Maybe she wasn’t a match with Wil as she had thought. Maybe loneliness was the only factor that had driven her to find comfort and companionship with Wil.
Chapter 10.
And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul: neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common.
Acts 4:32
Typically Emma would have offered to cook when Wil had guests but considering their cross words of late, Emma thought she would leave Wil to cook on his own. She thought by doing so he would appreciate her more and not speak to her so meanly in the future.
She arrived at Wil’s haus at 6 p.m. only to find that Silvie was already there so she assumed that Sabrina would be as well.
Silvie and Bailey were talking on the porch on two large wooden chairs. “Hello, Emma,” Silvie said.
“Hello, you two. Where are Wil and Sabrina?”
“Sabrina’s helping Wil in the kitchen.”
The nerve of the girl; she’s trying to step right into my shoes. Emma was angry with herself for not helping Wil as she usually did. Because of her pride and selfishness, she had unknowingly opened a way for Sabrina to work her way into Wil’s heart.
Emma looked down at the apple pie in her hands. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll just take the apple pie into the kitchen.” Was she going to be the odd one out tonight? Silvie and Bailey were attracted to each other and Wil and Sabrina had their inventions to chat about. Emma walked quickly into the kitchen. “I brought apple pie.”
“Denke, Emma. I love your apple pie.”
“I know. I made it especially for you.” Emma tried to make it sound as though they were a couple in front of Sabrina. “Hello, Sabrina. Denke for helping Wil; I usually help him with the cooking, but I was busy with other things today.”
“Hello, Emma. I couldn’t see Wil do all the cooking himself. He needs a fraa to look after him.” Sabrina shot an adoring look at Wil, which annoyed Emma greatly.
Wil and she were courting, didn’t Sabrina know that; hadn’t Silvie told her to keep away from him?
When Wil remained silent, Emma walked out of the kitchen and sat out on the porch with Bailey and Silvie. They stopped speaking when she approached.
“How are you going with things, Bailey?” Emma asked.
“Fine, denke, Emma. I’m learning a lot and taking it all in. I’ll be Amish in no time.”
“That’s gut.” Trying not to clench her mouth, Emma asked, “Silvie, how long is Sabrina staying with you?”
“I don’t know. She’s enjoying a little freedom away from mamm.”
That was the answer that Emma did not want to hear. She had no one to discipline her and she was set loose on the menner in the community, in particular Wil.
Wil and Sabrina came through the front door. “I’m just going to show Sabrina some of my inventions in the barn. Do you want to come with us, Emma?”
“Jah, I’ll go and have a look.” Emma considered that she was in a difficult position. While she was glad that Wil asked her, she did not want to appear to Sabrina as though she was jealous of her. She would also have to leave Bailey and Silvie alone with each other.
While Wil showed Sabrina and Emma all the things he had invented, Sabrina made all the appropriate oohs and ahhhs while Emma found it difficult to muster the appropriate enthusiasm.
The whole night Emma felt totally out of sorts. Sabrina took over her role as hostess and Emma spent the night forcing a smile on her face.
Once everyone had gone, Emma turned to Wil. “I’d better get going too.”
“Nee, wait, Emma. I’m sorry for what I said to you on Sunday. It was mean.”
“You were right, Wil. I’ve been so consumed with myself and feeling sorry for what happened to me that I haven’t been aware of other people’s needs. Well, your needs.”
Wil said, “I’ll walk you home.”
Although they had both apologized to one another, something had changed. Emma knew in her heart that things between them were not the same.
* * *
The tension between Wil and Emma played on her mind so much that Emma knew she had to have a straight talk with Wil about it. The next morning Emma stopped in on Wil on her way to town. “Are you there, Wil?”
Wil came to the door with a coffee cup in his hands. “Emma, come in.”
“How about we sit out here, in the morning sun?”
“Okay, would you like a kaffe?”
“Nee, I just had one at home. Wil, I feel things between us are different.”
Wil smiled. “Are they?”
“If something’s important to you, I will try and understand why it interests you.”
Wil reached out and took hold of Emma’s hand. “Let’s not speak of it again. We said all we needed to say last night.”
“Okay,” Emma said.
“Let’s just enjoy this beautiful sunny day before the cold weather sets in.”
Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly while she enjoyed the sunlight on her face. She was happy not to speak of things that they would disagree on.
“Have you heard the latest about Frank?” Emma tried to change the subject.
“Nee, what’s happened?” Wil asked.
“Oh, I know nothing. I wondered if you’d heard anything. It was a little difficult to talk last night with all the people around.”
“Nee, I’ve heard of nothing. They are trying to locate Frank’s will and that’s all I know,” Wil said.
Emma bit her lip. She had to keep quiet about the will since she wasn’t supposed to know about the will. “Ettie did a bit of digging about Frank’s past before he came to the community. Anyway, he was an auctioneer and Ettie seems to think that he might have some paintings hidden away somewhere.” Emma giggled nervously knowing that she should not have talked about things that came out of the widows’ meeting.
Wil, sprung to his feet. “Emma, I completely forgot about the paintings.”
Emma rose to her feet. “What paintings? Wil, what do you mean?”
“It was years ago; that’s why I forgot about them. One day Frank brought some paintings to me. That was just after his fraa, Sally, died and before he moved into the smaller haus.”
“Go on.”
“He said if anything should happen to him, I’m to give them to his boys.”
“Where are the paintings now?” Emma asked.
“I wrapped them in brown paper and a large blanket and put them up in the roof.”
“Go and see if they’re still there, but don’t tell Bailey what you’re doing.”
“Okay, I’ll be back soon. I think Bailey’s out with Silvie anyway.”
“Gut. Wait, I’ll come with you.”
The two of them walked quickly into Wil’s haus. Wil had a ladder already at the back door as he’d been working on his roof. He climbed the ladder and pushed aside the entry into the ceiling. “Hand me that kerosene lamp, would you?”
Emma lit the lamp and handed it to him.
“Jah, seems they’re still here.”
“That’s far enough. Both of you stay where you are.”
Emma held her stomach at the sight of Bailey Abler with a gun in his hand. Wil ducked his head back into the room.
Bailey took a step closer. “Emma, stay where you are and put your hands in the air. Wil, get the paintings and come down the ladder very, very slowly.”
Emma obeyed him and raised her hands above her head. Once Wil got to the bottom of the ladder he placed the paintings still wrapped in a blanket onto the floor.
“What is the meaning of this, Bailey? What are you doing pointing a gun at us?”
“I need to ask you, Wil, what are you doing with stolen art work?” Bailey asked.
“Stolen? Frank asked me to take care of them. Emma has just jogged my memory of them. He placed them in my care years ago and never mentioned them to me again.” As Bailey slowly walked closer, Wil asked, “
Who are they stolen from? Or do you think that we stole them?”
Emma was relieved to hear the sound of a buggy stopping outside the haus. Emma glanced at Bailey’s startled face. Surely he couldn’t shoot everyone. Emma lowered her hands.
“Bailey, what are you doing?”
Emma knew that the booming voice belonged to Elsa-May. Behind Elsa-May she saw Ettie and Maureen.
Bailey addressed Elsa-May. “I just found that these two are in possession of stolen paintings.”
“Nonsense.” Elsa-May pushed the gun in his hand down.
Emma quickly told Elsa-May, “Wil remembered that Frank had given him the paintings to look after. How did you know to come here?”
“We were coming to visit you when we saw your buggy here at Wil’s place.” Elsa-May ignored Bailey and walked right past him. “Did you say paintings? Well, let’s unwrap them and take a look.”
Bailey put his hand agitatedly to his forehead. “Aunt Em, you can’t just walk into my investigation like this.”
Elsa-May swung around to Bailey. “Wil, Emma, meet my and Ettie’s nephew, Bailey Rivers. He’s a detective.”
Emma gasped and Wil said, “You’re Elsa-May and Ettie’s nephew?” Emma was relieved that he was not a thief or a murderer.
Bailey nodded. “Well, great nephew, really.”
“So you don’t want to join the Amish? Your name’s not Bailey Abler?” Wil asked.
“Sorry to do that to you, Wil. I’m Bailey Rivers. You’ve been very kind to me, showing me how everything works, the traditions and the customs.”
“This is such a shock.” Emma put her hands to her head.
“I think the person you should apologize to should be Silvie,” Wil said with deep furrows in his brow. “Does the bishop know of this deception?”
Bailey lowered his head. “The bishop knew from the start.”
Wil shook his head.
“I’m afraid I’m the one who organized things for Bailey to be here, Wil,” Elsa-May said, “Now, let’s have a look at these paintings.”
Elsa-May and Bailey carefully unwrapped the paintings while Wil and the others looked on.
There were three small paintings. “This one looks to be a Chagall, that one is by Otto Dix and I don’t know who that one was painted by, but it looks to be a 16th century painting.” Elsa-May rose to her feet. “You see, a lot of art went missing in World War Two from Germany.”
“How do you know all these things, Elsa-May?” Emma asked.
Elsa-May flung a hand in the air. “I studied art history in college.”
“You went to college?” Maureen asked.
Elsa-May smiled and nodded.
Emma’s head felt as though it was spinning with all the surprises. “So Frank was murdered for these paintings? They don’t look like they’re worth much at all,” Emma said.
“We could be looking at millions, Emma,” Elsa-May said.
Emma’s hand flew to her mouth. “Millions?”
“What have you found out, Aunt Em?” Bailey asked.
Emma knew she should be concentrating on the paintings, but all she could think of was how devastated Silvie would be.
“Well, you obviously knew about Frank’s father’s art dealings and you knew that he’d have these paintings hidden somewhere,” Elsa-May said.
“Yes, I’ve been on the trail of the paintings for a long time. Funny that they should bring me here to the same community where you are,” Bailey said.
“And the same community that Silvie’s in,” Emma said, hoping he would see that she was cranky with him for leading her dear friend up the garden path.
“If only you’d come a little earlier, you could have saved old Frank from being murdered,” Wil said.
“Do any of you have any idea who could have done it?” Bailey asked.
“Yes, that was my question,” Detective Crowley said as he walked through the door. He glanced at the three paintings on the floor. “So you’ve found the paintings, Rivers?”
“Yes, seems that the old man gave them to Wil to look after, and Wil’s only just remembered about it.”
The detective raised his eyebrows. “How convenient.”
“Look here, what are you implying?” Wil said with a raised voice.
“I can vouch for Wil and Emma, Detective. They’re just innocent bystanders in all this,” Elsa-May said. It appeared that Elsa-May had a fair amount of influence over the detective.
Was the detective also a relative of Elsa-May’s and Ettie’s? Emma wondered.
“Well, if neither of them did it, who killed Frank?” Crowley asked.
“I don’t know, but I will have to take these paintings and have them verified. I’ll call for a photographer first and have them catalogued before I move them.” He looked at Detective Crowley. “I should also probably have them dusted for prints.”
“Yes, if it’s not too late,” he said looking at Elsa-May and Wil.
“I was careful only to touch the corners of the frames,” Elsa-May said.
“I only touched them years ago,” Wil said.
Emma remained silent until the detective stared at her. “Oh, I haven’t touched them at all.”
“I’ll get the fingerprint team down here.” Detective Crowley walked out the door while pushing buttons on his cell phone.
“They promised me full co-operation,” Bailey said nodding his head to Crowley.
“What prints would you expect since the person looking for them at Frank’s haus didn’t find them? It wouldn’t have their prints on them,” Elsa-May said.
“I know; it’s just routine. We have to do things properly.” Bailey lowered his voice, “Especially with Crowley breathing down my neck. I can’t do anything unless it’s completely by the book.”
Chapter 11.
And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made.
And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made.
Genesis 2:2-3
“Detective, have you found anything out?” Elsa-May asked him when the detective came back inside the haus after speaking on his cell.
“It so happens that we have new information from the son, Andrew. He admitted to being there that morning. Andrew had fallen on hard times and thought his father had something of great value that he might be able to sell. His father denied having anything at all and a shouting match broke out.”
“Must have been these paintings that Frank was protecting,” Wil said.
The detective took a step forward. “Well, no one will get them since they’re stolen.”
“Not so fast.” Bailey held up each painting and took a good look at them. “I dare say that these aren’t any of the paintings I was chasing. Two of them are very similar. These might very well be the real deal.”
“What do you mean, the real deal?” Detective Crowley asked him.
“They might not be stolen.” Bailey carefully looked at the back of the paintings with gloved hands. “Just as I hoped. It appears something is stuck to the back of each painting; no doubt it would be the receipts and authentication. I think we will find that these aren’t stolen.”
“So the sons will come into an inheritance?” Maureen asked as if she was disappointed.
“Appears so,” Bailey said.
The sound of a car screeching to a halt made everyone’s heads turn toward Wil’s front door. Wil went outside the haus to greet Andrew, Frank’s son.
“Wil, I’ve just been to the bank and all the money was cleaned out of dad’s account, all of it.”
Wil jerked his head back. “Did they say when the money was taken out?”
“The day he died. The very day he died, all the money gone.” Andrew put a hand on Wil to steady himself and looked as though he was about to collapse.
“Detective Crowley is here. Come inside.” Wil helped Andrew into the haus.
>
Wil told Crowley what Andrew had just told him, while Andrew sat breathing heavily on the couch with his hand on his chest.
Detective Crowley sat opposite Andrew and scratched in his notebook. “Did anyone at the bank see if he was accompanied by anyone?”
Andrew shook his head. “They didn’t say.”
“Should be on their CCTV. I’ll check into it.”
Wil said, “Andrew, these are your daed’s paintings. He told me if anything should happen to him to give them to you and Clive. I’m sorry, but I only just remembered them.”
Andrew hurried over to the paintings and sank to his knees. “This must be what he told us about. Something of tremendous value for us boys.”
Bailey stepped forward. “You can’t touch them. We need to have them fingerprinted and authenticated to check that they aren’t stolen first. I’ll need to take them for a while.”
“My daed was a man of Gott. He would never steal,” Andrew said.
“I don’t mean to offend you. I’m Detective Bailey Rivers.”
“What’s going on here? Why would you think that they were stolen?” Andrew asked. When Wil told him about Bailey being on the trail of stolen paintings, Andrew asked Bailey, “How long will you have to take them for?”
“Three days, I’ve got someone coming in from Chicago. Hopefully, they’ll be here tomorrow so we can get this thing wrapped up. I’ve been chasing some stolen paintings, but I’m sure I’m on the wrong trail with these ones.”
“Do what you need to do. I’m confident that they’re not stolen,” Andrew said.
“Andrew, what’s keeping you?” Andrew’s girlfriend called out to him from the doorway. “I’m coming, Lacey, and I’ve got some good news.”
Emma noticed that Lacey had long blonde hair and today her long nails were pink, but the day Emma met her they were red. An alarm bell went off in Emma’s head, the long strand of hair, the red flake, which could’ve been a piece of red nail polish. Emma looked up at Elsa-May and by the look on her face Emma knew that she was thinking the same thing.
Hidden (Amish Romance Mystery) (Amish Secret Widows' Society Book 2) Page 7
