“Another Amish proverb?” Tony asked. “I’m learning you all have a proverb for nearly every situation.”
“Indeed we do, but actually I was quoting Isaiah. I’d like to go, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Riding in a car probably isn’t going to make it any worse,” Emma conceded. “I wish I could go, but I promised to walk with Mary before dinner. I think...it seems she wants to share something.”
“It’s decided then.” Henry stroked his beard. “Tony, Agatha, and I will meet with young Joey while you minister to Mary.”
They spoke little on the drive over. It seemed that each person was lost in their own thoughts, trying to put together the puzzle of Nathan’s death. Henry and Emma would be returning home on Monday, and the sun was setting on a beautiful November Friday afternoon. Henry didn’t actually know if he could help solve the murder, but if he could he would have to do so in the next two days.
The afternoon seemed filled and brimming over with color.
The deep blue of the sky.
The brown fields—fallow and ready for winter.
The sparkling river, a light blue that turned darker, then changed to silver as it tumbled south.
The few trees that weren’t live oak or cedar sported spots of orange and red and brown leaves.
Henry had never picked up color pencils. He’d never felt the need to use his gift in that way, but now he did. Looking out at a nearly pristine fall afternoon, as the sun slanted toward the western horizon and splashed across the landscape, he wanted to draw the beauty that he saw before him—and he wanted to do so in color.
The clerk at the information desk gave them the number to Joey’s room. There wasn’t an officer waiting outside. Tony knocked once, waited for Joey to say come in, and all three filed into the room.
He didn’t look surprised to see them.
If Henry read his expression right, he actually looked relieved.
“I was hoping you all might come by.” His gaze took in the entire group, but settled on Agatha. “I want to apologize to you, Agatha. I lied about who I was, about my ability to pay for my room...pretty much about everything.”
“No harm done as far as the room, Joey.” Agatha smiled brightly at him and motioned toward the visitor’s chair. Joey nodded, so she sat and explained, “My inn wasn’t full this week, so it isn’t as if you took the place of a paying guest. I only wish that you’d told us why you were here and who you were.”
Joey nodded as if that made sense, but he didn’t respond to what she’d said. Instead he looked at Henry. “You’re the one who saved me.”
“My name is Henry Lapp. I was there after you were shot, yes. My fraa—that is, my wife, Emma, and Agatha’s helper Gina were there as well.”
“If you hadn’t found me in Agatha’s barn, I could have died. The doctor told me that. He said I should thank whoever had provided first aid and slowed the bleeding.” He swiped at his eyes, embarrassed by the tears coursing down his cheeks.
He was so young, had so much to learn, and had apparently already struggled mightily in his life. Henry felt great sympathy for him. At least the young man’s heart was still tender. Didn’t the Apostle Paul encourage them to be kind to one another and tender hearted? There was still hope for young Joey, in spite of the situation he currently found himself in.
“I’m happy that we were all there to help in your time of need.”
Joey pulled in a deep breath, then turned his attention to Tony. “I don’t know you. Do I?”
“I’m Tony Vargas, Agatha’s neighbor.”
“I saw you paddle across with Agatha and Henry. When you found the body, your reaction seemed different from theirs. They were surprised and frightened. You were...alert.”
“Perhaps because I’m a retired detective.” Tony hesitated, then pushed on. “You were in the woods...hiding?”
“I guess.”
“Do you want to tell us what happened?”
“I already told all that to the police. They took my statement, then left. Do you think they’re going to charge me with something?”
“I think if they were, they already would have. Or they’d at least have stationed an officer outside the door to make sure you didn’t try to cut and run.”
“So I’m free...to leave?”
“Well, there is that IV in your arm, and you were shot earlier today. You might want to wait until the doctor releases you.”
Joey let out a tremendous sigh, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re right. I know you are. Plus, I’m tired of running.”
“Why are you even here, Joey?” Agatha tapped her fingertips against her purse. “Why did you use a different name when you checked into my B&B? And what were you doing in the woods?”
Henry thought he might not answer. Joey stared out the window, though the sun had set and darkness was falling. Perhaps it was in that darkness that he saw his answer, because he looked at each of them in turn and said, “I’ll answer all your questions, but I think you’ll want to pull in some more chairs first.”
Tony and Henry snagged two chairs from adjacent rooms that were empty. It seemed to be a rather slow night at the hospital. No other visitors padded down the hall. A few televisions could be heard playing at a low volume, and the nurses went about their business in their soft-soled shoes.
Once they were all settled, Joey said, “I don’t know where to start.”
“Start with Nathan. He was a friend of mine.” Agatha cocked her head, then added, “I just came from his funeral. How did you know him?”
“I didn’t. Not really. I think I need to start before that. I live in Dallas, and I’m not Joey Troyer. My name is Joey Smith.”
“We know.” Agatha beamed at him. “Tony was able to see a copy of your driver’s license.”
“How did you do that?”
Tony picked up the narrative. “Henry drew your license plate.”
“He drew it?”
“Rather a long story,” Henry said.
“I’m afraid you’re going to tire so let’s skip that part for now.” Tony’s voice had taken on a business-like tone. “The point is that Agatha and Gina saw your truck, Henry provided the tag number, and I still have friends at the police department.”
“Okay. Well, my mom left a long time ago, when I was just a kid. I was living with my dad, but he died in July—July fourth, actually.”
Agatha reached forward and patted his hand, and Henry felt even more sympathetic toward the boy. He was, after all, an orphan.
“I’m not telling you that to excuse what I did, but just so you’ll understand how I ended up here. After dad passed, all his problems became mine. We had an electric bill going back several months, so they turned the power off. He didn’t have any insurance to speak of, but he had the old truck you saw me driving and also a cattle trailer.”
“A cattle trailer?” That detail surprised Henry for some reason. “You weren’t pulling one when I saw you drive by Agatha’s.”
“I parked it outside of town, out behind that old service station that’s closed down. I hope it’s still there.”
“How did you end up with a cattle trailer?” Tony wasn’t quite interrogating Joey, but Henry could tell that he was mentally taking notes.
“Years ago my grandpa had cattle, and my dad would go out and help him move the cows. Grandpa died, the cattle were sold, but my dad never managed to get around to selling the trailer.”
“You wanted to sell your trailer to Nathan?” Agatha looked as perplexed as Henry felt. “How did you even know about him?”
Surely there was someone in a city the size of Dallas who would want to purchase a cattle trailer. Henry and Emma’s bus had stopped in Dallas on the way down to Hunt. It was a good five-hour drive from Dallas to the Hill Country.
“See, that’s where I thought it was providence or God or something. I don’t know. That seems silly now, but one night I came home from my job...I was working at the gym near my house.
Cleaning floors and stuff like that. Didn’t make enough to pay the bills my dad left, but I could eat and pay our rent and that was working okay until the electricity was cut off. Anyway. I came home late one night and there’s this news story on the local channel about a guy using goats to clean up the parks.”
“It’s better than using chemicals.” Agatha’s expression turned solemn. “At least Nathan thought so.”
“Then at the end of the news piece they mention Nathan King cleaning up the banks of the Guadalupe. I see this Amish guy, and I figured maybe he would hire me to move his goats from one place to another. After all...”
“You have a cattle trailer.” Tony had been watching Joey closely, but it was the first time he’d interrupted him.
“Right. I knew Amish guys didn’t use trucks or cars or they could get shot.”
“Shot?” Henry shook his head. “You lost me.”
“You know. Amish mafia. You guys have a mafia and if someone misbehaves, you...”
“Nein. We don’t.” Agatha crossed her arms and looked ready to take on the producers of the once-popular television show. Everyone had heard of it. Even Henry had heard of it, and he knew very little about Englisch television.
“Oh.”
Joey reached for the cup of water on his tray table and drank it all. Agatha jumped up to refill the cup.
“I guess I shouldn’t believe everything I see on TV. My dad used to always tell me that.”
“Your dad sounds like a wise man,” Henry offered.
“In some ways. Maybe. But there were all those bills...”
Tony glanced at the clock on the wall then back at Joey. “So you came down to talk to Nathan?”
“Exactly, but I thought...again, I got this from the show which was probably wrong... I thought I needed to be Amish. I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t even consider my plan unless I showed up...you know.” He pointed to his badly cut hair. “I cut my hair with a bowl over my head, and then I found the clothes at a Goodwill near me. That was easy enough as you all don’t exactly dress in a stylish fashion. No offense.”
“None taken,” Henry murmured.
Agatha had sat back and was again entranced with Joey’s story, as was Henry.
“I booked a room at Agatha’s, thinking she could vouch for me.”
“I didn’t even know you.”
“Sure, but you seemed nice, and your website said you welcome all kinds of people—Amish or not. You even have a good Yahoo rating.”
Instead of looking pleased, Agatha sighed. “I don’t know what that is.”
Tony again steered the conversation back on course. “You cut your hair, donned some suspenders, checked in with Agatha under the name Troyer...”
“And then you went in search of Nathan,” Agatha said.
“Right. To ask him if I could work with him, if I could move his goats with my trailer. I kind of envisioned, like a partnership.”
“Nathan had an arrangement with one of the local farmers.” Agatha smiled to soften the blow of her words.
“That makes sense. I guess I was hoping I could interest him by doing it for less money. So I parked down the road from where I saw his goats—on the other side of the river—and then I walked back. Only someone beat me there. I don’t know who it was. I don’t even know if it was a man or woman. Literally, as soon as I rounded the corner I heard the crack of a gun being fired. Believe me, I know what that sounds like. My part of Dallas isn’t so good. So I ran, and I hid.”
“And you saw us paddle across.”
“Yeah. I knew when you called 9-1-1 that the police would be there in no time, so I hightailed it out of there.”
“Why did you stick around? Why were you sleeping in my barn?”
Joey had been quite forthcoming, in Henry’s opinion. He hadn’t seemed to hold anything back, but now he stared at the blanket on his bed, rubbing his fingers back and forth over it. When he finally spoke his voice was quieter, almost—almost embarrassed.
“I don’t really know. I watched you, how you were with your guests, and I thought that you had a really nice place. I guess maybe I was trying to work up my nerve to see if you needed help around the place.” Now he looked up and locked gazes with Agatha. “I’m real good at cleaning things.”
“I have Gina for that.” Agatha’s voice was a whisper.
“Yeah. That makes sense. The thing is that I don’t mind doing the gritty work, and honestly the thought of going back to Dallas to that gym that stank of sweat and urine and my apartment that didn’t have electricity...well, it made me kind of nauseous to even think about it.”
Tony leaned forward, elbows braced on knees. In two days, Henry had seen that expression and body language before. It indicated that Tony was ready to drill down to the crux of the matter.
“Why would someone shoot you?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. I didn’t see Nathan’s killer, but maybe they saw me. That’s all I could figure.”
“You should have gone to the police,” Agatha said.
“Sure. Yeah. I guess you’re right.” But Joey didn’t sound convinced.
“Is there anything else you can tell us, Joey?” Henry tried for his most amiable tone—just two guys talking. “Anything at all about the morning Nathan was shot? No detail is too small.”
“Honestly, no. Except, well, this might sound a little crazy. I was walking up right when Nathan was about to be shot. Bad luck on my part. Even worse luck on his part.” He shook his head as if his bad timing was due to his own stupidity. “I couldn’t see the person he was talking to, but I could see Nathan and he looked...well, he looked surprised.”
“Surprised?” Agatha, Henry, and Tony said the word at the same time.
“Yeah. Not scared, you know. Just...surprised.”
A nurse tapped on the door, then stuck his head in the room. “Visiting hours are over. You all are welcome to come back tomorrow.”
As they were standing to go, Tony turned back to Joey. “What kind of shoes were you wearing?”
“Today? Boots. They’re old but at least they’ve held together. My tennis shoes fell apart. I tried gluing them but...”
“Can I look at your shoes, Joey?” Tony’s gaze and his tone were dead serious.
“Sure. I guess. They put all my stuff in that cabinet.”
As Tony walked across the room, Henry stepped closer to Agatha. He thought that Joey had been honest with them, but then he’d been tricked into feeling sympathetic for a killer before. He closed his eyes and prayed that this time wasn’t like that.
Tony opened the cabinet, picked up the boot, and looked at the sole. Then he pulled out his cell phone and tapped on it until he was looking at a photo he’d taken of the drawing Henry had made.
He replaced the shoe to the cabinet and shut the door. “Okay, Joey. Thank you for talking with us.”
Henry and Agatha said a quick goodbye before hurrying to catch up with Tony.
“Was it a match?”
“Did he do it?”
“No. It wasn’t a match, and I don’t think he did it.”
Agatha let out the breath that she’d been holding, and Henry did the same.
“Don’t look so relieved.” They all stepped onto the elevator, and Tony pushed the button for the ground floor. “If Joey isn’t the one who murdered Nathan, then the killer’s still out there.”
“And feeling cornered,” Agatha added.
But Henry wasn’t thinking about the killer anymore. He wasn’t even thinking that helping in the murder investigation was the reason God had brought him to Agatha’s pretty B&B along the Guadalupe River. Or maybe it was that God could have brought him to this place at this time for more than one reason.
As they travelled back to the B&B, Henry’s thoughts remained on the lost boy in the hospital bed, struggling to become a man and having no idea how to do that.
Chapter Fourteen
They arrived back at the B&B in time to catch the Wrights le
aving.
“Aren’t you even going to stay the night?” Agatha wasn’t sure why, but people reserving rooms and leaving before they fully used them felt like an insult.
“We’d love to stay, Agatha.” Linus was grinning as he nodded toward the kitchen. “I was getting lots of great recipes from Gina, and you know I’m a foodie.”
“What’s a foodie?”
“Someone who loves food, of course.” Gina stood in the doorway between the kitchen and sitting room. “In Linus’s case, the term refers to someone who enjoys cooking.”
“Guilty.”
“I know you aren’t going to leave before trying Agatha’s apple strudel with a cup of coffee.”
Linus looked at Patsy who shrugged.
“Deal.”
They all trooped into the kitchen, and five minutes later they were seated around the table with steaming cups of coffee and fresh strudel topped with small scoops of ice cream. Comfort food was just what Agatha needed. She’d been feeling very unsettled since leaving the hospital. She’d made the strudel the week before and frozen it in their gas-powered freezer. Gina had defrosted it, baked it at a nice low setting that didn’t dry the pastry out, then broiled it for a moment, causing the icing to brown to a light crisp.
The coffee was decaffeinated, but rich.
The strudel and ice cream were sublime.
She should have felt better, calmer even...but she didn’t. “How much can you tell us about what happened?”
“Ask away...” Patsy motioned with her fork. “If I can’t say, I’ll let you know.”
How was it that the woman always looked flawless? Her hair appeared casually styled, yet perfect. Her make-up, something Agatha had never worn, highlighted her cheekbones and softened her complexion without being over-done.
“You’re with DEA.” Tony said it as a statement.
“Yup. I’m active. Linus is technically retired, but he worked freelance on this one. As you might guess, we met on the job.”
“You were here because of an undercover op?”
“Correct.”
“How long have you been following the Thompsons?”
“We’ve been building the case for over a year.”
Dead Broke Page 13
