A Plain Malice: An Appleseed Creek Mystery (Appleseed Creek Mystery Series Book 4)

by Amanda Flower

“Let’s drop off our bags and meet in the dining room,” Timothy said.

  Instead of taking the elevator, I ran up the staircase to the second floor. The hall was quiet and dim as the sun set outside. The buggy-patterned carpet muffled my footsteps.

  I peered out the large picture window at the end of the hallway, which overlooked the parking lot, before unlocking my door. Below, I thought I saw movement in the shadow of one of the lilac bushes at the edge of the lot but then nothing. After dinner, I would take a look around the grounds. The sun would be up for at least another hour.

  In room number twenty-eight, I dropped my suitcase and purse in the middle of one of the twin beds. As I was on the second floor, I had a balcony instead of a patio at the back of my room. I opened the French doors and scanned the gardens for the shadow. Seeing nothing, I went back into the room and tucked my cell phone and room key into the pockets of my jeans.

  Laughter guided me through the lounge to the dining room. Tour guests sat at three of the four large round tables. Hudson sat at the fourth table alone. Half-eaten wedges of Amish pie sat in front of each person.

  “Chloe, sit with us,” Gertie crowed. She was at a table with Melinda and, by process of elimination, with whom I believed to be Duke and Doris, the couple who Becky met at Young’s. There was one empty seat at their table. I noticed Earl Kepler sat at a table with Fred, Nadine, Bitty, and Charles. They seemed to be having a grand time discussing the state of affairs in Washington. LeeAnne, Raellen, Jimbo, and Bobbi Jo sat at the third table. The three women discussed the Amish quilting patterns, and Jimbo looked like he wanted to stick a fork in his eye.

  I felt a hand on my back. “You go and sit with them,” Timothy said. “I want to talk to Hudson.”

  I gave him an anxious look.

  “There’s nothing to be worried about,” he said.

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  Gertie poked Melinda in the side with her index finger. “You move down one. I want to sit next to Chloe. She can tell us all about the Amish.”

  “I can sit here,” I said, pulling out the chair across from Gertie and next to Duke Kite. “Please don’t move, Melinda.”

  “It’s fine,” Melinda said curtly. She stood and circled to the other side of the table.

  Gertie patted Melinda’s empty seat. “See, Melinda doesn’t mind at all. Sit here next to me.”

  Embarrassed, I moved to the other side of the table. The vantage point gave me a clear view of Timothy and Hudson. The bus driver didn’t seem to be too pleased with the conversation. Occasionally, he grunted at Timothy between bites of Dutch Apple pie.

  Ivy came to the table with a glass of water for me. “Would you like dessert too?”

  “No thank you. Do you have any shepherd’s pie left?”

  “We do.” She removed her notepad from her apron pocket. “It comes with soup or salad. Which would you like?”

  “Just the pie will be fine.”

  “That will be right out.”

  I thanked her and sipped my water.

  Ivy crossed the room to get Timothy’s order.

  Gertie wiggled back in forth in her seat. “Who is the hunk?”

  I nearly spit out a mouthful of water. Melinda handed me a napkin. I gave her a grateful smile. “The hunk?”

  “Why yes. Don’t play coy with us. I can see how he looks at you. If a young man watched me like that, I’d never leave his side.”

  Duke chuckled. “Gertie, I didn’t know you were a cougar.”

  More water threatened to choke me. I set the glass down. I wasn’t thirsty anyway.

  Doris chuckled as she forked a bit piece of apple. “And how did he look at her?”

  Gertie’s lips curled upwards. “Like she was the last cupcake on the planet.”

  Thankfully, I had given up drinking water. Hydration was overrated.

  .

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gertie tapped her fork on the side of her dish. “If I were sixty years younger, I’d be giving you a run for your money. How does hunk-o-lovin’ feel about older women?”

  “I don’t know,” I squeaked. I couldn’t wait to share this conversation with Tanisha. She’d be rolling on the floor by this point. “I’m three years younger than he is.”

  “His loss,” she muttered.

  Duke stirred his coffee. “Age is just a number. Right, Gertie?”

  Doris cut the remainder of her pie into tiny pieces with her fork and knife. “Gertie, you are a trip.”

  Melinda looked heavenward.

  “I’m sorry this is the first chance I’ve had to speak to you both,” I said to the married couple.

  Duke reached across the table and squeezed my fingertips because the table was too large for a proper handshake. “Nothing to apologize for. We really appreciate you jumping in as our tour guide.”

  Doris forked a bite of pie. “Duke and I have been looking forward to this trip all year long. We were heartbroken when it looked like it would be canceled.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t want to sounds callous. We feel terrible about Dudley and Ruby.”

  Her husband covered her hand with his. “We do.”

  “I think you met my friend Becky today at Young’s Family Restaurant. She was your waitress.”

  Doris swallowed her pie. “What a stunning girl! I told her that she could be a model. She has the height and body for it.”

  “She’s Timothy’s sister.”

  Everyone at the table looked over at Timothy. “I can see the family resemblance,” Doris said. “What a beautiful family.”

  “Good genes,” Gertie said.

  Melinda sipped her water. Her pie plate was untouched. “I think I saw him at the farm where we had the accident this morning.”

  Ivy brought my shepherd’s pie to the table. It was a typical Amish-sized serving extra, extra large. I thanked her and picked up my fork. “He was there. His family owns that farm.”

  “But he’s not Amish.”

  The steam from the shepherd pie hit me in the face. “He left the church but is still close with his family.”

  “Are they allowed to do that? Don’t they get shunned? I saw a program on cable television about Amish shunning each other.” Gertie pointed her spoon at me. “It’s shameful.”

  I shifted in my seat. “The Amish do shun church members if they leave the church after they have been baptized Amish. At least that’s how the Appleseed Creek district operates. Timothy and his sister Becky left the community before either one of them were baptized.”

  “Still it can’t be easy for them to go back. What do they think of you dating their son? You don’t look like a runaway Amish.” Gertie scrutinized me. “I’d say you are as far from Amish as a girl can get.”

  “Amish who have left the community don’t look any different than any other English—that’s what the Amish call non-Amish people—person you might see in town,” I said.

  “Are you saying you’re a runaway Amish?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m from Cleveland.”

  “Thought so,” Gertie said with a victorious nod.

  I placed a spoonful of the shepherd’s pie in my mouth. It was delicious. It wasn’t until I started eating that I realized how hungry I was.

  “Do you know where Pearl is?” Gertie asked. “Did the police arrest her? Do they think she’s the killer?”

  I swallowed. “Pearl is staying at another hotel. It was her choice.”

  Doris nodded sagely. “It must be difficult for her to be on the tour.”

  Gertie pointed the business end of her spoon at Doris. “Bah. I bet she’s happy to be rid of Ruby. All the two of them ever did was fight.”

  “They did argue a lot on the bus.” Duke added four lumps of sugar to his coffee.

  Doris pushed the sugar bowl away. “That’s enough for you.”

  He frowned. “Doris and I sat in the seat right behind the cousins and listened to them squabble all the way across Pennsylvania. I wanted to throw m
yself off the bus by the time we reached the Ohio border.”

  “What did they argue about?” I asked.

  “Anything and everything. Ruby was the more vocal of the two. She always seemed to have the last word.” Duke finger walked toward the sugar bowl.

  “Duke, you know what the doctor said about your sweet tooth.”

  “He’s a quack,” Duke said as he turned back to me. “Those two made me think about my kids squabbling in the back of my car.”

  That was interesting. “The bus was half empty, why didn’t they sit in separate seats? There was plenty of room.”

  Duke shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Was it mostly minor disagreements like that?”

  Duke nodded. “Maybe Pearl couldn’t take Ruby’s complaining anymore and snapped.”

  “Then why would she kill Dudley too?” Melinda asked. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

  Duke shrugged. “To throw the police off the trail. It’s what I would do.”

  “Duke!” Doris yelped. “He’s kidding. He’s kidding.”

  Melinda pushed her uneaten pie away from her and folded her hands on the table. “That’s a big risk and seems excessive.”

  “He was joking.” Doris swatted her husband with her napkin. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

  Gertie picked up her fork. “Dudley wasn’t anything worth writing home about. He wasn’t at all enthusiastic about the Amish culture. At times he even sounded like he disliked it. Strange for a man leading tours through Amish Country.”

  Doris set her water glass on the table. “I agree with Gertie about this. Duke and I spoke about it many times when we were in Lancaster County. Dudley didn’t like the Amish. It was clear.”

  I lost my appetite. “What would he do?”

  Gertie sipped her water before answering. “He called everything about the Amish into question.”

  This was not what I wanted to hear.

  Melinda clenched her hands together on the table.

  When she saw me looking at them, she slid them to her lap.

  “Is everything all right, Melinda?” I asked.

  Her dark eyes snapped in my direction. “I’m fine. I was just waiting for—”

  Gertie interrupted her. “She wants to tuck me into bed so she can have some free time on her own.”

  “You know that’s not true, Gertie.” She stirred her ice tea. “But I would like to go for a walk in the gardens before it’s too dark.”

  “Melinda loves plants,” Gertie said.

  Melinda laughed. “That’s a funny statement, Gertie. Almost everyone loves plants.”

  “Not like you.” Gertie scooted back her chair. It barely moved. Melinda stood and pulled Gertie’s chair out helping her to her feet.

  My throat was parched from all the talking. I lifted my water glass to my lips.

  “It was nice to eat with you, and Chloe,” she patted my shoulder with her wrinkled hand. “If you get tired of the hunk-o-lovin’ over there just send him my way. I’ll show him a good time.”

  Again I choked on a mouthful of water. I would have to remember liquids and Gertie did not mix.

  “She’s a riot,” Duke said after Gertie and Melinda left the dining room. The guests at the other tables were beginning to leave too.

  I forked a piece of carrot. “Was there anything else in particular you remember from Ruby and Pearl’s conversations?”

  Duke creased his brow in thought. “No. I can’t recall anything. They reminded me a little bit of Laverne and Shirley. They even have the same color of hair.”

  At my confused look, Duke laughed. “It’s an old television sitcom from the 1970s. Way before your time. It was about these two women friends who were funny and bickered.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  Duke sighed. “Google it.”

  Doris laughed. “I think Melinda had the right idea. We should turn in. It’s been a trying day.”

  Duke stood and pulled out his wife’s chair. “Don’t forget your purse, dear.”

  She smiled at him as if she were a teenager mooning over a boy she liked. Now, that was a last cupcake look.

  I stood too. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Chloe,” they said and shuffled out of the dining room.

  Timothy was the only one left in the dining room. I picked up my plate and water and moved to sit across from him. He had finished his dinner. Having been caught up in the conversation with Gertie and the others, I had barely touched mine. Even though it was cold, it was still delicious. “What did Hudson have to say?”

  Timothy cut into his slice of pie with his fork. “Not much. That guy grunts a lot.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Looks like you had a pretty deep conversation going on at your table.”

  I told him what I had heard about Ruby and Pearl’s relationship. I left out the Laverne and Shirley reference. If I didn’t know what it was, I knew Timothy wouldn’t.

  “Was that all you talked about?”

  “No.” I smiled slowly. “Gertie said you were a hunk-o-lovin’, and she would like to date you.”

  Timothy choked on his pie. Apparently, Gertie had that effect on people even when she wasn’t in the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stood. “Come on. I want to have a walk around the grounds before it gets too dark.”

  Timothy wiped at his mouth in a napkin. “Is this a nice evening stroll or more sleuthing?”

  I held out my hand to him. “We will call it a combo.”

  Timothy and I went out the back door of the inn. The garden was massive. Several of the bus passengers walked through it. LeeAnne and Raellen admired the bluebells, and Charles took photo after photo of the bleeding heart. I couldn’t help but wonder how many others those plants were poisonous and which one could kill a person. I shivered. I didn’t see Melinda. Maybe she had changed her mind about touring the garden after she helped Gertie to her room.

  “Are you cold?” Timothy asked.

  “I’m fine. It’s just when we got back to the inn this evening, I thought I saw someone in the garden through the upstairs hall window.”

  Timothy shrugged. “You might have. What were they doing?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. I just caught a glimpse of a figure. I’m half convinced now that I imagined it. Everyone was there when we reached the dining room.”

  Timothy and I walked around the side the inn just in time to see Bishop Hooley climb out of a buggy. The deacon and Ephraim spoke in hushed tones at the hitching post.

  Ephraim knew the deacon? Of course, he knew the deacon; everyone in the district did. But how well?

  Timothy gave my hand a squeeze and then released it before approaching the two men.

  Deacon Sutter tethered the horse to a hitching post. Ephraim hurried away toward the back garden.

  “I d-didn’t expect to find the two of you here,” the bishop said.

  “Nor did we expect to see you,” I said.

  Gravel crushed under the deacon’s feet as he joined us.

  “Deacon Sutter and I are here to make sure that the p-passengers aren’t too upset by today.” The bishop paused. “We would have been here sooner, but we had a brief meeting of the district elders to discuss what has happened.”

  My stomach clenched and I couldn’t help but wonder if they discussed the Troyer family at that meeting.

  Timothy must have been thinking the same thing because he said, “You must know my father would never have done anything to hurt those people or jeopardize the visit.”

  The deacon smoothed his black beard. “Perhaps it was simply a case of carelessness. Either way it harms the district.”

  Timothy balled his fists at his sides. “I can assure you my father had nothing to do with the accident.”

  “You can assure us of nothing. You are no longer a member of our community. Whatever you have to say is of no consequence to us.”

  The bishop’s eyes darted from Timothy to
the deacon and back again. “Deacon Sutter does not mean to offend. At the meeting, we agreed to leave this matter to the police. In this case, the district should not be involved.”

  The deacon’s jaw twitched. He didn’t agree.

  Had he tampered with the milk to get back at the Troyers? And now, the bishop decided to do nothing?

  “C-Chloe, thank you for taking over as the tour guide,” the bishop stuttered. “Chief Rose told us that she asked you to do that. We are grateful. It’s important that this tour goes well. At least it is important that the rest of the tour goes well.” His eyes flicked to the deacon. “However, the elders have decided that having the bus tour here was a mistake. We will not have such an event in the district again.”

  A faint satisfied smile crossed the deacon’s face. Hadn’t Grandfather Zook said that morning that the deacon was against the bus tour? Would he go so far as to kill someone to make sure it never happened again?

  “I’m happy to help,” I said.

  The deacon moved a few paces closer to me. “Ya. You seem to always want to help our community.”

  Timothy stepped closer to me as if to block the deacon’s glare.

  “Now, Deacon.” Bishop Hooley forced a laugh. “You know Chloe did help us this time.”

  The deacon scowled but said nothing more.

  “Bishop, can I ask you some questions about this morning?” I asked.

  He smoothed his beard, and his eyes slid over to the deacon.

  “I don’t know what the bishop can tell you,” Deacon Sutter said. “He was with me the entire time. We know nothing.”

  “Then maybe you both can answer my questions since you were there that morning.”

  The deacon shook his head, but the bishop held up a shaky hand. “It is gut, Deacon. We can answer her questions.”

  “We have already spoken to the police. That is enough,” the deacon argued.

  The bishop frowned. “I will answer her questions.”

  Before Deacon Sutter could say more, I asked, “Did you speak with Dudley when he arrived with the tour?”

  “Ya. He was the one I had been in the most contact with to bring Blue Suede Tours to Knox County.”

  “Did he seem upset or nervous?” I asked.