Lethal Licorice

by Amanda Flower

  I ran to the corner to catch up with the woman and stumbled to a stop. Apple Street was a quiet residential street in Harvest. Most of the homes were English. However, a few were Amish. The easiest way to distinguish between the two was to check whether or not power lines went to the house or if there were plain clothes hanging outside to dry on the line. The Amish line-dried their clothes, even in October.

  I looked up and down the street, but there was no sign of the woman. I supposed she could have gone inside one of the houses on the street.

  “Thank you all for coming!” I heard a shout come from the square and knew that the search party for Jethro was about to start. I sighed. I would have to put the mystery of the old woman on hold for the moment.

  * * *

  I buttoned my coat as I stood around the gazebo with the church’s choir members and other residents of Harvest. The group waited in the cold for an explanation as to how the search for Jethro would go. It was nearing six in the evening. We didn’t have much light left. Sunset would arrive within an hour and a half whether or not Jethro was located. The temperature was already dropping.

  Juliet stood on the gazebo’s step next to Reverend Brook, wringing her hands. Her worry had only increased as the hours since Jethro’s disappearance ticked by. Jethro was a pampered pet, not a sturdy farm animal like most swine in the county. He wouldn’t do well in the wild overnight.

  As much as I wanted to be optimistic that we would find the polka-dotted pig, I was doubtful. Jethro had been missing for nearly twelve hours, and we were out in the country. Anything could have gotten him. It made my stomach twist to think something might have snatched up the little animal. Yes, Jethro was a troublemaker, but he was also a charmer. I didn’t want anything to happen to him.

  I scanned the crowd. Harvest was a very small town. It had about the same number of residents as there had been on my block back in New York. Even though I didn’t know everyone gathered around the gazebo that evening, I recognized their faces. Many of them had visited Swissmen Sweets at least once in the time I’d been working there. Most of them were English, but there were also some Amish in the crowd. Everyone in the village knew how important Jethro was to Juliet, and she was well liked by both the English and the Amish in the community.

  Aiden was noticeably missing from the search. I should have expected that he wouldn’t be there. He was in the middle of a murder investigation. I knew he wanted his mother’s pig found just as much as she did. I told myself that I was disappointed for Juliet—not for me—that he wasn’t there.

  “Settle down, settle down,” Reverend Brook said, breaking into the conversations whirling around the group like the leaves shaking in the breeze on the tree limbs above our heads.

  Slowly, the crowd grew quiet.

  The small man nodded. “Thank you. W-we are here to look for Jethro,” the pastor stammered. “As you know, he is very important to Juliet.”

  “He’s important to all of us. Jethro is important to the entire community,” a voice called from behind me.

  I turned back to see who this polka-dotted pig fan was but couldn’t pick out who’d made the statement.

  Tears welled in Juliet’s eyes, and she gripped Reverend Brook’s arm. “I just want to say how grateful I am to each and every one of you for being here this evening. It warms my heart to know so many of you care about Jethro.”

  “Don’t worry, Juliet,” someone else called from the crowd. “We’ll find him.”

  She buried her face in Reverend Brook’s shoulder and cried.

  The reverend appeared stunned by her sudden display of emotion. If it had not been for the gravity of the situation, I would have chuckled at his semi-terrified expression. If I had been a betting woman, I would have said that the good reverend and the southern belle would be marching down the aisle in the big white church within a year.

  “Here, here!” another voice called.

  I was happy Juliet had so much support from the community.

  Reverend Brook clumsily patted Juliet’s back. “We don’t have much light left today, so we should fan out. I hope you all brought flashlights for when the sun does set. The gas lampposts around the square won’t give off nearly as much light as you’d think.”

  I patted my pocket. I didn’t have a flashlight on me. I hadn’t thought to bring one, but I had my cell phone and could use the flashlight app in a pinch.

  Juliet lifted her mascara-streaked face from the reverend’s now damp shoulder. “Remember to call out if you see any sign of Jethro.”

  Chapter 18

  Slowly the group broke up, and searchers walked in every direction. Reverend Brook was left standing inside the gazebo with Juliet, and it was clear he didn’t know what to do with her when she buried her face into his shoulder a second time.

  As the search party fanned out, I felt like I was in the search-for-the-beast scene from Beauty and the Beast, minus the pitchforks and the heart-pumping musical score. Then I looked again and saw that the man in front of me was carrying a pitchfork, albeit a small one. I hoped he didn’t plan to use it on Jethro or anyone else.

  Two women stood to my right, and I recognized one of them as the church secretary. The other woman I had seen in town but couldn’t place. The church secretary’s name was Cate. Somehow, I had been able to pull that out of the back of my mind. I bet Juliet had been the one who’d told me the woman’s name. She was my only real connection to the church and its congregation.

  “A missing pig and a murder—who knew that Harvest would ever be this interesting?” Cate’s friend shook her head.

  “Joy, that is no way to talk,” Cate reprimanded her searching companion. “But you know the murder happened in the church. The whole place should be doused with holy water to get the bad ju-ju out.”

  Joy rolled her eyes. “We aren’t Catholic, Cate. We don’t have holy water sitting around.”

  “We should, and Reverend Brook better get on that.” The secretary wrinkled her long nose. “At the very least, he can sprinkle some on the organ. That’s where she died, you know. Inside the organ. Who would bother killing someone inside an organ? That seems like very cramped quarters to me. I’ve only been in there once, and I was dying—excuse my poor choice of words—to get out.”

  “I don’t think she was killed inside the organ,” Joy replied. “Why would Josephine have gone in there with someone?”

  “Why was Josephine inside the church at all? You know how she felt about us Englischers.”

  “That’s easy. She was there to see Charlotte, her niece. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”

  Cate wrinkled that nose. “You know how much I hate that expression.”

  “It’s just an expression,” Joy argued.

  “You wouldn’t feel that way if you had a nose like mine.” She touched the end of her long nose.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your nose. It’s a perfectly good nose.” Joy folded her arms. “Can we focus on the task at hand? We haven’t even looked for the pig yet.”

  Cate looked around the square. “Maybe we shouldn’t be out here. I like Juliet as much as anyone, but my husband wouldn’t be pleased if I got killed searching for her pig when he thinks I’m at choir practice.”

  Joy snorted. “You’re not going to get killed. We have the buddy system, and we’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. We aren’t Amish.”

  I stepped closer to the women, cracking an unseen twig under my foot.

  The two women screamed in unison and covered their chests as if to hold their beating hearts in place.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, stepping on another twig. There were so many twigs and sticks in the grass; I wondered how long it took for the town lawn service to pick them up.

  “You nearly gave us both a heart attack,” Joy said. “You need to be more careful where you’re going. You can’t sneak up on people when there is a murderer loose in town. It’s just not done.” She shone the flashlight
in my eyes.

  “She’s right,” Cate agreed.

  “I really am sorry. I’m just here like you are, to look for Juliet’s pig.” I held up my hand, blocking the flashlight’s beam. “Can you put that out? It’s not even dark yet.”

  “You’re not a member of the church,” Cate said in a less than friendly tone.

  “No, I’m not. I’m a friend of Juliet’s.”

  Joy clicked off the flashlight. “You’re Bailey King. Clara and Jebidiah’s granddaughter.”

  “God rest his soul,” Cate said. “Jebidiah was the kindest of men. Always gave my kids extra free samples from his candy shop.”

  “Mine too.” Joy smiled at me. All the suspicion that had been there a moment ago left her face. “Sorry to holler at you just now, but as you can see, everyone in town is on edge, what with the murder and the missing pig.”

  “Do you think they could be connected?” I asked, happy that they seemed willing to talk to me about the murder. Gathering information, at least from these two women, was going to be easier than I’d expected. “Maybe whoever killed Josephine did it to steal the pig,” I suggested.

  Cate shook her head. “Jethro went missing before Josephine died. I can’t see how the two things could be related at all. Besides, Jethro and Josephine have nothing in common. The Amish don’t have pigs for pets.”

  “But both incidents happened around the church,” I said. “The square was the last place Juliet saw Jethro, right across from the church, and Josephine was found inside the church.”

  “Inside the organ,” Joy clarified.

  I nodded. “Right. Inside the organ.”

  “I still can’t see how they could be connected.” Joy shook her head. “I wonder if Aiden has given it any thought.”

  Cate eyed me. “Speaking of Aiden, aren’t you and Juliet’s son an item? Juliet talks about the two of you quite often. She’s very happy about your relationship with her son.”

  “There is no relationship.” A blush rushed to my cheeks. “We’re not an item. Our families are friends. That’s all.”

  Cate shook her head. “That’s not how Juliet sees it. In her mind, the two of you are practically married.”

  “We aren’t,” I said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

  Cate shrugged. “She thinks the same about her and Reverend Brook, for that matter, so it’s possible she has it wrong, I suppose.”

  Joy frowned. “In any case, it’s a shame. You can’t do any better than Aiden Brody. Aiden is one of the nicest men in the county, even if he works for that tyrant of a sheriff. I wish someone in the county would work up the nerve to run against him.

  “If Aiden ran, he’d be the next sheriff. Mark my words, and then he’ll be a real catch.” She winked at me. “If I had an unmarried daughter, I would be throwing her into his path every chance I got. Sadly, I do not. My daughter married a grocer in the next town over, a year ago. He’s nice enough, but he’s no Aiden Brody.”

  Cate nodded in agreement. “Take my advice, Bailey, and lock that boy down. If you have his mother on your side, you’re set. Aiden has always doted on Juliet. He’s at the age that he should be looking for a wife by now.”

  “I know young people seem to be getting married older and older nowadays,” Joy said with a sigh. “My daughter was thirty-eight when she got married. Thirty-eight! Can you believe that? Now she’s thirty-nine, and I have very slim hope of any grandchildren.”

  “A lot of women have children later in life now. I don’t think it’s all that uncommon,” I said.

  “Maybe less so where you are from,” Cate said. “But in Holmes County, most people still get married at a proper age.”

  “And what’s a proper age?” I asked, even though I suspected I’d find the answer annoying.

  The church secretary placed a finger to her chin and thought for a moment. “I’d say between twenty-two and twenty-six. At twenty-seven, it might take longer to find someone, and each year it becomes harder and harder.”

  I was twenty-seven. Had I been a milk cow, Cate would have put me out to pasture.

  “If you count the Amish in the county, it’s even younger,” Joy added.

  “Many of the Amish still marry in their late teens or early twenties,” Cate said.

  Joy nodded. “I wanted my daughter to get married right out of college. Was that too much to ask? I even sent her to college so that she’d come back with a ring on her finger. No luck. Over ten years later, she showed up with a grocer on her arm. Heaven help me. I’m losing hope for grandbabies. My daughter told me to call her dog my granddog. Can you believe that?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want children. Maybe they are happy with the dog,” I suggested.

  “Hold your tongue,” Joy said. “Are you saying that I’m going to die without having the joy of grandchildren in my life? That’s why I had children in the first place. Well, that and to have someone to take out the trash on garbage day. My children were never consistent with that, so I should at least be given grandchildren to make up for the disappointment.”

  It was time to steer this conversation back on track. “I happened to overhear the two of you talking about the murder. I’m sorry if it sounds like I was eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help but pick up on your conversation. It’s so horrible what’s happened.”

  Cate nodded. “And during such an important weekend for the town too. Right in the middle of the ACC. We have never had an event in Harvest as important as the Amish Confectionary Competition.”

  “Did you know Josephine?” I asked.

  “I did,” Joy said, looking as if she had a sour taste in her mouth. “She was a prickly woman and not a kind neighbor.”

  “She was your neighbor?” I asked.

  “Not my neighbor, but my brother’s neighbor. Or at least Jeffrey’s store is next to her candy shop in Berlin. And all she ever did to him was complain about the noise and traffic going into his shop. He told me she’d even called the sheriff’s office once about it. Whoever heard of an Amish woman voluntarily calling the sheriff’s office? I sure haven’t.”

  “What happened when she reported him to the police?” I shoved my cold hands in my jacket pockets, wishing I had thought to bring gloves for the search.

  “Not much,” Joy said. “Aiden was the one who went out, and I think he was able to talk my brother down. Jeffrey was mighty worked up over it. In his forty years of running the hardware store, he’d never once had someone call the police on him.”

  I considered this new piece of information. If Aiden was the deputy who went out to talk to Jeffrey about the complaint, that meant he knew about it. It also meant that he might have Jeffrey on his suspect list. I needed to learn all I could about the hardware store owner.

  Cate tapped her chin. “I still don’t know why Josephine was inside the church. I’ve never seen Josephine Weaver there. She’s very strict, you know. I think that was why I thought it was so odd when I saw her.”

  I froze. “You saw her? When?”

  “This morning,” Cate said. “She was outside the church.”

  I thought for a moment. “But can’t that be easily explained? Except for myself, almost all the contestants are storing their ingredients and other supplies inside the church fellowship hall.”

  Cate nodded. “Yes, I remember that now, but she was there much earlier than any of the rest of them. Besides, Berlin is less than ten miles away. She really didn’t have to store her things.”

  “What time was she there?” I asked.

  “Maybe seven. I was at the church early. Reverend Brook always arrives at seven-thirty on Thursdays because that’s the day he writes his sermons,” Cate said confidently. “I arrive just before him to make sure he has everything he needs, including his Earl Grey tea. The reverend is very partial to Earl Grey tea.”

  Joy snorted. “He should make his own tea, if you ask me.”

  Cate shook her finger at her friend. “I’m not going to give him a hard time about it. He g
ives me four weeks’ paid vacation plus personal days. I’m not going to put up a fuss about making tea.”

  Joy rolled her eyes.

  “Was she with anyone?” I asked.

  Cate blinked at me. “Who?”

  I inwardly groaned. “Josephine. Was she with anyone when you saw her outside the church?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but she was pacing. I remember that for certain. It struck me as odd. It’s not often that you see an Amish woman pace back and forth like that. Typically, they’re better at hiding their emotions. If I was pressed to decipher what that meant, I’d say Josephine Weaver was nervous.”

  And a few short hours later, she was dead.

  Chapter 19

  As it turned out, the flashlight app on my cell phone might be decent for finding my keys at the bottom of my purse, but it wasn’t great for searching for a missing pig in the brush. The tiny light illuminated only a few inches of space beyond my outstretched hand. Two hours had passed since the search for Jethro began, and the sun had set.

  Because I wasn’t doing much good searching for Jethro in the bushes dotting the square, I walked across the street that divided the church’s property from the square. A half dozen strong beams of light moved back and forth around the church as the searchers canvased the area for the missing pig in a grid pattern. There were enough searchers moving about the grounds with adequate flashlights to help me see where I was going.

  Flashlights moved across the parking lot’s blacktop, and dozens of voices called Jethro’s name. “Jethro?” I called, adding my voice to the mix.

  “I should have expected to see you here searching for Juliet’s pet,” a man said behind me. I turned to see Jeremiah holding high a battery-operated lantern.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’re looking for Jethro too?”

  He nodded.

  “I didn’t see you around the gazebo,” I said.

  “I was a little late. I had to go home and feed the animals on my farm. I’ve been away so much, with the ACC being in town, that I haven’t been able to give my farm much attention.”