by Amy Lillard
Kappy shook her head. “I don’t know what to believe as truth and what she’s made up in her own mind.”
Edie put the car into reverse and backed out. “What do you mean?”
“Do you have any idea how old she is?”
Edie shrugged. “She was old when I was here.”
“Exactly. She barely can remember what day it is, much less—”
“Are you going to tell me what she said or not?”
“If I tell you, you can’t get your hopes up.”
“Of course not.”
Edie pulled onto the main street and headed back toward School Yard Road.
“You have to promise.”
Edie let out a sound that was half sigh, half growl. “I promise.”
“Martha said she saw a woman in red running across the fields around the time Ruth was murdered.”
Kappy was nearly flung into the windshield as Edie slammed on the brakes. “Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t know much about driving, but I don’t think you’re supposed to stop in the middle of the road.”
“Oh, right.” Edie set the car into motion once again. “This is exciting,” she said as she turned toward Ruth’s house.
“No, it’s not.”
“How can you say that? We have a red button and a woman in red. It all goes together.”
“And an eyewitness who can barely see three feet in front of her face.”
Edie waved a dismissive hand and turned down the drive. “Everybody knows the short vision goes first. And who can’t see red at a distance?”
“Someone who’s color-blind.”
Edie put the car in park and turned to face Kappy. “Is Martha color-blind?”
“I don’t know. I guess not.”
Edie gave a satisfied nod. “I rest my case.” She got out of the car and marched toward the front porch, not bothering to wait on Kappy.
“Don’t you want to go talk to Ephraim and Nathaniel?”
“Maybe later. Right now I want to write all this down before we forget.”
Kappy shook her head. Forgetting wasn’t the problem. If it was true or not—that was what they needed to know.
After a quick meal of sandwiches made from leftover funeral roast with applesauce on the side, Edie stood and stretched.
“I want to go to town and see Jimmy.”
“You don’t want to talk to the neighbors across the street?”
“Nope. I think Jimmy’s our best bet. I mean, he was in the barn. He would have had a better chance of seeing something than Ephraim and Nathaniel.”
Kappy stood and gathered up her plate and glass. “And here I thought you wanted to go visit him because you missed him.”
Edie pulled a face. “I do miss him. And I want him to know that we’re doing everything we can to get him out of there as soon as possible.”
They set their dishes in the sink.
“I still think you should let the police handle this,” Kappy said. She knew her words would fall on deaf ears, but she had to say them all the same. “It’s their job to find the killer.”
Edie shook her head, her bangs brushing from side to side. “They think they found the killer already. You just have to trust me on this. I know more about the Englisch world than you do.”
Kappy couldn’t argue with that. Not one bit.
“Come on,” Edie said. “Once we’re done with our visit, I’ll buy you an ice cream in town.”
* * *
In all the years she had lived in Blue Sky, Kappy couldn’t remember one trip to the jailhouse. And yet here she was.
The building itself was squat and brick. It held a weathered look like the rest of the buildings in the area. Most of them had gone up somewhere around the turn of the century—the twentieth century—and a hundred years of wind and rain had taken the sharp edges away.
“I’m here to see Jimmy Peachey,” Edie said to the brunette behind the desk.
“And you are?” she asked without looking up.
“Edith Peachey.”
The brunette jerked to attention, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. “Edie? Is that really you?”
“Yes.” Then the identity of the woman seemed to strike home. “Heather?”
The brunette nodded. “That’s me. How are you doing? How have you been?” She stood revealing a large baby belly under her close-fitting pink shirt.
Kappy briefly wondered if she was a police officer like Jack Jones and wore regular clothes and a badge or if she was merely an employee who answered the phones and let in visitors.
Heather shot a quick glance in Kappy’s direction. Her golden-brown eyes seemed to take in all of her appearance at once, and Kappy resisted the urge to make sure her prayer covering was on straight. Like Heather would know. Still, there was something a little unnerving in her perusal.
Heather turned her attention back to Edie, handing her a clipboard over the tall desk. “If you’ll just fill this out for me, I’ll get you back as soon as possible.”
Edie started to fill out the form, then gestured toward Kappy with the end of the pen. “Can you get Kappy one, too?”
Heather gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Visitation is just for family members. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Kappy went to sit in the short row of orange plastic chairs lined up against the far wall. There were only four of them, making her think that visitors were not exactly welcome in the lobby of the sheriff’s office.
Edie finished filling out the form, and before she had a chance to join Kappy she was escorted back to see her brother.
Kappy sighed. She should have just stayed at home. She could be making kapps right now instead of staring at the cheap paneled walls of the squatty little office.
The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than the door opened and Jack Jones strolled in. He looked about the same as he had every other time she’d seen him. Somehow he still managed to have stubble on his jaw even though it was barely one in the afternoon. His dark hair was mussed as usual, as if he simply rolled out of bed without a second thought of a comb.
He was talking to a woman no taller than Kappy, with honey-colored hair pulled back in a bob at the nape of her neck. She had a badge pinned to her belt much like Jones did, and there was no doubt this woman was a deputy.
Kappy was on her feet in a second. “Detective Jones. Jack Jones,” she called.
He stopped and turned to face her, his expression surprised. Because she had remembered his name? Or because she was there at all? She didn’t know.
“Miss King.” He nodded more to himself than to her, and she was certain because he was proud he had remembered her name in return.
He turned to leave once more, but Kappy stopped him with a hasty tug on his sleeve.
Jones looked down at her hand and back up into her eyes, his stare almost a warning. “Yes?”
Kappy let go of him as if his shirt were on fire. “Jimmy Peachey is innocent.”
“And you came all the way here to tell me that?”
She shook her head, then gave a little shiver as her kapp strings tickled the back of her neck. “I came with his sister, so she could visit. But I think you should know. He’s not capable of doing what you say he did.”
He turned back to the woman at his side.
“We can talk about this later,” she said. “Give me a call sometime this afternoon.” Then she turned on her heel and walked away.
Jones shifted his attention back to Kappy. “The evidence says otherwise.”
Kappy crossed her arms to show she meant business. “The evidence is wrong.”
“I appreciate your concern.”
But she knew it to be a lie. “I found a button in the barn,” she blurted out to keep him from walking away. This might be the only chance she got to talk to him and she wasn’t going to waste it. “It’s red,” she continued. “And the neighbor. . . The neighbor said she saw someone wearing red running across the field.”
“Was it the one-armed man?”
Kappy frowned at him in confusion.
“Sorry.” Jones shook his head. “That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t help me with the case.”
“Don’t you see?” Kappy asked. “This just shows you that your case against Jimmy is wrong. I think the lady in red is the murderer.”
For some reason Jack Jones seemed to find that amusing. His grin deepened, then he took one look at her face and adopted a more solemn expression. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Kappy had no idea what that meant. But it sounded like he was doing nothing.
“Thank you, Miss King.” And before she could protest further, Jack Jones walked away.
* * *
“I’m telling you, Kappy, it was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”
After Jones had left her standing in the lobby at the sheriff’s office, Kappy was suddenly filled with the need to prove Jimmy’s innocence. As much as she hated to admit it, Edie was right. The police thought they had their man and they weren’t going to search any further. But once Edie finished her visitation, there was nothing left to do but go home and take care of the dogs.
Kappy busted open a fresh hay bale and spread the straw around, while Edie used the yard broom to sweep it into the doghouses.
“But he seemed okay, right?” Kappy asked. “They’re not hurting him or anything, are they?”
“They seem to be treating him fine. And he told me as much. But it was so sad seeing him in an orange jumpsuit like a common criminal.” She shook her head.
“We’ve still got Ephraim and Nathaniel to talk to,” Kappy soothed. It wasn’t much in the way of an investigation, but it was more than Jack Jones was doing.
“I suppose. I mean, what do you think they could have seen—” Edie broke off as the sound of an engine approaching cut through their conversation. “Who do you suppose that is?”
Kappy could only hope it was Jack Jones coming to tell them that he had changed his mind. Even better, that he was bringing Jimmy back home.
But a strange car sat in the driveway.
A gray-haired man got out, looking around as if inspecting the place. He caught sight of them and turned his attention to them. “I’m looking for Ruth Peachey.”
Edie stepped in front of Kappy, saving her the trouble of answering. “She’s not here. Can I help you?”
The man nodded and took a folded piece of paper out of one pocket. He opened it and waved it toward them as if they could see what was written there. “I contacted her last week about some beagle pups.”
Kappy and Edie shared a look. This was one thing she hadn’t thought about. And she was certain Edie hadn’t, either.
“Beagle pups?” Edie said the words as if she’d never heard them before.
Kappy stepped around her. She approached the man, her hand out. “Can I see your paper?”
He frowned, obviously a bit confused, but handed her his notes. She scanned the writing, noting the small doodles in the margin. It seemed the man wanted four puppies, and other than an estimated price for each one, Kappy couldn’t make out much else. She folded the paper and handed it back to him. “Are you still wanting four of them?”
The man nodded. “If they’re still available.”
“Of course.” Kappy graced him with a smile, but it died quickly on her face as Edie grabbed her arm and jerked her backward. “Will you excuse us for a moment, please?” Edie’s expression had morphed into one of stiff politeness as she pulled Kappy back toward the barn. “What are you trying to do?”
Kappy pried Edie’s fingers from around her arm. “I’m trying to sell dogs.”
“You can’t sell that—”
“Why not? That’s what they’re here for, right?”
Edie pressed her lips together and gave a small sigh. “I guess so. Mamm was a dog breeder.” She stopped. “We don’t know what to charge him.”
Kappy nodded. “Jah, but I have his quote on the paper and Ruth kept ledgers in her office. Let me go see what I can find. You take him around back and show him the puppies.”
Edie cast a skeptical glance over one shoulder, back toward the man who stood in the driveway, car still running, confusion still branded across his brow. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we don’t know that man from Adam. How do we know he’s not going to come in and—” She stopped, obviously unwilling to continue with her train of thought.
One thing her parents’ and brothers’ untimely deaths had taught her: Anything could happen at any time. One minute they had been there and the next they were gone. Just like Ruth.
“You have to have faith, Edie.” Then the thought struck.
“What’s that?” Edie asked. “Why do you have a look on your face?”
“When the police were here, no one said anything about theft.”
“Because nothing was missing.” Edie’s words grew slower as her sentence drew to an end. “That means—”
“—the person who killed her was not a robber,” they both said at the same time.
They smiled at each other. Somehow it felt as if they were one step closer to solving the mystery and getting Jimmy out of jail. Whoever killed Ruth wasn’t there to steal from her, so what business did they have?
A not-so-discreet cough drew their attention back to the man in the driveway.
They turned to face him.
“The dogs?” he asked.
“Right,” Kappy said.
“My partner is going to check the records and double-check on which ones are ready to go. In the meantime, would you like to come look at the puppies?” Edie asked.
The man reached inside his car and cut the engine. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
While Edie showed the stranger the pens and how Ruth had cared for the dogs, Kappy pored over the ledgers. In the twenty minutes it took her to find Ruth’s records on which dogs were ready to go first, how to determine which dog was which, and the lineage of all the puppies on the property, Kappy also learned more about beagles than she ever thought she would know. And there was still a lot about Ruth’s business left to discover.
She used what little knowledge she’d gained to help the gentleman pick out his four puppies—all of which had been tattooed at the local vet to enable them to track the dog in case it ever got lost.
“A dog with a tattoo,” Edie said. “Who would’ve imagined?”
Kappy shrugged. “I guess it’s as good a way as any.” She actually thought it was pretty clever of whomever thought to tattoo a dog to keep a record. Especially when people pay as much for dogs as the man who had just left.
“Maybe I should get a tattoo,” Edie mused, pulling up her shirtsleeves and examining the skin on her upper arm.
Kappy drew back with a frown. “Why would you want to do that?”
Edie shrugged. “Why not?”
“I know you’ve heard this your entire life, but you do not need to mark yourself.”
Edie rubbed her arm thoughtfully. “But if I get one that’s unique. Maybe Ruth’s and Jimmy’s birthdays on a full-bloom rose?”
Kappy shook her head. It was really no business of hers. And yet... “You shouldn’t try so hard to fit in.”
“It’s hard,” Edie said. Her words were softly spoken and heartfelt. “You have no idea how hard it is out there. No one fits in. Everyone stands out. But you can’t fit in unless you stand out. Everyone thinks they’re special and it’s chaos.”
Kappy finished making the notation in the ledger as to which puppies the man had bought and how much he paid. “Then come back.” She set her pencil down and calmly met Edie’s gaze.
“Are you kidding?” Edie shook her head. “How can I come back here?” She made a sweeping gesture with one arm. “It’s just so . . . rural.”
Kappy shut the ledger then stood. “Jah, that’s what happens when you live next to farmers.”
/> “So what-all is in there?” Edie asked, pointing to the ledger still lying on the desk.
Kappy knew she was trying to change the subject and she allowed her new friend this much. But soon, and it wouldn’t be long, Edie would be on her own to determine her place in Blue Sky. That was, if she stayed.
“Everything you need to run the business, it seems.”
Edie gazed around at the numerous volumes surrounding them. “Like what?”
“Like breeding schedules, vaccination records, customers’ contact information, all that sort of thing.” She pointed at each set in turn. “Then there’s books on beagles themselves, Ruth’s notes, and a whole bunch of other stuff I haven’t even looked at yet.”
“Oh,” Edie said. But the word sounded small. “Jimmy can’t do this by himself, can he?”
“No,” Kappy said, though she wasn’t sure if Edie wanted an answer or not.
She watched the expressions cross Edie’s face, but Edie didn’t ask the one question that Kappy knew was weighing on both their minds. Once they got Jimmy out of jail—and they would get Jimmy out of jail—what was Edie going to do with him then?
But Kappy said nothing. It wasn’t her business, after all.
She closed the ledger and shelved it once more, then she stood and dusted off the front of her apron and dress. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll help you feed the dogs, then I’m going home.”
* * *
“What’s so interesting over there that you want to leave here?” Edie asked. She took another scoopful of the duck feed and spread it around. Kappy had lost count of the number of scoops she’d fed the birds so far, and hoped that ducks weren’t one of those animals that were prone to overeating. If they were, Edie and Jimmy were going to have the fattest ducks in Blue Sky.
“It’s not a matter of interesting,” Kappy replied. “It’s a matter of that’s where I belong.”
“It must be nice.”
Kappy pulled the blue plastic swimming pool closer to the water spigot, rinsed it out, and started refilling it once more. The ducks quacked their approval. “What do you mean?”
Edie sighed and started to spread another cup of food for the ducks.
“I think they’ve had enough now, Edie.”
“What? Oh.” She tossed the cup back into the container just inside the barn. “I mean, it must be nice to know where you belong.”
