Hidden Amish Secrets

by Debby Giusti

  “It sounds as if the sheriff is spreading rumors.”

  “Not rumors, ma’am. He’s just telling the truth.”

  “The truth is, Deputy, someone has trespassed on my property a number of times, he’s attacked me and he’s broken into my home. The man—or men—need to be apprehended.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll tell the sheriff.”

  The deputy’s comments tore a hole in her heart, and a number of holes were there already. Her brother wasn’t a murderer, no matter what the sheriff claimed.

  “Don’t pay attention to the deputy,” William said once they were outside.

  “He was parroting his superior officer, which only confirms my earlier upset with Sheriff Taylor. In my opinion, it’s time for him to retire.”

  “He’s up for reelection this fall.” She saw the twinkle in William’s eyes. “If you’re still in town, you can campaign against him.”

  “That’s a good reason to stay in Mountain Loft,” she said with a smile.

  A tingle of heat crawled along her neck as he continued to hold her gaze. She wanted to spend more time with William, but he was Amish and she had left the faith. Any attraction between them needed to be quelled.

  “We’ll come back later, but let’s stop by the real-estate office,” she said, hoping to turn her focus back to the problem at hand. “I want to check up on Brad Abbott.”

  Gloria was sitting behind her desk when they entered. The immediate blush to the woman’s cheeks and the interest in her eyes as she gazed at William was hard to miss, and it told Julianne everything she had suspected.

  “Brad’s been in a meeting with the mayor all morning,” she told Julianne, although her attention remained focused on William.

  “Are you sure he wasn’t visiting an abandoned farmhouse near the old quarry?”

  “I’m sure. He stopped in here bright and early before he headed to the mayor’s office.”

  “Does the mayor meet with everyone in town?”

  Gloria pulled her gaze away from William long enough to nod at Julianne. “The mayor meets with a few business leaders, the president of the bank and the sheriff almost weekly to talk about the direction the town’s going in.”

  “What direction would that be?” Julie asked.

  Gloria offered her a quizzical stare. “The town expansion. It’s this year’s focus. People moving to town is good for business and brings needed revenue. A task force was convened a few months ago to encourage growth.”

  “Having more folks buying homes will be good for Brad’s real-estate business,” Julianne stated.

  The receptionist nodded. “And other businesses in town, as well.”

  “Brad’s coordinating with a developer from Atlanta?” Julianne threw out a line, like the fishermen at the lake, and wondered what she would catch.

  “McDonough Homes. Ted McDonough will be in town tomorrow.”

  “To look at possible home sites?” Julianne asked.

  “Brad must have talked to you about the project?”

  He hadn’t talked to her. In fact, he had led her to believe folks from Atlanta would not be interested in moving to Mountain Loft.

  “I’ll let Brad know you were here,” Gloria said as they turned to leave.

  Julianne was more convinced than ever that listing her property with Abbott Real Estate was a bad idea. She wanted her farm sold intact, instead of dividing the land into multiple home sites.

  “Let’s stop at Jones Grocery and pick up the items Aunt Mary requested,” Julianne said as they climbed into her car.

  The grocer was equally as welcoming as he had been on her first visit to his store. “How’s the sale of your property going?” Harvey asked as Julianne began to gather items into a shopping basket. “Brad Abbott said he was out there yesterday.”

  “He was, but I may list the property myself. Do you have any For Sale by Owner signs that I could post on my drive?”

  “At the end of the next aisle. I don’t want to talk out of turn, but I think you’re making a mistake, Julianne. Brad has connections.”

  In spite of Brad’s connections, she didn’t want her property turned into a subdivision of prefabricated homes. “He was in a meeting with the mayor when Will and I stopped by his office. Something about town expansion.”

  Harvey nodded. “That’s the mayor’s top priority. I have to admit, it won’t hurt my business, either.”

  “But do you want city folks streaming to town?”

  “Only if they’re good people who plan to keep Mountain Loft as it is today. You know my ancestors worked hard to maintain the town after the gold rush ended in Georgia.” He looked at the plaque on the wall with pride, as if recalling the history passed down through his family. “When the miners seeking their fortunes headed to California, my family’s written history that’s been passed down to me mentioned hard times and slow growth. Eventually the town became viable again. I don’t want to see it decline.”

  “Which is doubtful,” William said. “The mountains are always a draw and attract people from all over the state.”

  “Dahlonega has grown faster than the locals expected,” Julianne added. “The college brings in folks, and Atlanta continues to spread north with communities that butt up almost to Dahlonega. It’s only a matter of time until folks discover the beauty of Mountain Loft.”

  “You know about the dome of the main building on the Dahlonega campus is covered with gold from the Georgia mines,” Harvey said with pride. He took pleasure in the fact that his family had founded Mountain Loft and that his store had been in business since the 1800s.

  She nodded. “That’s part of the information I share with tourists who stop in the shop where I work. Georgia gold covers the dome of the state capitol, as well.”

  “Some folks believe there’s more gold in the hills, although it seems doubtful.” Harvey smiled. “We all know, the best gold is money earned from hard work and then banked or invested.”

  “Fool’s gold is just that,” William said. “The idea of striking it rich in the abandoned mines or panning in the creeks and streams is for fools, I fear.”

  Julianne appreciated the conversation and the opportunity to visit with Harvey Jones. Seeing him warmed her heart and brought good memories of better days to mind. “Tell Nancy hello,” she said after they purchased the groceries.

  As William loaded the bags into her car, Julianne noticed an Amish woman crossing the street and heading in their direction.

  Her heart lurched. “Emma?”

  Surprise wrapped around the other woman’s slender face. “Oh, Julianne, you are a sight to behold. I heard you had come home.”

  Emma smiled a greeting to William and then clutched Julie’s hand. “You’ve come home to live?”

  “To sell my farm. William and I ran in to your husband at the Country Kitchen the day after I arrived.”

  A pink blush spread over Emma’s cheeks. She was obviously pregnant and rested her hand on her rounded stomach. “Mose and I married three years ago.” She smiled apologetically. “I never thought I would marry after...”

  Tears filled her eyes. She glanced away.

  Julianne squeezed her hand. “Of course, you would find someone else. Bennie would have wanted you to be happy.”

  Although Emma looked anything but happy.

  William stood to the side, giving them a chance to talk privately, which Julianne appreciated.

  “Mose is a decent man,” Emma said as if defending her husband. Again her hand rubbed against her protruding abdomen.

  “When is the baby due?”

  “Two months from now.”

  Seeing Emma’s upset, Julianne wanted to draw her friend back to a topic that was current, and not what could have been if Bennie was still alive. “You’re living with Mose’s family?” Julie asked, even though she knew the a
nswer.

  “Until we can find a place of our own.” Emma’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “People talk, as you have probably heard. It still breaks my heart. Bennie loved you, Julianne, and he loved your father. What they say could not be true.”

  It broke Julianne’s heart, as well. “I was told a deputy who has since retired did not believe Bennie had killed Datt and then taken his own life.”

  “Of course, Bennie would not do this. We had planned...” Emma’s voice was thick with emotion. “You knew that we talked about marriage?”

  Julianne nodded.

  “Bennie was saving for our future. He wanted to buy land near your father so they could farm together and expand their property.”

  Emma glanced around as if fearing someone would overhear their conversation. Her face contorted. “I have to go.”

  Julianne caught her arm. “When can we talk?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. Mose and I were to visit relatives along with his parents. I’ll pretend I’m not feeling well and beg to stay home.”

  Emma glanced back once again and then hurried into the grocery store. Julianne followed her friend’s gaze. Mose Miller stood on the sidewalk near a buggy. His eyes narrowed, and his face twisted in an angry snarl.

  Julie’s heart pounded a warning.

  “Let’s go, William.” She climbed behind the wheel and pulled away from Jones Grocery.

  “What did Emma say?” William asked.

  “It’s what she didn’t say that her body language told me loud and clear.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Emma fears her husband.” Julianne thought of the man who had attacked her the night she came back to Mountain Loft and the man who had been in her father’s workshop. And again, the person who had broken into her house. With the way her pulse raced when she saw Mose and the fear she saw in Emma’s eyes, she wondered if Mose could be involved.

  Her brother never had liked Mose and thought he was out for his own good. Had Bennie met Mose that night, and was he the man who had killed her father and brother? Julianne needed to solve their deaths to be able to learn who was coming after her now. She didn’t have proof, but a gut feeling told her the two situations were tied together, and she feared they involved Mose Miller. If that was true, Emma could be in danger.

  If Mose was the killer, he had killed twice. If he killed twice, what would stop him from killing again?

  * * *

  Before leaving town, William and Julianne stopped at the sheriff’s office, but he was still with the mayor.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the meeting lasts all day,” the deputy admitted. “The sheriff said they had a lot to discuss.”

  Which William wished the deputy had mentioned earlier.

  “I’d like to know what the sheriff thinks of Mose Miller,” Julianne said as they drove toward William’s farm.

  “I saw Mose pass by your house the night after we saw him at the Country Kitchen.”

  “Was he in his buggy?” she asked.

  William nodded. “Headed for the lake.”

  “Did you tell the deputy sheriff?”

  “I was focused on your safety that night,” Will admitted. “And not on some Amish guy riding by your property.”

  “Yet he could have been the man with the bandana.”

  “That’s a possibility, but you need proof, Julie.”

  “I need to ask Emma where her husband was that night.”

  He held up his hand. “Just be careful of what you say. Emma loves Mose. If she thinks you’re out to cause problems, she might be hesitant to share information.”

  “You didn’t see the look on her face today.”

  “No, but if she fears her husband, she might be even more concerned about revealing anything that could incriminate him. Emma is a gut woman, and she loved your brother, but Mose is her husband.”

  Julianne sighed. “That’s what’s hard. To see her end up with a man she fears after what she had with Bennie. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  She glanced again at William. “Emma said she would be alone tomorrow afternoon. Mose and his family plan to visit relatives. She’ll make up an excuse to stay home. We could visit the sheriff after we see Emma.”

  Julianne hesitated for a moment. “That is if you’re interested in going to town again.”

  He would go with Julianne, but he was concerned about Emma. Mose would be irate if he found them talking to his wife.

  William kept worrying about both Emma’s and Julianne’s safety after they got home. Julianne helped her aunt in the kitchen for a few hours and then peered into the barn, where he was working.

  “I’m driving to my house to hang the For Sale by Owner sign on the fencing,” she called to him. “Aunt Mary said to be hungry tonight. She’s cooking a huge meal, as if there were ten of us.”

  He laughed, hearing the playfulness in Julianne’s voice. She had been so unsettled driving home and convinced Mose was involved in the attacks. Not that William thought Mose couldn’t have been involved, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt even if he was belligerent at times.

  His treatment of Emma was more of a concern. Perhaps William should talk to one of the church leaders. The bishop, or even the deacon, could visit Mose and encourage him, as Scripture said, with fraternal correction to improve his attitude toward his wife.

  Would it be enough to change his actions? William wasn’t sure, but something needed to be done to keep both Emma Miller and Julianne safe.

  TEN

  Using a black marker, Julianne wrote her cell phone number on the For Sale sign. She retrieved a hammer and nails from her father’s workshop and forced thoughts of a man wearing a bandana from her mind as she nailed the sign to her gate.

  The air was cool and clouds blocked the sun. She wore only a sweater as a wrap and wished she had dressed more warmly.

  Aunt Mary had left a few things behind last night due to their hurry to get to William’s house. Julianne retrieved some of the items from the guest room and packed them in a tote before the sound of a car on the drive caused her to peer through the window.

  A white sedan, clean and shining, as if it was brand-new, braked to a stop near the porch. Julianne ran downstairs.

  Remembering the white car that had chased after her the night of her arrival as well as the SUV earlier today, she opened the kitchen door and stood poised on the threshold, ready to retreat inside and bolt the door if the visitor seemed threatening.

  Her expression must have been less than welcoming as a tall man with dark, wavy hair and a well-trimmed beard stepped from the car and nodded a greeting. “Afternoon, ma’am. I hope I didn’t startle you.”

  She waited for him to provide more information.

  “I’m Ted McDonough, from Atlanta. I’m working with the mayor and some of the other good folks in Mountain Loft about a development I proposed to build. Brad Abbott mentioned your house and land was for sale.”

  “Aren’t you a bit early?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “You’ve talked to Brad. We’re meeting tomorrow. I decided to drive up today and see the town for myself. In my line of work—it’s good to know the area before I start talking money.”

  “What type of a development did you propose to the city?” Julianne knew the answer—a tract of homes. Julianne felt sure but she waited to hear what the developer would say.

  “A few mountain homes for some of the folks in Atlanta who are ready to get out of the stress of city life.”

  “This is an Amish home, Mr. McDonough.”

  He held up his hand. “Call me Ted, please.”

  “An Amish home, Ted, means no central air or heating. No electricity or phone connections. I doubt the house would meet the standards of the good folks you have in mind.” She accentuated the word good and then regretted he
r abrasive tone. For whatever reason, something about Ted stuck in her craw.

  “I understand that renovations would need to be made to the house.” He gazed at the surrounding farmland. “Brad said you’ve got sixty-five acres.”

  Mountain Loft’s premier—and only—real-estate agent liked to tell all, even though Julianne hadn’t agreed to work with him.

  A satisfied smile crossed Ted’s lips as he continued to peruse the land. “One-acre lots.” He nodded, as if doing the math.

  “Are you expecting an influx of people to the area, Ted?”

  “Once the ski slope is developed. Then the lodge.”

  “Is there enough snow for skiing?”

  “Artificial snow will augment anything Mother Nature doesn’t provide. It’s pricey, but people will pay.” Ted rubbed his hands together as if anticipating the influx of revenue from all the ventures he had planned.

  “Brad said Mountain Loft dates from the Georgia gold rush,” he continued. “That local history will be a draw. I envision setting up a few sluice boxes in town where kids can pan for gold, as well as a replica of an old mine shaft and a historical museum.”

  He nodded again, his smile broadening. “I see the potential.”

  “Surely, you have other land to buy.” She glanced at the Fulton County license plate that was as clean as his vehicle. “Did you happen to visit an abandoned farmhouse earlier this morning?”

  “I just arrived in town. Brad said there are a number of parcels of land, although yours is the first I’ve visited. I’ll talk to him tomorrow, and we’ll come back probably in the afternoon, if that works for you.”

  She thought of meeting with Emma. “I won’t be here until later in the day.”

  “Not a problem. Brad probably has a key to the house.”

  Not Brad, although someone did. “Why don’t you talk to Brad? He can call me.”

  “Your number’s on the sign.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “How long have you had the house on the market?” Before she could answer, he continued, “You’ve made a wise decision to go with Brad. He has connections.”