Material Witness

by Vannetta Chapman

  The side of the barn Reuben lived in had minimal heat — very minimal. Melinda realized the Englischers thought Amish homes were cold without electric or gas heat, but the way their kitchen and sitting areas were laid out actually kept them comfortably warm. This was not the case with Reuben’s living arrangement.

  When he and Tobias had moved into the old barn, they’d walled off one-third of it. The third they lived in was still cavernous and impossible to adequately heat. They’d laughed and said it was more like the outdoors, where they were comfortable. A cast-iron stove sat in the corner, but Melinda wasn’t sure how it kept Reuben from freezing during the coldest months.

  For tonight though, it was still comfortable.

  She held Esther’s baby against her right shoulder and clasped Hannah’s fingers with her left hand. Hannah skipped along beside her, as if this were an everyday event, and why should she think any differently? The older children helped Deborah and Esther carry casserole dishes filled with ham, roasted vegetables, and fresh bread from the house.

  She’d barely made it to the door of the barn when she heard an automobile making its way down Reuben’s lane. Her pulse raced, and she cradled Simon closer, squeezed Hannah’s hand, and looked frantically for Aaron.

  “He’s fine. Inside playing and waiting for dinner.”

  How was it Noah managed to appear whenever her worries spiked? Had they been married so long he had developed a sixth sense?

  “Besides, it’s Shane in his old car.”

  “Is Callie with him?”

  “Ya. I’m sure she is.”

  Melinda breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to Noah, she handed him baby Simon. “Stay with your dat, Hannah.”

  Melinda hurried through the darkness toward the car.

  Callie hadn’t unbuckled yet by the time she reached it, so Melinda waited for her to stand and straighten her baggy clothes before stepping forward and enfolding her in a hug.

  “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “I wanted to come and see you, but Deborah said we shouldn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t want—”

  “I heard. No children in the store.”

  “Yes, well. That was a ruse to —”

  “You’re always trying to protect us. How are we to help you if you won’t let us near?”

  Melinda pulled Callie toward the barn and didn’t actually take any notice of Shane until he caught up with them, his voice a deep rumbling like thunder on the horizon. “Callie and I decided that it was better that way.”

  “So you were in on this together.”

  “You could say that.” Callie stopped halfway to the barn, looked back toward the house where the light from two lanterns shone in the main room. “We’re not going to Esther’s?”

  “Not enough room inside the house for everyone. Come on. We were starting dinner.”

  “Why are we passing the new barn?”

  “That’s where the horses are. You wouldn’t want to eat there.”

  “So we’re eating in the old barn?”

  Melinda noticed Callie hesitate as they moved closer to the old structure. “It’s still in gut shape. It was too small for the farming work, but it was built by their grossdaddi. Nearly seventy years old and still standing strong.”

  When Melinda, Callie, and Shane stepped inside, the various conversations stopped. Everyone turned to look at them.

  Melinda could feel it then — all their shared history, their present predicament, and the future they didn’t yet understand all coming together in that moment.

  This was the place where Shane had arrested Reuben, or rather where Reuben had allowed himself to be taken into custody so Samuel Eby could go free.

  These people formed a group as close as the family Melinda had been raised in, a group that loved one another and would look after one another. A group of nineteen people, and yes, the children were included in that number, because somehow the children had been caught up in this too.

  A group of plain and Englisch.

  What was Gotte’s wille?

  How could God possibly be involved in this terrible thing?

  But she knew then. She realized as each person turned to look at them. With Callie’s hand in hers and Shane standing beside her, she understood God had brought them together and had provided for their needs — with one another.

  She looked into her son’s eyes; she couldn’t protect him from all the harm that might befall him. This was the son she had spent so many nights praying over, so many nights worrying he wouldn’t live to see three years of age, then four. Now he was nearing eight. “A miracle,” Doc Bernie had said.

  “Gotte’s wille.” That’s what Noah said.

  That’s what her mamm reminded her about each time Melinda went to her with an aching heart.

  But today a man had tried to kill Aaron — tried to mow him over with a miniature Englisch car — and Melinda hadn’t been there to protect him.

  Shane had done that for her. Shane or God.

  Either way, God had provided.

  Everyone began speaking and the moment was broken.

  Deborah waved Callie over.

  Children found places around the table that had been set up in the middle of Reuben’s living area. When heads were bowed for prayer, Melinda’s heart was so full of fear, of questions, and of thankfulness that once again they were together, that she could only sit with Noah’s hand in hers, unable to form a single clear thought.

  Deborah insisted on helping with the dishes, though Jonas said the children could do it.

  “Not in the house, Jonas. It’s too far. Anything could happen.”

  “Martha can do them here, in Reuben’s sink.” He tucked some wayward strands of hair into her prayer kapp, trailed his hand down her face, her neck, her arm. His fingers on her skin settled her nerves.

  She took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. “I’ll help them, and then Martha can take the younger kinner to the other side of the barn, where we can at least hear them.”

  “Ya. That sounds like a gut compromise. What can I do?” Jonas asked.

  “Distract Shane so he doesn’t make any decisions until I get back to the table.”

  She began gathering plates as Martha ran the water. When Callie stood to help, Deborah tried to stop her but was quickly persuaded to let her join.

  “I need some time with the women,” Callie whispered.

  Deborah smiled and waved Callie forward.

  Once they were in the half of the room that served as a kitchen, which was less than five feet from the table, Callie glanced over her shoulder, then started speaking. “Surely he can’t hear me over the clatter of these dishes.”

  “Who?” Deborah asked.

  “Shane! He’s sticking to me like glue. You’d think he expects the killer to swoop down from the sky and snap me up from in front of his eyes.”

  “Is that possible, Callie?” Melinda pushed up on her glasses and reached for a dish towel.

  “No. How could he when I’m surrounded by half the Shipshe force at all times? I think what happened with Mrs. Knepp was an accident.”

  “An accident?” Esther held baby Simon to her shoulder, rubbing his back in tiny circles, trying to coax a burp. “How do you kill someone by accident?”

  “For some people, apparently it isn’t that hard.”

  Martha looked up from her washing, her arms elbow-deep in bubbly water. “Jacob and Joseph killed a baby pig by accident. Remember?”

  Callie looked at Deborah with one eyebrow raised.

  Deborah shrugged as she accepted the dishes Melinda dried and stacked them neatly for carrying back to the house. “The boys built a crate to house the new piglets, but they didn’t build it with the slats close enough together. One of the piglets escaped and wandered under the feet of the workhorse.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Ya, for the piglet it was awful. Remember, sows have eight to twelve piglets per litter, so the boys
are learning fast, and they’ve been much more careful because of that incident. The remaining piglets were well cared for and there’s been another litter since — with no accidents. I’d say any future litters those boys have a hand in raising will be among the best-kept pigs in LaGrange County. But the one — dead for sure. Not even enough left of him for bacon.”

  “So they killed it by accident,” Martha repeated.

  “Sounds like a case of negligent homicide.” Shane leaned against what passed for a kitchen cabinet in Reuben’s eyes.

  All four women turned and stared at him. Martha suddenly became very focused on her dishwater.

  “I’m kidding.” He raised both hands, palms out. “I think we’re just about ready to start. Gavin just arrived and Taylor is outside on his cell phone, finishing up a conversation with the men in town.”

  Deborah stacked the final plate and asked Martha to go with the older children to the other side of the barn.

  “I don’t get to stay?” Martha squeaked.

  “You’re old enough to know everything, but I’ll tell you later. Right now, I want the younger kinner away from the details.”

  “Makes sense,” Martha admitted. “I like plain ways, but there are days I wish we had a nanny.”

  “There are days I’d agree with you.”

  Deborah moved to the table and grabbed the seat beside Callie.

  Shane had already taken his place on the other side of her. Was the danger so great or was something else working here? Deborah still sensed romance in the air. Maybe. The other possibility was one her mind was shying away from. Their group was in danger because a murderer was on the loose — again.

  Andrew Gavin and Stan Taylor stepped through the door, ushered in by Reuben. They weren’t alone though. Gavin held Max’s leash in his hand. When Max saw Callie he let out a single bark and bounded toward her, dragging his leash across the floor.

  Callie nearly fell out of her chair in her attempt to reach her dog. She buried her face in his fur, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly. It was a wonder the dog stood for it.

  Deborah’s eyes met Shane’s, and she nearly laughed out loud at the naked look of aggravation on his face. He was jealous of a dog? Shane glanced away quickly, but not quickly enough.

  Her suspicions confirmed, Deborah wondered if Callie even realized what was going on with the man. Her friend could be clueless regarding men’s intentions at times. She hadn’t picked up on the fact that both Trent McCallister and Andrew Gavin were interested. When Deborah had pointed it out during their last murder investigation, Callie had quickly changed the subject. But later she’d admitted that though a few dates with Trent had left her laughing, he was more interested in his next news story than a relationship. Gavin was easier for Callie to figure out. More and more she thought of him as a brother.

  Callie sat back down, Max now under her chair. “He’s much better than before,” she whispered to Deborah.

  “That’s gut. Doc England always knows what to do.” But before they could discuss Max’s recovery further, all eyes turned to the head of the table, where Captain Taylor was standing.

  There were no more places to sit. Deborah wondered if they’d have to take this discussion outside or over to the feed barn, but Gavin remained standing, backed up to the wall, though he didn’t lean against it. She’d never seen the man actually lean. He stood erect as always, arms crossed.

  Reuben moved to the head of the table beside Taylor.

  Reuben clapped the man on the back, then began speaking. “Captain Taylor’s here to give us an update of what’s going on in town. I want to add before we start that you all know you’re welcome on our farm for as long as you need to stay. Our way isn’t to fight, but that doesn’t mean we have to stand in the town square waiting for trouble to find us either. Tobias and I would be glad to have you until this thing is settled.”

  He sat down and reached for his coffee cup. Deborah couldn’t help but notice that it looked like a child’s plaything in Reuben’s hands. He was such a big man. Did this Englisch fellow, this Creeper, as Callie called him, know what he was up against? Would it matter? It was well known that Amish took a vow of nonviolence. Was that why he had moved so boldly among their town’s people?

  Taylor met each gaze around the table before he began speaking. “We put Perla in Callie’s apartment at seven-fifteen this evening. She was the closest officer we had to Callie’s size on such short notice. If our suspect is watching from a distance, we believe the decoy will work. If he tries to approach, he won’t have a chance to see that he’s wrong. Perla’s prepared to take him down and is trained in self-defense. We also have additional men around the perimeter of the building.”

  “Is that what you think will happen? You think he’ll go back into Callie’s shop?” Deborah reached over and laced Callie’s fingers with her own.

  “We don’t know, but it’s a possibility. It’s also the reason we didn’t want Max there. The dog won’t settle with Perla like he does with Callie. His uneasiness could arouse suspicion.”

  Deborah smiled when Callie squeezed her hand and reached down for Max with her other.

  “Have you confirmed if it was the same person who tried to run over Aaron and Matthew?” Melinda leaned forward, her arms crossed and on the table, her hands clutching her elbows.

  “As you know, we don’t have traffic-light cameras in Shipshe. However, some of the shops do have outside surveillance. We were able to catch a break at two places — the bank’s outside cameras and the toll-road entrance. Both caught the Smart Car — had to be the same one, because the front bumper was damaged, and it’s the only Smart Car spotted in the region.”

  “And? Was it him?” Callie pulled her hand out of Deborah’s and began to turn her coffee cup around and around.

  “Yes. It was. He had a mask on when he went by the bank, but he’d taken it off by the time he made it to the toll road headed west.”

  “Did he take the toll road all the way to Chicago?” Tobias asked.

  “No. We might have caught him if he had, which indicates he knew that. He took it to the next exit, then we lost him.”

  “Can’t be hard to find a car like Aaron and Matthew described.” It was the first time Noah had spoken. “I’ve never seen one around here or in Goshen or Middlebury. I’ve never seen one at all.”

  “We found the car.” Taylor shook his head as everyone started talking at once, held up his hand. “It had been stolen from a couple over in Middlebury. Our perp left it near the university in South Bend. There was nothing in it, and no prints at all, which means he was wearing gloves. I wouldn’t say he’s a professional, but there are certain things he understands.”

  “No DNA evidence?” Reuben glanced up, met Deborah’s stare.

  She was remembering the courtroom in Fort Wayne, Reuben’s trial, and how they’d tried to use his DNA as proof that he’d committed a crime that he hadn’t done. Was he thinking of the same thing?

  “None that we’ve found, but as you know, there are more types of DNA than fingerprints. It will take time, but we’ll likely come up with something.” Shane pushed back his chair and walked to the front of the table, standing beside Taylor.

  Deborah was reminded again of the burden these men carried, protecting the entire town of Shipshe.

  “We’re closer than we were twenty-four hours ago when we first discovered that Mrs. Knepp was murdered,” Taylor said. “We have wanted posters up and distributed across the state. We have photo identification now that confirms Aaron’s description was good, and we know our perpetrator is determined to stay in the area until he gets what he wants.”

  Taylor nodded to Shane and moved to stand beside Gavin.

  “What he wants is money.” Shane frowned, then added, “Apparently a large sum of it.”

  “He seemed to think I would know where it is, but I don’t.” Callie looked straight at Deborah first, her gaze traveling around the room to each person, then final
ly settling on Shane. “I’m barely getting by each month. I still have a little put aside from Aunt Daisy’s will, but it’s not much. Not enough to murder someone for. I have a feeling he discovered that when he hacked into my computer.”

  She shook her head, pulled her hands into her lap, but Deborah could see that they were shaking now. “The way he talked, it was a lot of money. I can’t imagine why he thinks I have it or why he thinks I would even know where it is.”

  “Somehow the money is connected to you, Callie,” Shane said. “Or he thinks it is. He could be misinformed. Or maybe you do know something, and you don’t remember it.”

  “You would think something like that wouldn’t slip my mind.”

  Shane tapped the table. “Tomorrow is the last day of the festival. I’m assuming you want to keep the shop open?”

  “Yes. If I close it, wouldn’t that make him suspicious?”

  “We could keep Perla in as your double.”

  Callie started shaking her head and turned to Deborah for support.

  “That might work at night when no one is in the store, Shane.” Deborah chose her words carefully. “I don’t see how it would work during the day when there are customers.”

  Shane nodded once, but the muscle along his jawline hardened, and Deborah realized this wasn’t going to be easy for him. He wouldn’t allow himself to rest at all as long as Callie was putting herself in harm’s way.

  “What you did today worked fine,” Melinda offered.

  “True, but our perp will become more restless and less reasonable with each hour that passes. Today he was willing to wait because he thought you’d find the money tonight.” When no one challenged Shane’s dire prediction, he added, “I’d like to take twenty minutes and break up into two groups. Ladies, you know more about what needs to happen at the quilt shop. Make me a list of ideas and what you need to keep it open tomorrow — keep it open safely. While you’re at it, try to come up with some ideas of where this money could be.”

  Deborah, Callie, Esther, and Melinda murmured their agreement.

  “In the meantime, I’d like the men to meet with me, Gavin, and Captain Taylor. We’ll come up with a plan to keep the children safe through the weekend —”