Hidden Amish Secrets

by Debby Giusti

  Ike sat back and shared stories about the mountain men who had caused problems over the years. His tales were spiced with humor that made Julianne laugh.

  “I’ve talked too long,” Ike finally said, although his eyes twinkled and a smile covered his wide face.

  “Thank you for the information about that night,” Julianne said as she rose from the chair.

  “Anytime. You know where to find me.” He shook William’s hand. “I’ve delayed your trip back to town with my stories.”

  “Not a problem. It’s been good to see you again, sir.”

  “Safe trip to both of you.”

  The sun hung low in the sky, and Julianne worried about the encroaching darkness. She was tired when they got on the road, but her mind was working overtime. “If Bennie didn’t kill my dad, then who did?”

  “Probably the guy with the illegal business deal.”

  She nodded. “Which means we have to find the evidence that Bennie tried to hide. That way, we’ll know who killed him. My datt probably heard Bennie and the man arguing. When he came downstairs, the guy shot him.”

  “Then he killed Bennie and staged his body to look like he had taken his own life. He could’ve gone outside and discharged a couple rounds with Bennie’s gun so law enforcement could tell it had been fired. Then he wiped it clean and wrapped Bennie’s hand around the weapon. You and I were still at the lake, Julie, so we didn’t hear the gunfire, and my father was a sound sleeper.”

  “I keep wondering why the murderer didn’t kill me?”

  “Maybe because he knew Bennie wouldn’t have killed you. You never saw him, Julianne, so he thought he could escape without notice.”

  “Except his car passed Rachel while she was hiding in the woods.”

  “If that was the killer, then we know he drives a white car.”

  “Which seems to be popular in Mountain Loft. But that was five years ago. He could have sold it by now.”

  The road narrowed even more, and the outer edge disappeared over the steep drop-off. Julianne stopped talking to devote all of her attention to the road.

  “You’re doing a gut job,” William assured her.

  “Did I tell you that I don’t like heights?”

  “You could pull off the road and let me drive if you’d feel better.” He glanced out the side window. “Although I don’t know where you’d pull over.”

  “Just as long as a car doesn’t approach us from the other way. Even worse would be a large van or a truck as narrow as this road is.”

  Rain started to fall, which made a bad situation even worse. She flicked on the windshield wipers and headlights and leaned closer to the window in order to see through the fat drops that increased in intensity.

  “Not much longer,” William assured her. “We’re almost at the bottom of this steep section of the mountain.”

  William’s voice was calming, but she didn’t feel his optimism. Her mouth was dry, and her ears roared over the now-pounding rain.

  She kept her foot on the brake and hoped the tires would continue to grip the road as the pouring rain washed across the pavement.

  Julianne tapped the brake and felt the wheels skid. Her pulse raced. She turned into the skid, ever so slightly. If she overcorrected too much, they’d be hurled off the side of the mountain.

  A curve appeared ahead. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. She inched around the bend, anticipating an approaching vehicle, and let out a sigh of relief when she saw no one was heading up the mountain.

  A loud rumble sounded overhead.

  William glanced up through the front window and gasped.

  “Hit the brakes. Now!”

  She pushed on the brake pedal. The back wheels skidded, and the car fishtailed toward the edge. Her heart lodged in her throat. She clutched the wheel and turned into the skid.

  Gravel rained down on her car. The roar grew louder and closer. She pumped the brake and held her breath as a giant boulder bounced across the road, clipped the hood of her car and plunged over the cliff.

  The jolt to the car caused her head to slam against the seat, but she kept her grip on the steering wheel and her foot on the brake. “Please, Gott!”

  The car turned sideways and started to skid down the steep incline. She turned the wheel and gasped with relief when they angled back onto the roadway.

  “Keep it steady,” William cautioned. “You’re doing fine.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. Don’t think about the rock. We’re almost to the plateau. Just a little farther.”

  Warning lights flashed on the dashboard. “The engine temperature is rising. What should I do?”

  “Pull over to the side of the road as soon as you can.”

  “But where?”

  “We’ll get to the plateau in a minute or so.”

  Not soon enough.

  She glanced at her rearview mirror. Headlights appeared behind them.

  “Someone’s approaching.”

  “Turn on your hazard lights so the driver sees you.”

  She hit the button on her dash, and the lights blinked.

  The car was getting closer. “Why doesn’t he slow down?”

  William glanced back. “He’s got to see us.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to stop.”

  The car was on her tail, then drew closer and tapped her rear bumper. Her car jerked forward.

  The car accelerated and hit the rear bumper again.

  Julianne’s hands ached, but she continued to hold the wheel. The gauges flashed. They wouldn’t make it down the mountain alive.

  “We’re almost to the plateau,” Will said.

  But the guy would run them off the road before they got there. The road widened, and a clearing appeared on the right. A car sat parked in the small turnaround area. Julianne gasped with relief when she recognized the sheriff’s car.

  Sheriff Taylor rolled down his window when she pulled up next to him. “You folks got a problem?”

  “Go after that car.” Julianne pointed to the white vehicle that raced past the clearing. “The driver tried to run us off the road.”

  The sheriff grabbed his radio and called Dispatch. “Tell O’Reilly to follow a midsize SUV, color white, heading into town on the mountain road. Have him pull the driver over and call me.”

  As the sheriff continued to issue orders to his dispatcher, Julianne turned to William. All the tension that had built up during their ride down the mountain swelled up within her.

  “I thought...” She gasped for air. “I thought we’d go off the road and over the cliff.”

  He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. She closed her eyes and listened to the pounding of his heart, drawing strength from him.

  “You did it, Julianne. You drove us down the mountain.”

  “How...?” She pulled back ever so slightly. “How did the boulder break free?”

  “Rockslides happen, but I think someone pushed that particular rock free.”

  “And then the same person tried to run us off the road.”

  “Either way, he wanted you to lose control of the car.”

  “And if that had happened,” Julianne said, “we would have been hurled over the side of the mountain.”

  “Don’t think of what could have happened,” William offered.

  But that’s all Julianne could think about, knowing that the man wouldn’t give up until she was dead.

  * * *

  A tow truck from Smithy’s Garage hauled Julianne’s car to town. The mechanic on duty quickly assessed the problem and met them outside on the garage driveway.

  “I’ll need a couple days to work on your car,” he explained. “The boulder cracked the radiator. Water spewed out and the temperature rose. Your engine would have burned up if you had driven m
uch farther. Good thing you pulled over at the clearing.”

  “Good thing the sheriff was parked there,” William told Julianne when the mechanic returned to his work. “Or no telling what the driver would have done. The sheriff said it was an SUV, but the car passed too quickly for him to identify the make or model.”

  Deputy O’Reilly pulled to a stop in front of the garage, rolled down his patrol car window and called to them. “I heard what happened. Sounds like a close call.”

  “At least we made it off the mountain alive,” Will said.

  “Did you apprehend the driver of the SUV?” Julianne asked.

  “I checked out the lake and found Mose Miller.”

  Evidently the deputy hadn’t heard her question about the SUV.

  She and Will stepped closer to the roadway. “Was Mose fishing?”

  “Hardly. He was minding a still.”

  “Moonshine?” Will asked.

  “He mentioned working for Seth Reynolds.”

  “Ralph’s brother?”

  “That’s right. He got out of jail not long ago and seems to have gone into a lot of business endeavors, none of them legal. Rumor has it he runs a still near one of the mountain creeks, although I’ve never been able to find it. Seems he branched out with a second still near the lake that Mose manages at night.”

  “Ike suspected the uncle was making moonshine,” Will revealed. “Sounds like a family operation.”

  “An operation that included a new hire. Namely Mose Miller, although considering the way I found him today, he might be drinking most of the profits. He’s sleeping it off in jail tonight. The sheriff will interrogate him tomorrow.”

  “Let us know if he confesses to attacking me,” Julianne said.

  “I’m sure he’ll have a lot to share tomorrow. His hands and arms were scratched. He claims he fell into a blackberry bush, but the cuts look like fingernail gashes to me. Also, he delivers his hooch to customers using Seth’s SUV, which was parked near the still. We’ll hold him for as long as we can and see what he has to reveal. Justice can move slowly in a small town. Knowing the way Sheriff Taylor operates, Mose could be off the streets for quite a few days.”

  “I’m relieved,” William said. Although if Seth’s SUV was the car that tried to drive them off the mountain road, how had Mose maneuvered the vehicle down the treacherous road if he had been drinking?

  “Did you follow the SUV to the still?” William asked.

  The deputy looked confused.

  “The sheriff called the dispatcher,” William explained. “He wanted you to apprehend the driver who tried to run us off the mountain road.”

  “I never got the message. Reception is bad at the lake. I was dealing with Mose at the time.”

  “Did the sheriff know where you were?”

  “Of course.”

  But he had led William and Julianne to believe O’Reilly would chase down the driver of the white SUV.

  “You folks need a ride home?” O’Reilly asked.

  “I already called the Amish taxi. It’ll be here in about five minutes.”

  “Sorry about the car,” O’Reilly said. “But I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  William was relieved they were both alive, but he was concerned about the sheriff and whether he could be trusted. Or was he keeping secrets like so many people seemed to be doing in Mountain Loft?

  SEVENTEEN

  Aunt Mary met William and Julianne at the door when they returned to his house and listened as they shared what had happened.

  “Ack,” the older woman lamented. “You both could have been killed by the boulder—then to have someone try to run you off the road. Remember that Anna Jones died in an automobile crash on the mountain. It can happen even when we are careful.”

  “I’m grateful William told me to brake,” Julianne said.

  “And I’m glad you responded so quickly,” he added. “A second or two longer, and things could have turned out differently.”

  Aunt Mary patted her chest. “Do not mention what could have happened. We must focus on the fact you weren’t hurt. It is because of Gott’s mercy.” She glanced at Julianne. “The Lord spared you for a reason.”

  From the tightness of her brow, Julie appeared unsure about who had saved her. She sat at the table and looked exhausted. William sat across from Julianne and explained to her aunt what Ike Vaughn had told them.

  After pouring coffee, Aunt Mary brought the filled cups to the table. “I’m glad the former deputy believes Bennie is innocent of wrongdoing.”

  “I am, as well,” Julianne agreed. “But that means the killer is still on the loose, and if so, he’s probably the man with the bandana.” She sighed. “I don’t know why he wants me dead.”

  “Perhaps he thinks you know something, dear.”

  “Or does he fear you will uncover the missing evidence that Bennie gathered before his death?” William mused.

  Julianne sipped the coffee. “Which leads me to believe the evidence must be at my house.”

  “Tomorrow we will search again,” Aunt Mary suggested. “But now I must tell you what I learned when the mailman delivered the mail today. We chatted for a few minutes, and he shared the news.”

  “From the look on your face, Aunt Mary, the news must not be good.”

  “Another tragedy. This time it is a friend of your father’s, Julianne. He was crossing a stream behind his farm. The water was high due to the storms. Somehow, he slipped off the small bridge and hit his head when he was thrown into the water. His body was found farther downstream.”

  “A friend of Datt’s?”

  “Deacon Abraham Schwartz.”

  Julianne gasped. “We were with him this afternoon. He has a wife and children.”

  “Five children.” Aunt Mary nodded. “The youngest is four years old. The funeral is day after tomorrow. I will go.” She glanced at William. “You will go with me?”

  “For certain.”

  “I’ll join you,” Julianne said. “He was Datt’s friend. I need to be there. Deacon Schwartz may have turned his back on me, but I will not turn my back on his family.”

  * * *

  Julianne found the black Amish dress she had worn to her father’s and brother’s burials packed away in a chest at her house, as well as a blue dress and another black dress that would fit her aunt. The morning of the funeral, William—also dressed in black—helped them climb into the buggy.

  The air was somber as they traveled toward the Schwartz farm. The morning chill and the rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the pavement brought back memories that weighed heavily on Julianne’s heart. Along the way, they were joined by other Amish buggies, and she recognized many people she had known in her youth.

  As William guided his mare onto the Schwartz property, her chest constricted. Clutching her hands together on her lap, she wondered if she had made a mistake in coming to bid farewell to the deceased deacon.

  The mourners were subdued as they left their buggies and headed to the barn. A few people averted their gazes when Julianne stepped into the area cleared for the occasion. Unwilling to dwell on their rejection, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. Non-Amish were allowed to attend funerals. Not even the bishop would call her to task.

  Wooden benches were arranged on either side of the pine coffin. The men sat together, across from the women. The bishop and two other ministers took their places in front of the men. The bishop talked of the creation story with emphasis on the teaching that man had been created from dust and would return to dust at the end of life.

  Aunt Mary, her eyes lowered in prayer, sat ramrod straight on the bench next to Julianne. Turning her gaze from her aunt, she glanced at William. His cheeks were ruddy, and his eyes crystal-blue as he stared back at her. A warmth curled around her neck. His lips turned up ever so slightly in
to the merest hint of a smile, before he glanced back at the bishop standing near the coffin.

  Julia looked down, fearing her own cheeks were flushed from the intensity of William’s gaze. If anyone saw her reaction to his perusal, they would think her more interested in William than in her prayers.

  Not that she cared what others thought, although in reality, she did care. She cared that they thought Bennie was a murderer. She cared that they thought she had turned fancy and wasn’t deserving of their attention. She cared that she no longer had a community that would reach out and embrace her.

  For seventeen years, she had accepted the precepts of the Amish way of life, but all that had changed, seemingly in the blink of an eye. Had she been wrong to leave her faith?

  The bishop’s words, spoken in the Pennsylvania Dutch language she knew so well, brought back memories of when her mamm and datt were alive, when she and Bennie were growing up and their family had been filled with love. Now, she was the only one left, except for Aunt Mary. How had everything changed so completely?

  Feeling William’s gaze, she glanced up to find him staring at her again. His eyes were filled with understanding, as if he could read the questions running through her mind. His earlier hint of a smile had been replaced with an expression that made her heart lurch and her pulse race.

  Amish and Englisch didn’t mix, her voice of reason warned, no matter how much she cared for William. The only way they could have a future together would be if she embraced the Amish faith, which, at the present time, she couldn’t do.

  Surrounded by the rituals that had given meaning to everything in her childhood and youth, she was overcome with sorrow and kept her eyes downcast for the remainder of the service. After its conclusion, the pallbearers carried the coffin to the buggy that would transport Deacon Schwartz’s remains to his grave site. Julianne leaned against William for support as Aunt Mary settled into the rear seat of his buggy. He helped Julie into the front, and she sat next to him, sensing his unease. Was he struggling, just as she was, with issues of faith?

  William flicked the reins and guided his mare into the line of buggies that traveled along the country road. The rhythmic cadence of the horses’ hooves was like the drumbeat of a funeral dirge, and was accompanied by the creaking of the wheels and the lament of the wind that rustled through the branches of the trees.