Murder Simply Brewed

by Vannetta Chapman

  They huddled under the desk, and Jesse snagged the wheels of the chair and hauled it back into place, completely hiding them from view.

  Seconds later there was a flash of light, followed by an explosion and the sound of Patricia’s laughter.

  Thirty-Six

  Amber and Tate had intended to wait near the front door of the restaurant, where she’d told Cherry to meet them. But then Seth ran out of the building, face red, sweat staining his shirt, and pulling in big breaths. He explained that Hannah and Jesse had gone upstairs and that they might need “backup.”

  Amber wanted to laugh at the Englisch lingo coming from Seth, but this wasn’t a funny situation. It bothered her that the Amish teens working for her found themselves involved with a crazy lady like Patricia. Their innocence was important to her, and she felt as if she’d let them down.

  There was no time to beat herself up about it now.

  Tate told Seth he had to stay outside to wait for Officer Brookstone.

  Amber added, “Repeat everything you told us. Warn her that we’re upstairs and that Hannah and Jesse are too.”

  Seth nodded once, and Tate and Amber hurried inside and down the empty corridor. They had tiptoed halfway up the stairs when they heard the sound of an explosion.

  Their eyes met for a moment. Amber’s heart felt lodged in her throat, and then they both began running to the top of the stairs, no longer trying to mask the sound of their approach.

  As she rounded the corner of Elizabeth’s desk, Amber hesitated. She could make out a body on the floor of her office, and Patricia reaching her hand into the wall safe. It was all too much. She stormed into the room.

  “You blew it open?” Amber stopped once she was inside her office. She was so angry and her pulse was racing so fast that she was actually seeing Patricia through a red haze. “Are you crazy?”

  Something flashed in Patricia’s eyes, something dark and sinister. Recovering quickly, she smiled and explained, “I wouldn’t have needed the explosive if you’d given me the correct combination.”

  Tate had knelt at Larry’s side and was checking his pulse. “Larry seems okay, but he’s unconscious and has a huge lump on the back of his head.”

  “What did you do to Larry?”

  “Poor Larry didn’t really have the heart to pull this off. He was wavering, and I can’t stand wavering.” She tweaked her hair, an impulsive gesture that she couldn’t resist though her voice sounded completely calm. “Larry wasn’t careful enough. Working late at night can be dangerous.”

  “So he’s in on this with you? He’s your accomplice in this foolish scheme?” Amber was no longer afraid, now that Charlie the boa constrictor wasn’t on the scene. She was furious, and she saw no need to hide it.

  “Larry?” Patricia flicked a hand toward the still body on the floor. “Not a good partner, if you know what I mean. I had to cut him loose.”

  “Looks like you beaned him with a flashlight.”

  “You see it your way. I see it mine.” Patricia stretched her arms over her head, as if the entire evening had put a kink in her back. Shaking off the fatigue, she returned her attention to the safe.

  “Step away, Patricia.” Amber felt bold and confident. Tate was standing beside her now, and she knew Patricia was no match for the two of them.

  “Or what?” Patricia swung around to face them. When Amber saw what was in her hand, her stomach lurched.

  “Scared of guns too? You are a fussy little thing.” Patricia’s eyes flicked up and toward Tate. “I brought this with me as a backup plan. In case Charlie failed me. I wish you could have seen her with Charlie. I thought she was going to faint dead away before he had a chance to have any fun at all. I would have liked to have that on video, but I had to scoot.”

  “As you can see, we found a way around your snake.” Tate kept his voice calm, soft almost.

  Amber wondered how he was able to control his emotions. She wanted to stomp across the room and slap this woman who had caused such havoc in her life.

  When Tate stepped toward Patricia, she raised the small handgun and thumbed off the safety.

  “I wouldn’t.” Her voice remained pleasant. “My brother made sure I had a firearm and knew how to use it. He wanted me to be able to protect myself. Remember, ‘Iron breaks . . .’ ”

  “Is that what you were talking about? Guns are made of steel, not iron.” Amber thought her head was going to burst wide open.

  How did you reason with someone who wasn’t anchored in reality?

  A small voice told her to tread carefully. After all, this crazy woman had a gun pointed at her, a presumably loaded gun. But the last few days had taken their strain, and her patience had reached a breaking point.

  “This gun is quite deadly, my dear Amber. You need to remember that iron—”

  “ ‘Iron breaks and smashes everything.’ Yes, I remember your first message on the Pumpkinvine Trail.”

  “Excellent! I admire folks with a good memory.” Patricia actually smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret. That’s one of my favorite verses.”

  “Because it talks about iron? You think it gives you permission to carry that gun and—”

  “It speaks of breaking and smashing!” Patricia’s face contorted in anger. “I will break and smash you and this Village. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not this time. Certainly not with this small amount of money you hid.”

  She rattled the money bag she’d removed from the safe. “Feels like a pitiful amount.”

  “It’s tomorrow’s deposit, Patricia. Nothing more.”

  “Certainly not worth going to jail over.” Tate maintained his distance and kept his voice free of emotion. “Put the money and the gun down. You can walk away.”

  Patricia’s laughter broke out in stark contrast to her anger seconds before. “I like your spunk! Are you two—oh, I guess you are a couple. I can tell by the way he wants to protect you, Amber. Too bad.”

  She directed her next words to Tate, wriggling her eyebrows as she spoke. “I think you’re kind of cute, and you’d make a better partner than Larry ever did.”

  Tate shook his head. “No thanks.”

  “Not interested? Well, too bad.” She kicked a duffel bag across the floor toward him. “ ‘A rock was cut out, but not by human hands. I suppose this is all predestined, or something.”

  “Stop quoting Daniel!” Amber’s adrenaline had been pumping for too long. She suddenly felt exhausted. “Daniel loved God. Who do you love? Yourself. That’s all—not even your brother.”

  Patricia looked as if she might argue, but then she shrugged and said, “I loved Ethan. I’m going to miss him, but I needed him out of my way so that I could retrieve what you owe me. He never understood that you stole what was ours. Now get out the plastic ties, cutie-pie.”

  Tate glanced once at Amber, mouthed, Humor her, and bent to unzip the bag.

  “It would have been easier if you’d allowed Charlie to nibble on you.” Patricia stared at her with a what-can-I-do-with-you look. “Charlie has never killed anyone! No, you had to be difficult. Turn one of those chairs around so you are facing me and have a seat. Your man-friend is going to fasten your hands behind your back. I don’t have all night. Sit!”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you have not obeyed the Lord our God or kept the laws he gave us.”

  Amber had to fight the desire to stomp her foot. “Patricia, God’s Word is not a weapon. It doesn’t justify what you’re doing.”

  “How could you possibly understand?” Patricia pulled back the hammer of the gun. “I’m in a hurry, and you two have already taken more of my time than I had to give. My little diversion next door isn’t going to last forever.”

  She made encouraging remarks as Tate bound Amber’s hands behind her.

  “One last chance, cutie-pie. Come with me?”

  Tate again shook his head. Patricia shrugged her shoulders, then sighed as if she was terribly disappointed.

  “All right
. Now, obviously I can’t tie you up while I hold this gun, and I can’t put the gun down because you’re not trustworthy.”

  “Sounds as if you have a problem.” Tate set his feet as if he were preparing to charge her.

  “Do you think so? I could always shoot you.”

  Amber stared at her, unbelieving, as Patricia gripped the gun in both hands and pointed it at Tate. From the corner of her eye, Amber saw a shadow in the outer office. She prayed someone would come, someone who could help them. She prayed for God’s deliverance.

  And then, like the deluge of a storm that had been building for hours, everything happened at once.

  The shadow flew across the room, aiming for Patricia.

  Amber rocked her chair to the left and crashed to the floor.

  Patricia pulled the trigger as Gordon tackled her from behind.

  And Tate fell to the right, blood splattering from his arm.

  Tate felt the bullet graze his right shoulder. Amazing how a person didn’t forget certain things. Even though it had been over thirty years since he’d served in the military, and been shot in a training accident, he instantly remembered the searing heat, the surprise, and the pain.

  He also realized that his arm would be stiffening up. He needed to help Amber while he was still able.

  He forced himself into a sitting position and noticed the room had filled up with people.

  An Amish couple had rushed in after Gordon. The girl was Hannah. And the young man with her? Must be Jesse who Amber had spoken about.

  “Are you all right?” They both rushed to where Amber lay and helped to right her chair.

  Gordon was busy handcuffing Patricia. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Yes.” Amber’s answer was shaky.

  Tate nodded as he stood and clamped a hand over his shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

  Hannah and Jesse murmured their replies, though they both looked like a pair of deer caught in the headlights of Tate’s truck.

  Patricia was spouting nonsense about her constitutional right to steal what was hers.

  Larry had nothing to say since he was still unconscious.

  Gordon gave the group a quick once-over, assured Tate he’d have a medic up quickly, and ushered Patricia out of the office.

  It took Tate three strides to reach the drawer of Amber’s desk. Opening it, he wasn’t at all surprised to see that everything was lined up and neatly placed within partitions. The scissors were to the left.

  He cut the bind holding her wrists behind her back, the bind he had placed, and cupped her face in his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You’re bleeding.” The young man rushed back out to Elizabeth’s desk and returned with a quilted coffee coaster. “Elizabeth won’t mind. She can buy another in the shop. Go ahead. Use it.”

  Tate thanked him and pressed the cotton against his arm.

  “I’m Jesse, by the way. And this is—”

  “Hannah. I know. Nice to meet you, Jesse.”

  They could hear Gordon reading the Miranda Rights to Patricia. He must have called downstairs first because a fireman and medic entered the room.

  “There’s no fire here,” Amber said to the fireman.

  “Still have to check it out, miss. Anytime there’s an explosion we have to follow procedures.”

  The medic moved toward Tate, but he waved him away. “See to Larry first. He’s been out for several minutes.”

  Amber was up and rifling through her lower desk drawer. She produced a first aid kit and told him to sit. “She shot you. I can’t believe she actually shot you.”

  Tate saw the look of amusement exchanged between Hannah and Jesse.

  “Is she always bossy like this?”

  “Maybe a little.” Hannah laughed when Amber paused to send her a look of disbelief.

  Amber shook her head at the ribbing. She focused instead on finding a roll of gauze in the first aid kit and began wrapping it around Tate’s arm, leaving the pressure bandage—the coffee coaster—in place.

  He appreciated her effort but figured it was needless. The medic would see him next, and either bandage him up there or send him on to the hospital. Tate sensed, though, that Amber needed to be doing something, and she seemed calmer as she tended to his wound. When Patricia’s gun had gone off, the fear in Amber’s eyes had nearly torn his heart in two. If it calmed her to wrap his arm with gauze, he’d gladly sit still and allow her to do so.

  “Is it necessary to put the gauze all the way to his elbow?” Hannah asked.

  “He resembles one of your Englisch mummies at Halloween,” Jesse chimed in. “I believe he’s safe from bleeding any more—ever.”

  “I thought we were a team,” Amber said, standing back to study her attempt at first aid.

  “Ya, we are a team. That’s why Jesse and I were here to begin with.” Hannah explained about the things they’d found in the old shoe box—the picture of Ethan and his two sisters and the letter from his dad. She described how it had led them to Amber’s office.

  “So you were hiding under the desk? We never even saw you.” Tate stood and slipped an arm—his good arm—around Amber.

  “We did see—and hear—you.” Jesse stepped to the left so he could watch the medic who continued to work on Larry. “Is he going to be okay?”

  The medic never paused to look at them, though he did glance at Gordon, who was walking into the room.

  The two spoke for a moment as Gordon asked basic questions about Larry’s condition and then phoned his status in to the police station. Finally he turned his attention to them.

  “Why are you here?” Amber asked. “I thought you were fishing. I kept leaving you messages—”

  “And I started back when I heard the first one. I reached the office as your call came in about needing animal control.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe the mess she’d made. “It looks like Larry will be fine, though when he wakes up, he’s going to have a gigantic headache.”

  “And a new place to live. He is going to jail. Right?” Amber tapped her finger against her bottom lip. “I still can’t believe he betrayed me. He swore to my face that he had no major issues with Ethan, and all this time he was working with Patricia to kill him.”

  “I’m sure he thought he had good reasons. Most criminals do, and many are able to fool the people they’re closest to—including family and coworkers.” Gordon checked his phone and then slipped it back into his shirt pocket. “Once the hospital releases him, he’ll be at our jail until his transfer to county, where he will probably await his trial. Any idea how involved he was? Do you know if he was in this from the beginning?”

  Amber shook her head, and Tate could sense the energy draining from her. She’d been through a lot in one night. A tremor started down his right arm as he realized how close he’d come to losing her.

  Gordon was still focused on Larry. “I imagine he’ll be eager to talk when he learns we have Patricia Gray under arrest.”

  “How did you know where to find us?” Tate asked.

  “A young man downstairs told me that you were all in the office area—”

  “That would be Seth,” Hannah murmured.

  “And then these two showed up.” Gordon pointed at Hannah and Jesse. “They came flying down the stairs, claiming Patricia had a gun and was going to use it.”

  “Thank you, Gordon.” Amber stumbled over her words, then pushed forward. “I doubted you. Thought . . . I’m not sure what I thought. Things have been strained between us, and maybe that’s my fault. Tate assured me you were a good cop, and I should have trusted his word—trusted you.”

  “Apology accepted.” Gordon touched her shoulder, then shook hands with Tate. “But you should be thanking these two. They thought logically and quickly while in a dangerous situation.”

  “As soon as we saw the gun, we knew we couldn’t keep hiding under the desk and waiting for help to arrive. We knew we had to do something.” Hannah
blushed when Jesse stepped closer and slipped his hand over hers.

  “Plus it was cramped under there.” Jesse stepped back when Hannah took a swipe at him.

  Tate realized he was looking at young love, though they didn’t seem to know it yet. He remembered being that age and having feelings he didn’t understand. It was an exciting time, but also a difficult one. Looking at Amber, he realized he liked his current age a lot better—this time around he understood his feelings and how important it was to cherish them. Young love was good, at least for a time. But what he saw in Amber’s eyes? He wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

  Thirty-Seven

  A week later, Hannah worked out in the afternoon sunshine, helping her mother in the garden. Eunice was using the hoe to break the sod around the rows of vegetables they had planted—vegetables that were flourishing in the Indiana spring. Hannah followed behind her, pulling up weeds and dropping them in the pail her little sister, Mattie, carried. Every once in a while, Mattie would plop down in the dirt and upend the pail.

  Which might have irritated Hannah a week ago, but it didn’t any longer. Instead she was grateful to have the day to spend with her family, to still be alive so she might see her sister grow, and for simple things like working in a garden.

  What if Patricia had killed someone with that gun?

  What if she had turned the gun on Jesse and Hannah as they hid under Elizabeth’s desk? An image of Jesse’s smiling face passed through her mind. If he had been hurt, or worse, killed, would she have been able to accept it as Gotte’s wille? The thought of what they had been through together caused sweat to slip down Hannah’s back, though the afternoon wasn’t all that warm.

  All of those incidents from last week had changed her.

  Now when she awoke in the morning, she found herself appreciating the blessing of life, even when her day off included weeding the vegetable garden.

  So she laughed with Mattie and then squatted beside her to help put the weeds back into the pail.