Ira’s voice when he’d said he knew his daughter was still alive. How could he know that? He couldn’t. Not after all these years.
“There’s a display at the visitors’ center that gives quite a bit of information.”
“Yes, I remember you told me that before.”
“And then there’s the president of the historical society.”
“Shipshe has a historical society?”
Deborah turned to hand Joshua a soft toy to play with, then reached into her purse and pulled out a receipt and a pen. She scribbled a name on the back of the receipt. “I don’t know her phone number.”
“I’ll find it. Thank you so much.”
“Remember, right now we need to stay focused on Reuben.”
“I understand, but I don’t know what else we can do. We seem to have hit a dead end.”
“Gotte will give us direction, Callie. He always does.” Deborah pulled Callie into a hug before climbing into her buggy with Joshua.
Then they drove off in different directions, the afternoon sun and the fall wind sending a shower of leaves down between them.
Chapter 27
“ADALYN’S HERE TO SEE YOU.” Gavin’s voice was quiet, revealing nothing. There’d been a type of truce between him and Reuben for the last few days, since Reuben had agreed to see Tobias. Since Tobias had stormed out of the jail.
Reuben glanced up from his bunk in surprise.
He hadn’t been expecting to see Adalyn Landt again so soon.
What more was there to say about the upcoming hearing?
Why had she come?
Maybe Samuel had returned.
But the boy had run — for whatever reason, he had fled. No, he wouldn’t be returning to Shipshewana unless he, too, had metal cuffs around his wrists. And how would he survive such a thing? Some days Reuben didn’t think he could endure it another moment himself.
As Reuben allowed Gavin to place the handcuffs around his wrists, waited for the door of his cell roll open, and walked down the hall, he thought of how quickly one’s routine could change. He should be in the field today. He could feel it in his bones. But something told him he wouldn’t be sifting earth between his fingers for some time, and it wasn’t a lack of faith.
It was a deep sorrow building in his soul.
Then he saw the sheet of pape
r — the photograph — Adalyn placed on the table. Pulled from her black leather bag — her Louis Vuitton bag. He saw it and understood why she’d come. Shane Black was putting all the pieces together, and soon even Reuben’s silence wouldn’t be able to hide the facts.
“It’s an Englisch phone, ya. What about it?”
“We go before the judge in six days. By then Black will know every call that has been made to or from this phone. And he’ll know where the person was standing when the calls were made.”
“Black found it?”
“Actually Callie found it — in your coat pocket. Any idea how it wound up there?”
He tried to think back to the evening Samuel had come to him. It was a jumble of images and words, promises given long ago, and decisions made in haste. Reuben was accustomed to resolving things in his life deliberately, often over a period of days if not weeks.
That day, there’d been cause to move quickly.
“Not sure,” he admitted.
“You’re not sure.”
“You heard me.”
“That’s not going to work on the witness stand.”
“Thought you said I wouldn’t have to testify.”
“True. The state can’t compel you to testify against yourself. But we had discussed that it might help your case if you did give your version of what happened that night.”
Reuben scratched his face, trying to remember. Had he picked up the phone? He didn’t remember doing that. He didn’t know why he would have under the circumstances. He rarely even used the phone shacks as most things he needed to say could wait until he saw the person he needed to talk to face-to-face, so why would he have grabbed this phone?
Shaking his head, Reuben glanced up at Adalyn — weariness once again settling over him like a blanket. “Can’t recall picking it up, but I’m also not accustomed to anyone else putting their hands in my pockets. If that’s where it was found, then I must have put it there.”
To his surprise, Adalyn shrugged and put the sheet of paper back into her leather bag. He might have been seeing things, but it seemed she offered a hint of a smile. Soon Reuben’s own frown disappeared. He didn’t know quite what the joke was, but she was tickled about something.
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