Material Witness

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Which was?”

  “A wood block.”

  “Say again.”

  “Wood block, Captain. You know. It’s a type of musical instrument.” When Taylor grunted, Shane shifted the cell to his left hand and held the pressure bandage he’d made from ripping off the hem of his shirt, applying steady pressure to Gavin’s head, with his right hand. “Send Leroy in his personal vehicle. He’s our best crime tech. We definitely have some footprints and if we’re lucky, he’ll score fingerprints as well.”

  “Already on his way.”

  Replacing the cell phone in his pocket, Shane studied the scene until the medic arrived. He hoped Gavin could be transferred without too much attention. The last thing he needed was gawkers and a crowd.

  Once again he had the creeping sensation of a noose tightening. He hoped it was their perp’s neck that was in the loop.

  Thirty minutes later Gavin was conscious and being worked on by the medic.

  “She can stitch it here. I’m fine.”

  Shane looked to Sylvia, who shook her head and showed him her clipboard. Fortyish with short, gray hair, she was what Shane’s mom would call “sturdy.” There was no nonsense about Sylvia. Shane had worked with her for at least five years — since she’d moved to Shipshe from Indianapolis. He’d seen her smile once — when Perla had slipped in the mud on the side of the road and sprained her ankle. Perla had been trying to help an Amish family who was broken down, but she knew nothing about changing the wheel on a buggy. She’d been one mad, muddy mess, and it had made Sylvia smile.

  But most of the time, like right now, Sylvia was all business.

  Turning her clipboard toward Shane she pointed to where she’d circled “possible concussion.”

  “Sorry, Andrew.” Shane pushed the clipboard away. It was all he needed to see. “You have to get stitched up properly and have your head examined. I’ve been telling you that for years.”

  Sylvia’s top lip twitched, but she denied the smile while she repacked her supplies.

  “I can’t believe I walked into her trap. I was a little behind when I followed her into the music tent and back out again. I was trying to catch up, came around the corner here, and that’s the last thing I remember.”

  “Could have happened to any of us.”

  “Shouldn’t have happened to me. Wouldn’t have happened to me when I was enlisted. You slip up like that overseas, you come back wrapped in a flag.”

  “No one’s wrapping you in stars and stripes today. Call the Captain when they’re finished with you, and he’ll send someone to pick you up.”

  He’d made it back to the Buick when the call came in over his radio.

  “Black, we need you over here in the town’s supply barn.” Taylor sounded more grim than he had since they’d found Mrs. Knepp’s body.

  “I was headed to the quilt shop to get Callie’s statement.”

  “You’re going to want to see this.”

  Shane was there in five minutes, and Leroy followed him. They didn’t have an overabundance of crime techs in Shipshe, but if things kept up like they had this past year, the council might look at hiring more. Not a cheery thought for a Saturday in September. The town’s barn was quiet this time of day. Most folks were downtown at the festival. The back area held animals that had been in the Saturday-morning parade. The front was a storage area reserved for vendors.

  Shane had no trouble finding the crime scene.

  This time there was an ambulance, though no lights were blinking. Leroy began setting up immediately.

  Somehow Trent had managed to beat Shane there once again.

  “Shouldn’t you be photographing the gospel quartet performing right now?”

  “Sorry, Shane. This story’s going to take precedence.”

  “Can we subpoena his police scanner?” Shane said to no one in particular.

  “Wouldn’t do much good. I’m guessing he has a backup.” Taylor handed Shane the preliminary witness report, nodding toward two teenage Amish boys who were sitting on bales of hay near the door. “Those two found her when they came in to clean up the area. Their uncle had told them to do it first thing this morning, but they’d put it off.”

  Shane handed the report back and moved closer to the deceased. “Estimated time of death?”

  “I’ve been here less than three minutes. You think I can give you that?” Leroy didn’t even bother looking up as he continued taking photographs of the woman draped over the side of the barrel. “It looks to me like someone drowned her in two feet of water by draping her over the side of the barrel and holding her head under until the life drained out of her body. Then she was left here.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Can’t know that yet.”

  “I think you can guess, which is all I’m asking.”

  “Her skin’s still warm. No rigidity and only slight discoloration. It hasn’t been long. Maybe thirty minutes.” Leroy sat back on his heels. “Who kills a woman in an apple barrel? Look at this. He stopped and took a bite out of a gala. At least that’s what it looks like. We have one sick hombre on our hands.”

  “Yeah. Bobbing for apples is dangerous business, depending on who you’re playing with.” Shane walked over to the purple hat lying a few feet away.

  Their thug had left an apple with a bite out of it and the woman’s hat. Why? He wasn’t even trying to cover his tracks.

  Or had he been interrupted by the boys?

  And why had he killed his accomplice?

  The closer they came to the end of Creeper’s path of destruction — and it would end when the festival closed; somehow Shane knew that — the more the questions piled up around him.

  It wasn’t the questions that bothered him though, it was the clock ticking down in his mind.

  Chapter 23

  MELINDA HAD BEEN HESITANT about going into town, but Noah had assured her — with a look and a touch — that everything would be fine.

  She knew the boys would not leave the farm.

  There was no doubt she could trust her sons to their father’s care. Now that they were onto the boys’ plans, Noah wouldn’t let them out of his sight.

  So why the feeling of uneasiness? The turning in her stomach was hard to define — like waking in the middle of the night and knowing she’d left something important undone. But what?

  As she directed her mare Ginger through the line of traffic, she wondered how she’d ever find a parking spot.

  Hannah bounced on the seat beside her. Melinda had planned to take Hannah to Noah’s parents, but when she’d arrived at their house, it had been empty. Somehow she’d failed to remember they were both working at the festival this weekend. Too much was on her mind. She was forgetting things, and that wasn’t good.

  “Look, Mamm. Pretty. Look,” Hannah said.

  The booths were beautiful with their wares set out in colorful displays against the white canvas tents. Melinda spied everything from hand-carved birdhouses to homemade desserts to T-shirts. Then there were the smells drifting from the various food booths. Melinda’s stomach began to rumble in spite of her nerves.

  She had not been able to do much eating since Mrs. Knepp’s murder. The meal at Esther’s last night had looked wonderful, but after she’d filled her plate she’d found her appetite had fled like the last of the afternoon’s warmth.

  Her mind kept going back to the body, the police officers, and her son’s pale form huddled in his chair.

  Driving past Callie’s shop she noticed the parking lot was jam-packed. “Guess we’re headed to the public parking area, boppli. Maybe we’ll see your grossdaddi there. Seems he was working the ten-to-two shift.”

  “Daadi.” Hannah’s grin widened. She dearly loved both of her grandfathers.

  Melinda was glad she’d brought the stroller. She didn’t relish carrying her baby girl back through the crowd. While Hannah was walking well, she usually gave out and started crying after a block or two at the most.

  When the
y reached the public parking area, Noah’s father directed them to a spot at the far side of the lot. It was shady, and he knew Ginger would rest peacefully there while Melinda took care of business. After talking to her father-in-law for a bit, Melinda plopped Hannah into her stroller and decided to cut across the back of the auction building rather than walk through the parking lot.

  They were coming around the corner of the building — Hannah already nodding off in the warmth of her stroller, clutching her foursquare quilt, which she’d had since she was an infant — when Melinda heard a familiar voice coming from within the auction building. At least it sounded familiar, but she couldn’t make out exactly what the man was saying.

  She pulled up short, unsure what to do.

  The voice was loud. The words blunt like nails being hammered. The man sounded angry and hurt, and his words were spoken with a sense of urgency.

  “You might have hidden the truth from everyone else’s eyes — with your Englisch clothes, your tattoos and city ways, but you can’t fool me. I know who you are.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “Is that right? Did we not grow up together? Has it been that long since we shared the same supper table?”

  Melinda thought to push on. She knew it was wrong to listen, but the man’s voice began to crack and break and she found her feet refused to walk away. Doing so felt as if she were abandoning someone in need, someone who was bleeding and crying for help.

  “What do you think I’m asking of you?” the first man continued, the older one, the one Melinda was certain she knew. “Only that you come home.”

  “You think this is my home? I want nothing to do with your plain life.”

  “Then why would you come back?”

  “You know why.”

  “I don’t.”

  “That’s a lie!” This voice, the younger one, Melinda didn’t recognize, but it seemed she should. Something tickled the back of her mind, something she couldn’t quite reach. The one thing she knew was this man intended his words to harm the other, like Matthew’s rocks when he used his slingshot. Even if it was to kill a snake, he slung those rocks for one purpose — to injure.

  Something crashed within the room of the auction house, and Melinda pulled back instinctively.

  “It’s not a lie. You know me better than that. I’ll tell you another truth. You’re going to wish one day you were doing these things you say you hate — working a field or sitting by the lake or worshipping with the family —”

  “That shows how little you know me.”

  “I know you’re caught up in this mess.”

  “What would you know of that?” This was said sharply. The man was surprised, and he waited for an answer rather than slinging more words.

  Quietly now, calmly, in the Amish way, the older man spoke again. Melinda found herself praying his words would sway the one who was angry. “You haven’t forgotten that families stay together. That we will stick with you, help you to find a way out.”

  “You will help me with nothing.”

  “Ya. If you’ll let us, we will. All that’s needed is the one thing. All that’s needed, bruder, is for you to come back home.”

  “That place isn’t my home. Hasn’t been for years. You disgust me, Levi. You and your ways. It’s why I left, and why I’ll never come back.” The voice she didn’t recognize grew louder as the footsteps moved closer.

  Melinda had barely enough time to pull Hannah’s stroller back around the corner of the building before she heard the building’s door open. As she pressed her body against the wall, pulled the stroller as close to her as possible, the door slammed shut.

  Steps hurried in the opposite direction.

  She waited to hear if Levi would follow, but he didn’t.

  Finally she peeked around the corner, but all she saw was the back of a dark Englisch vehicle parked at the corner of the cross street and a man hurrying to open the car’s door.

  Was the man driving it Levi’s brother?

  Was this the man threatening her son? The same man who had killed Mrs. Knepp?

  It seemed the killer they were hunting for might be Amish after all.

  She hurried in the direction of the quilt shop. She needed to call Shane. He needed to know the identity of the man in the auction house.

  Esther once again helped clear the dishes from Reuben’s table on Saturday evening. It seemed they were repeating themselves. Everything was looping back over the previous evening.

  But nothing was the same.

  Gavin’s seat was empty.

  Callie seemed more angry than frightened.

  And Melinda acted as if she couldn’t let her boys more than three feet from her side.

  “I believe I’ll take the boys out to play a game of tag with the other children,” Noah said.

  “But it’s nearly dark.” Melinda glanced out the window.

  “Best time if I remember right.” Noah’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  The boys’ attention swiveled from their father to their mother and back again.

  From what Esther had gathered, Noah had worked them quite hard all day after they’d been caught not telling the full truth to their parents. The other children had already scattered, but Matt and Aaron still sat at the table with little interest in their dinner. It seemed they’d barely had the energy to lift their spoons from the stew to their mouths. Now they were sitting up straight and alert.

  “Can we, Mamm?” Matt asked.

  “Please?” Aaron slowly flipped the brake on his chair back and forth.

  “If your dat thinks it’s safe … All right, I suppose so.”

  The boys never heard the last three words. They were away from the table in no time. It had always amazed Esther how well Aaron maneuvered the wheelchair. Through the wall of the barn, she heard Matt call out to the other children who had already moved to the other side of the barn. Giggles and laughter followed.

  “Probably you’ll be needing my help,” Jonas said. Stopping behind Deborah, he added, “It will do them gut to run off some energy before bed.”

  Esther slipped the first dish into the water. “It must have been a terrible shock for you, Melinda.”

  “Ya. What if Thomas had turned around and seen you?” Deborah stepped up beside them at the sink. “I don’t think he would have hurt you, but—”

  “Doesn’t bear thinking about.” Esther scrubbed the dish harder than necessary.

  “I didn’t actually recognize Thomas,” Melinda admitted. “It was Levi’s voice I knew. When I reached the quilt shop and called Shane, he figured out the second man was Thomas.”

  Shane called Callie to the table. “I want you to look at this,” he said, unfolding a map of Shipshewana and the surrounding area on the table. “When Thomas calls tonight, we need to be ready. Follow the script, Callie. Remember you’re talking to a man who has killed twice and may be willing to kill again.”

  Melinda jerked at the word killed, nicking herself with a knife she was placing beside the sink.

  “Reuben has some Band-Aids in the cabinet near you, Deborah. Could you get her one?”

  “Of course.”

  “Let me help you.” Esther pulled Melinda’s finger under the faucet, to the rinse side of the sink, and turned on the cold water.

  “It’s nothing. I should have been paying better attention.”

  “I know what it was. It still surprises me to hear Thomas’ name as well. To think it’s one of our own. To think he could have done these things …” Esther watched Melinda’s blood trickle down the drain and tried to envision how this could end well.

  “Reuben has a stack of old rags next to the Band-Aids. I believe they are freshly laundered.” Deborah took Melinda’s hand in her own as Esther turned off the water. When she applied pressure to the small cut, fresh blood poured out, staining the cotton.

  “You gals have everything under control over there, or do I need to call a medic?” Shane asked.

  “Are you
all right, Melinda?” Callie glanced up, worry coloring her features.

  “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

  Max padded over to check out the excitement. It amused Esther that Callie never brought her dog into any of their houses, but Reuben insisted the Lab be allowed into his home. He said it was a barn after all. Seemed fair that Max be welcomed in where cows and horses had lain for so long.

  Esther thought Reuben’s reasons ran deeper. She thought on some level Reuben was thanking Callie for the fact that he was free and able to continue his life where he was most comfortable, where he was meant to be. Reuben was a gracious man, even having become a father-figure of sorts to the boy who had not reported the death of the girl on Reuben’s property. Now Samuel Eby was working in the RV factory north of town and had become a frequent visitor at Reuben’s home.

  “Max is checking on you, Melinda.” Esther reached down and gave the Lab a scratch behind his ears. She’d never been particularly fond of dogs, but Max was different. His eyes seemed so expressive, as if he understood more than they could ever guess. “She’s fine, Max. I promise.”

  Sniffing Melinda’s dress once, Max turned and padded back to Callie. Turning in a tight circle once, twice, then three times, he lay down under the table, very close to her feet.

  “How did Levi and Sadie take the news, Shane?” Esther wrapped the Band-Aid around Melinda’s finger, then shooed her away to the table.

  Shane glanced up from the map. “Quietly.”

  She thought he wouldn’t say any more, but then he added, “He offered to help in any way he could. I think he wants this to be over, wants his brother safely caught. I did convince him to move his family to another relative’s for the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Do you think that’s necessary?” Deborah returned to the dishes and began washing.

  “Better safe. We’re going to direct Thomas to an alternate location — to here.” He pointed to an X he had marked on the map, directly over an abandoned farmstead that had sat empty for more than five years. “If worst comes to worst though, Thomas may try to contact Levi tonight. I’d rather his family not be there.”

  “I still don’t understand how you identified him so quickly,” Melinda said, staring down at her bandaged finger.