My aunt wore a size five shoe and I wore a nine. That would never work. “I plan to tomorrow,” I said.
She returned to the kitchen with Oliver at her heels. “Put on those rainbow slippers of yours and come to the table. I have dinner ready.”
Oliver woofed at the mention of food.
“I have some stew for you, too,” my aunt promised him.
He gave her his widest grin. If it weren’t for the rogue chickens, I thought Oliver would happily live with my aunt forever.
I hurried up the narrow stairway to the guest room to retrieve a fresh pair of socks and my fuzzy rainbow slippers. I chuckled to myself as I put them on. I bet Aunt Eleanor was the only Amish woman in the county with such extravagant footwear in her home.
Back in the kitchen, I insisted she sit while I set the table and ladled stew into stoneware bowls. I put a small serving in Oliver’s food dish as well.
Aunt Eleanor slathered butter and Amish peanut butter spread, which is a delicious mixture of peanut butter, marshmallow, and corn syrup, onto a flaky biscuit. My mouth watered. I loved my aunt’s peanut butter spread, but it was definitely not on my diet. Ludvik would have fainted just from the smell of it. My aunt nudged the jar in my direction. “You’ve had a long day, it seems. You need something sweet.”
I shouldn’t. In my mind’s eye, I saw Ludvik grunting with disdain. Ludvik grunted with disdain at anything that tasted good. I dipped the tip of my teaspoon into the jar. Just a taste won’t hurt. “Mmm,” I groaned.
Aunt Eleanor laughed. “Feel better?”
No, actually I felt worse because now that I had a taste of the peanut butter spread, I wanted the entire eight-ounce jar. I scooted the jar across the table in her direction with the spoon. I didn’t trust letting my hands touch the jar.
She chuckled. “Did you have any luck with Evelyn’s quilt? Did Lily take it?”
The quilt. I had left it in the car. “She didn’t take it,” I said. “It’s in the car. I can go get it for you.”
“Nee. Eat your supper first.”
I hid a smile. She sounded so much like the motherly aunt I remembered from my childhood.
“Did Lily tell you anything at all about Eric’s death?”
I swallowed a bite of stew. “She did. Anna and I spoke to her and Violet. Then, I talked to Cooper Mueller—make that Judge Cooper Mueller—on my own.” I related all the conversations that I’d had that day. “There was something definitely suspicious happening with those boys around the time of Eric’s death. Cooper didn’t want to talk about it. I haven’t spoken directly to Ira yet about it.”
“Maybe it’s too painful for Cooper to speak of. He did lose a gut friend.”
I tapped the side of the peanut butter jar with my spoon. “That’s possible, or it could just be they don’t want to talk to me about it. It must be strange to have a woman from Texas asking about the death of their friend fifteen years after the fact. I wish I could start over, especially with Lily.”
“You do need boots, don’t you?” She spooned the rest of her stew into Oliver’s bowl.
I frowned at the change of subject and how much she’d eaten. She’d barely taken three tiny bites. “Yes. Is there a Target or something close by?”
“I have a better place for you to buy them.”
“Where?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Eby Amish Mercantile.”
“Ahh,” I said, understanding. “And maybe talk to Lily again while I’m shopping?”
She smiled and pushed her dish away. “And maybe I should come with you.”
• • •
I hoped to talk Aunt Eleanor out of coming with me to Eby Amish Mercantile for boot shopping. Her doctor had specifically said that she should stay at home during the cold weather. But it was a losing argument from the start. Aunt Eleanor had made up her mind before she even suggested the idea.
When my aunt, Oliver, and I entered the general store the next morning, Ira was nowhere in sight. I didn’t know yet what I was going to say to him about seeing him outside of the Millersburg courthouse. A teenaged Amish girl behind the sales counter tucked a glossy magazine behind it. “Gude Mairye, Mrs. Lapp, can I help you find anything special today?”
“Nee, Kate. I’m here to find some proper boots for my niece Angie here. I know where they are. Don’t trouble yourself.” She slipped into the nearest aisle. The smell of leather and rubber wafted over me. Aunt Eleanor’s cane made a steady thump-thump on the ground as we progressed to the boot section. I winced as I walked down the wide aisle of particularly ugly boots. In Dallas, I bought my shoes at Bloomingdales and Saks. There wasn’t anything remotely like that in Holmes County. “This is about function, not form,” I told myself, and it was only for my stay in Holmes County. If I brought any of those boots back to Dallas, my mother would disown me.
My aunt pointed to a work boot with a reinforce heel and steel toe. The boots were black and laced halfway up the calf. The Amish answer to combat boots?
“That should be sturdy enough,” my aunt said.
Sturdy, yes. Ugly, double yes. I was certain I had never put something that hideous on my feet. My rainbow slippers notwithstanding; they were ugly in the cute way. These boots were traditionally ugly. The dreadful footwear made me miss my beloved cowboy boots, which I had left at home because I didn’t want the leather to get water stained in the snow.
“They aren’t that bad,” Aunt Eleanor said.
“Who said they were bad?” I asked.
She chuckled. “It’s written all over you face. Now, buck up and try them on.”
I removed the boots from the shelf and sat on a footstool a few feet away.
“Eleanor, I haven’t seen you in weeks. How are you?” A timid voice asked just as I was unlacing the right boot. I peered up from my feet to find Lily Eby in the aisle.
Aunt Eleanor smiled at her. “I am well, Lily. We are shopping for a sturdy pair of boots for Angie. Have you met my niece before?”
I ducked my head to hide my surprised expression. Aunt Eleanor knew that Lily and I met yesterday. Why would she ask Lily that question?
“We’ve met,” Lily said, not sounding too thrilled at our acquaintance. Her eyes fell to Oliver, who sniffed the boots on the lowest shelf.
“Is it okay that I brought him inside?” I asked. “It’s so cold out and I hate to leave him in the car.”
Oliver got up and sniffed her hand.
“It’s all right,” she said. “He seems very well behaved.”
Had a chicken walked by, she wouldn’t think that.
“Thank you.” I smiled at her. “We’re looking for boots because I didn’t bring any with me from Texas. After falling in the ice and snow yesterday, I realized I really need them.”
“We don’t have the selection that you will find in one of the English stores. They have more variety.”
“It was my idea to bring Angie here,” my aunt said. “In weather like this, a gut pair of Amish boots is what she needs.”
She nodded to the pair at my feet. “Did you like those?”
I held up the black lace-up boots. “These are . . .” I searched for the right word. “Functional.”
She barked a laugh and clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, but you should see the expression on your face. You’re horrified.”
Aunt Eleanor grinned. “Angie’s face is always a giveaway.” The two Amish shared a smirk at my expense.
I broke into a grin too. “Maybe I’m a little frightened.”
Lily pulled a folding chair into the aisle. “Eleanor, you shouldn’t stand so long while Angie shops. Sit here.”
My aunt thanked her. “Now, finish trying those boots on, Angie. They won’t bite.”
Sure, they won’t.
Lily folded her arms. “Stop.”
“Why?” Was I doing something wrong? Was there an Amish way to tie a boot? There seemed to be an Amish way for everything else.
“You need socks, too.” She disappe
ared down around a display of bonnets. A second later she returned, holding a pair of thick navy socks. She handed them to me. “Put these on.”
I removed my pink socks and tucked them into my purse. When I pulled the first sock on I wiggled with delight. “They’re so warm.”
Aunt Eleanor held her cane like a queen held her scepter. “See, Angie, sometimes function is better than looks.”
“Sometimes,” I admitted.
Lily laughed. “My mother-in-law knits them. She promises they are the warmest socks in the county. They’re one of our bestsellers in the store, especially this time of year.”
“I can see why,” I said as I pulled on the second sock and slipped my right foot into the boot. I cocked my head. The boot didn’t look that bad on, and at least it was warm. Warmth was my number one priority at the moment. Well, that, and trying to find out if Evelyn was right and her son’s death really was murder. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I hope Anna and I didn’t upset you.”
Behind Lily, my aunt gave an encouraging nod.
Lily frowned. “They are difficult memories for me.” She blushed. “And talking about Cooper makes me uncomfortable. I have a different life now than I would have had I married him. Ira doesn’t like to be reminded that I almost married his friend.”
“Are they still friends?” Aunt Eleanor asked.
Lily’s blush deepened. “Nee. Too much has happened.”
But Art said that Ira visited Cooper often at the courthouse. He had no reason to lie, at least no reason that I knew of. Lily certainly seemed to be telling the truth as she knew it. Could Ira be keeping his meetings with Cooper Mueller from his wife?
“But they were friends when you were younger,” Aunt Eleanor said.
Lily frowned. “They were.”
I finished lacing up the second boot and stood. “I saw Ira in Millersburg yesterday.”
She frowned. “He goes there often for business.”
“It was near the courthouse.”
“Most of the businesses are near the courthouse. It is the center of town.”
“It’s also near the judge’s office.”
She gave me a blank stare.
“And Cooper Mueller is a Holmes County judge. Are you sure that the two men are no longer friends?”
She rearranged several pairs of boots on the shelf. “They may be friendly in a business sense, but not as close as when we were young. Cooper is an Englischer now. It could never be the same as it once was.”
“What kind of business?”
“I don’t know, but I do not know all of my husband’s business dealings. That is not my place.”
Before I could spout off into a feminist speech, my aunt said, “What about the business Eric and Cooper were going to open before Eric died?”
Lily’s forehead wrinkled.
“The bike shop,” I said.
“Bike shop?” Her voice was distant. “I haven’t thought about that in years. I don’t remember much about it. I know they wanted to open it.”
“Violet said they argued about it,” I said.
“You’ve spoken to my sister,” Lily said.
I nodded.
“Is all of this because Evelyn wanted to give me one of her quilts?” Lily asked.
“More than once,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell Anna and me that Evelyn tried to bring you the quilt a second time?”
Her mouth fell open. “How did you know?”
“Kenneth told us.”
She pursed her lips. “I did not want to think of it. My husband had been so angry when Evelyn was here. He asked her to leave. It is not a pleasant memory. Ira wants us to forget that time. He always tells me to forget that time. It’s too painful. Evelyn wanted me to have the quilt as a constant reminder. I could not take it. It upset me but upset my husband more. Evelyn should have understood that.”
“She was a grieving mother,” I said quietly.
Lily scowled at me. “You are not from the community. You should not meddle in something you cannot possibly understand.”
My aunt struggled to her feet. “I’ve asked Angie to honor Evelyn’s memory by fulfilling her final request, which was to find out what happened to her son.”
Lily swallowed. “I’ve helped you as much as I can. I already told Angie what I knew yesterday.”
I walked in place, testing how the boots felt. “Violet said that Cooper and Eric argued not long before Eric died. Do you have any guesses as to what that was about?”
“If my sister knows about the argument, ask her.”
I didn’t tell her I already had. “Did you ever hear them argue about the bike shop, or anything else?”
“No.” Her answer was clipped.
“Maybe Ira will remember,” Aunt Eleanor mused.
Lily folded her hands in front of her chest. I don’t know if the hand folding was in prayer or in plea or in both. “Please don’t talk to my husband about Cooper or about Eric. It will upset him. When Eric died, it was a very painful time in all of our lives and not one of us wants to relive it. I know Evelyn missed her son terribly. I can’t imagine the pain she went through, especially because he was her only child, but she is gone now, too. Can’t we just let them all rest in peace?”
“We will leave you be now, Lily,” my aunt said.
Leave her be? But we hadn’t learned anything new.
“Angie.” My aunt turned to me. “You should walk in them a bit, up and down the aisle to see how they feel when you move.”
I hid my smile. She sounded so much like my father when he would take me back-to-school shoe shopping. I always had to take my shoes for a “spin” in the store before he would buy them. I preferred to back-to-school shop with my father because he let me choose what I wanted. Had it been up to my mother, my entire wardrobe growing up would have been one giant sequined, rosebud, bowed pageant nightmare.
“What do you think?” Lily asked.
The boots were surprisingly comfortable. I could wear them all the time if they didn’t have the potential to lead to Dallas fashion suicide.
Aunt Eleanor patted Oliver’s head. “They look nice on you.”
Lily nodded. “They are a popular boot and more importantly, they are warm. I have a pair on the farm and use them for chores.” She smiled. “I haven’t fallen in them yet.”
Not falling was a plus. I sat back on the footstool. “How much do I owe you for the boots?”
“Do not tell her, Lily. Put them on my tally.”
“Aunt Eleanor, you can’t pay for these.”
“Who says? You are my niece and I can give you a gift if I so choose.”
I sighed. “Can you at least let me pay you for the socks? I’m not letting you pay for those.”
My aunt nodded. “All right, I will accept money for the socks.”
Opting to keep my new boots on, Aunt Eleanor and I followed Lily to the cash register.
“You’re back already?” Ira asked with a smile. He turned to Eleanor. “It’s gut to see you out, Eleanor.”
“Thank you, Ira.”
“They were just about to leave.” Lily flushed. “Angie was shopping for boots.”
I held up my right foot as proof.
“Great choice,” Ira said.
“I was surprised to see you by the courthouse in Millersburg yesterday afternoon,” I said.
He frowned and his expression became hooded. “Surprising? Why?”
“I’d just seen you here at the store that day.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I have business in Millersburg.”
“Business with Judge Mueller?” I asked. “Were you meeting with him?”
He folded his arms. “If you’ve found what you needed, maybe it’s time for you to leave.”
I opened my mouth but clamped it shut when I saw Lily’s pleading look. “Thanks for your help, Lily. These boots will keep my feet toasty warm.”
“You’re welcome.” She seemed to want to say something else, but her husban
d’s scowl put an end to that.
Chapter Nine
The boots may have been ugly, but they gave me sure feet and confidence, which was the boost I needed to make our next stop at the Dudek Bike Company. The battery of my phone was almost dead. My aunt’s house was without electricity, so there was nowhere to plug it in overnight. I had brought a car charger with me and pulled it from my oversized purse. As I plugged it in the car, I asked Aunt Eleanor, “Do you miss being English, being able to pick up the phone and call someone whenever you wanted to?”
She smiled. “You will remember that I left English life long before cell phones were invented.”
“You know what I mean.”
She smiled. “I do. After all this time, I don’t miss it.” She arched an eyebrow at me. “Do you like being constantly available every waking moment?”
I couldn’t imagine living without my cell phone or electricity.
My cell rang. My mother’s smiling face popped up on the screen. Okay, maybe being constantly available wasn’t always a good thing. My fingers hovered over the screen. Should I answer?
Aunt Eleanor grinned. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
I sighed. “Okay, but if this turns into a three hour conversation, I’m blaming you.”
Oliver barked in the backseat, as if celebrating that he didn’t get the blame for once.
I tapped the phone. “Hello, Mom.”
“Hello, Mom? That’s how you are going to greet me? I receive one cryptic text message telling me that you are there and nothing else? You could be lying dead in the middle of some cow paddy for all I know.”
Leave it to my mother to conjure such a lovely image. A smile crossed Aunt Eleanor’s face. She could hear every word my mother said.
I blew out a breath. “Mom, I told you when I left I wouldn’t be calling or texting all that much. I have to conserve the battery on my phone. Aunt Eleanor doesn’t have electricity, remember?”
“Don’t remind me. My sister is living out in the country all by herself, sicker than a dog, and with no phone to call for help. How is she?”
Aunt Eleanor’s smile dropped into a scowl.
Plainly Murder (Amish Shop Quilt Mysteries .5) Page 6
