Blueberry Cupcake Mystery (Amish Sweet Shop Mysteries Book 1)

by Naomi Miller

  He giggled in response. “No, I don't think so. No one else I know talks that way. What are plain folk? Are they like leprechauns? The nice man who owns the restaurant in town talks funny. He says it's because he’s from the island where the leprechauns live.”

  At that, it was Katie's turn to giggle. “Jah, Mr. O'Neal has some strange tales to tell, he does. Nee, I am not a leprechaun. Most people call us plain folk Amish.”

  “Oh! I've heard Mama talk about Amish people. She really likes your quilts. Papa was going to buy her one for Christmas last year, but he never got to.”

  Katie watched the little buwe in front of her as he went from happy to sad—in only a moment—and she had a strong feeling something very bad might have happened to his dat.

  “Jah, our quilts are very gut. My mamm makes some of the most beautiful quilts I have ever seen. Is your dat allrecht?”

  “He is now. He went to heaven. Mama said so. I hope she doesn't have to go there, too. I'm glad papa is better now, but I miss him. I don't want to have to miss Mama, too.”

  “Is your mamm sick?”

  “Yeah. She's been awful sick for a good long time. Gwen takes good care of her, but she isn't getting any better. I don't know what to do. I just hope she doesn't have to go to Heaven, too. I would miss her an awful lot.”

  Any thought of solving the mystery of who had broken into the bakery went right out of Katie's head, when she thought of this sweet little buwe losing his dat and maybe his mamm, too.

  “Is your mamm home—or is she at the hospital?”

  “Oh, she's here.” He looked around before leaning in to whisper loudly, “I don't think we can afford no hospital. It costs a lot of money and we don't got any.”

  It was then, that Katie knew for certain, that someone in the family must have broken into the bakery, and stolen the cupcakes and bread.

  The children must be hungry. And if they had no money, the bruder he spoke of must have been desperate to find food of some kind.

  Of course he broke in. If he knew they couldn't pay for anything, he might have felt he had no other choice.

  “So, your mamm is home—and Gwen? Is she home with your mamm?” Should I ask who Gwen is? Is that a nurse . . . a relative . . . his mamm's sister?

  “Is anyone else home right now?”

  “Yeah. My brothers are home too . . . well, not all of my brothers. Travis is in the city. I miss him lots. He came home when we said bye to papa, but he didn't stay very long before he went away again and he never came back.”

  Kate realized then that there were tears in her eyes. That won't do at all. She blinked them away and started to think of what she could do to help them. They for sure needed help!

  It took only a moment to realize she could not do enough . . . not on her own.

  She would need help . . .

  She would need her family . . .

  She would need her freinden . . .

  More tears fell as Katie headed home. This time she didn’t even notice them; instead, her thoughts were on the little buwe and his family.

  I can’t believe it! He’s been going hungry, yet he offers me one of his cupcakes!

  The little buwe had confirmed before she left, that two of his bruders—not just one—had come home with bags full of bread, cookies, cupcakes, and other items.

  As she walked, she struggled to come up with a way to help him—and his family. The whole family needed help—more help than she could give them.

  Ach, I keep going back to that. Well, if I can’t do it alone, I will have to find some help—somehow.

  She knew she would ask for her family’s help. But she wasn’t sure how much they would help an Englischer family in need—after two of the buwes had stolen from the bakery!

  And Mrs. Simpkins! What would she do when she learned of the thieves? What would this young buwe do if two of his bruders were locked up in jail! What would happen to the family?

  “Gott, please don’t let anything terrible kumme from this. Please watch over this family. Send others to help them—now in their time of need. Don’t let their poverty cause the two buwes to end up in jail.”

  The tears were streaming down both of her cheeks, but she paid no attention to them, as she continued to pray.

  “Gott, you know what is best for this little family. Please guide me to the ones who can help them. And Gott, please be with Mrs. Simpkins, when I tell her about the two buwes.”

  “Gott, they didn’t mean to hurt anyone; I’m sure of it. They were just two desperate, little buwes! Gott, I trust you. I trust you to do what is best for this hurting family. And now I thank you for what you’re planning for this family. I know you are planning for their gut.”

  Feeling much better after her talk with Gott, she dried her tears. Looking up, she was surprised to see that she was walking down the path to her own home. She had prayed all the way home!

  Katie walked into the kitchen, where her mamm was preparing the supper to take to the town celebration.

  “Du bischt daheem, Katie.”

  “Jah, Mamm, I am home. It has been a very busy day. And I have something I need to talk over with you. I need some help . . . with something that happened at the bakery today.

  “Go ahead, Katie. Tell me what sort of help you need. What has happened that has got you so het up?”

  “Mamm, You will not believe what happened today at work. When I first arrived at the bakery, the place was a mess. Not only were most of the baked goods taken, but a few of the orders we had prepared for the customers were gone, too. And the decorations in the display case were broken.”

  “Ach, Katie! I had no idea something like that could happen in our small community. I thought when we allowed you to go work in Mrs. Simpkins’ bakery, it was going to be a safe place to work!”

  “The only thing left behind—were the crumbs! Everywhere we looked there were crumbs—all over the place!” Katie looked around the room, as if she was looking for the crumbs.

  “The thieves even took some of the prepared orders we had in the back, plus most of the breads and goodies in the display case.”

  “My goodness! I had no idea something like that could happen in our small community. I thought when we allowed you to go work in Mrs. Simpkins’ bakery that it was going to be a safe place to work!

  Katie stopped to pour herself a glass of water. After taking a couple of sips, she continued.

  “Mrs. Simpkins called the police and a police officer met us at the bakery. It was a maedel; I didn’t know there were maedel police officers. Anyway, she came by to talk to Mrs. Simpkins and me.” Katie looked a bit nervous as she looked at her mamm.

  “Now, I know you and dat don’t want me to talk to the police, and Mrs. Simpkins was just great. She told the police officer I didn’t know anything. She insisted that I be left alone.”

  “Then I need to talk to Mrs. Simpkins; to thank her for this kindness to my dochder. Is this the help you mentioned?”

  “Nay, Mamm. The help I need is with the thieves!”

  “Katie, I’m for sure and for certain glad that you didn’t get into any troubling situation, but what are you thinking—needing help with some thieves.”

  “But Mamm, it’s not like it sounds. It was only an accident that I found out who the thieves are. I had just delivered the last order this afternoon, when I saw a young buwe eating a blueberry cupcake—one that I had baked yesterday, using bright blue wrappers.”

  “Well, for mercy sakes. And he is one of the thieves?”

  “No, Mamm. He has two older bruders who must have stolen all the food they could carry, I suppose. And now I don’t know how to tell Mrs. Simpkins. I’m for sure hoping that she won’t press charges. After all, they were starving. Otherwise, I’m certain they wouldn’t have done it. I’m thinking that you and dat should go by and talk to the children—and their mamm.”

  “Whatever for? Why would we want to interfere? Is the family part of the community—are they plain?”

&n
bsp; “No, Mamm. They are Englischers. But the dat has passed on, and the mamm is sick. I don’t for sure know how the children are getting by. If they have no money for food, it’s no wonder the little ones are sneaking into town to steal. Now I’m knowing that they need to be told how wrong that is . . . but they are for sure needing our help.”

  Soon after Katie had explained everything to her mamm, they had come up with a plan—of sorts. First, Katie boxed up some of the foodstuffs they had in their cellar, while her mamm picked out a couple of pretty quilts for the family.

  While Katie headed back to town, her mamm took herself over to her nearest neighbor’s farm. If these people needed help, it would take more than one family.

  Martha would talk to the Bishop’s frau, who would get some of the other families involved. The community would rally together and see to the needs of this family, whether it was food, or clothes, or financial obligations. And the oldest buwe . . . someone would contact him to come back home—to help out with his family.

  Whatever this family needed, Martha knew they needed the help of their neighbors...

  The bell over the cafe's door clanged madly as Katie hurriedly rushed through it.

  Mr. O'Neal will know how to help me tell Mrs. Simpkins what is going on.

  Katie had left her mamm boxing up more food. She had kumme back to town to speak with Mrs. Simpkins about the family, but she was hoping to have some help with her explanation.

  She knew what the children had done was not a gut thing, but with the police already involved, she was hoping Andrew could help keep Mrs. Simpkins from making their situation even worse.

  “Katie, what's your hurry?”

  “I need your help. I have to go and speak to Mrs. Simpkins and I am mighty worried about how she is going to react to what I have to tell her.”

  “All right then, why don'cha tell me first and then we can go speak with her together.”

  “Allrecht. This afternoon I found out who broke into the bakery.”

  “Now that's something I didn't expect you to say . . . you really found the thieves?”

  “Jah. I really found them. At least I found out who they are. I didn't actually meet them—or see them, but there is no doubt that they are the thieves.”

  “And I'm guessing there's a lot more to that story, then?”

  “Jah, definitely more to the story.”

  “Out with it, then.”

  Katie told him everything she knew—from finding the little buwe, to what he had told her, and finally, to what her mamm and their neighbors were doing right this minute.

  He sat attentively, listening to everything she said, before asking any questions.

  “And he told you his brother is in the city. Did he say where? Which city?”

  “Nee, and I didn't think to ask him.”

  “It's all right, Katie. It isn't as if we can't go back and talk to him again. We'll get the information we need.”

  “Jah.” Katie thought again about the little buwe. The thought of going back to his house made her excited, but sad.

  Excited because she knew she could help him now. Sad because she truly didn't know how Mrs. Simpkins would take the news of the thieves.

  Would she be angry? Would she insist the police arrest those buwes?

  Katie really hoped she would not.

  How old are they? They have to be young buwes. If they were old enough to work, they wouldn't have stolen food to feed their family.

  Andrew interrupted her thoughts. “Here is what I'm thinkin'. Your mam is putting together some things to take over to the family?”

  “Jah, she and a few of her freinden.”

  “So, we have a reason to go over there again. We'll talk to them . . . find out a bit more about what it is that's goin' on with them.”

  “Should we invite Mrs. Simpkins to go along with us, then?”

  “Absolutely. That's part of my plan. I believe Milly would benefit from seeing the situation for herself. Don'cha think so?”

  “Jah. It's a gut idea.”

  He answered with a nod. “All right then, let’s go get Milly. I’ll drive.”

  Andrew stopped his vehicle several houses away from their destination. He looked over at Milly and then back at Katie.

  Milly was stoic, calm, no hint of how or what she was feeling, but Katie—well, she had concern all over her features.

  There were three vehicles in front of the small house—two police cruisers and a small, slightly beat-up car that reminded him of his first car back in Ireland.

  “Looks like we don't have to worry about informing the police.”

  “Shush you.” Milly responded quickly—bringing a smile to Andrew's face.

  “Well, let's go and see what we can do about all of this.”

  He reached for his door handle—and before he could even pull it, Milly was out of the car and on the sidewalk. He looked down and shook his head, feeling a wry smile spread across his face before he opened his door and stepped out.

  Katie had climbed out of the back and turned to close the car door as he rounded the hood, so he nodded at them both and turned toward the house.

  Katie walked along the path to the little buwe's house. The stones under her feet might be old, worn—even cracked and crumbling—but they were clean and the yard around them was well-maintained.

  With no little buwe to distract her, she took the time to look over it a bit more. It was in need of a fresh coat of paint, but it appeared clean.

  There were a few toys strewn about the porch area, but no mess or clutter to be seen. If it weren't for the car sitting in the driveway and the power line running to a pole attached to the house, it might have been one of her plain neighbor's homes.

  She looked over at Mr. O'Neal and Mrs. Simpkins before reaching up to knock on the door. They both nodded, so she went ahead.

  The door was opened by a waif of a girl after only a moment or two. She peered up at them from inside a darkened room, but said nothing.

  Katie looked into the room—over the girl's head—at the sound of several deep voices. The girl flinched a little when one of the voices sounded louder than the others.

  “Is your mother home?” Mrs. Simpkins said, from behind Katie.

  “She is . . . but . . .” The girl turned to look behind her and then turned back to them. “She's not available at the moment.”

  “Is she speaking to the police?”

  The girl didn't answer, but Katie took her frightened expression for a yes.

  “Please, we need to come in and speak with your mother.” Andrew added from behind her.

  “Is that the lady who talks so pretty?” The young buwe, who she'd spoken to before, peeked around the door, taking hold of it with both hands.

  “Bobby, Travis said not to let anyone else in.”

  “But Gwen, she's my friend. I'm sure Travis didn't mean she couldn't come in.”

  “Fine, but I'm not taking the blame.” With that she backed away from the door—which the young buwe swung all the way open.

  “Come on in.”

  “Danki.” Bobby—now she knew his name--giggled at her word and she couldn't help smiling back at him.

  He took hold of her hand and pulled her with him, through the house, to a hall with several doors leading off of it.

  He stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a doorway. Through it, Katie could see two police officers, the police chief, a very tall, thin middle-aged man, two young buwes who could not have been any older than her two bruders and a very pale older woman lying in bed, blankets tucked carefully all around her.

  No one was paying any attention to them. Most of the attention in the room was on the trio of police officers and the tall young man who Katie thought must be Travis.

  She had a moment to wonder who had called him . . . and why they had not called him before they were starving and forced to steal, but she pushed that thought away, recognizing how uncharitable it was.

  It is not my place
to judge anyone.

  One of the police officers shifted and Katie could see that it was the same woman who had kumme to the bakery that morning.

  That makes sense, I suppose.

  Katie watched as the young man argued with the police officers—and since his young bruder made no attempt to pull Katie into the room, she was content to stand outside the doorway . . . as far away from the arguing as possible.

  However, Mrs. Simpkins chose that moment to speak up. She moved past Katie and walked into the room, right up to the group.

  As she did, all conversation stopped. Everyone looked around at each other. Then the policewoman spoke up.

  “Ah, good. Sir, Mrs. Simpkins here is the owner of the bakery in question.” She gestured first to the police chief, and then to Katie's boss.

  As soon as she mentioned the bakery, a deep, red stain crept up the young man's face and he stepped back a little. Then he turned to aim a fierce glare at his younger bruders.

  Katie watched all of it, praying Gott would keep His hand on the situation, guiding everyone to the best possible solution . . . though Katie had absolutely no idea what that could possibly be.

  “So, Mrs. Simpkins, we've been talking with this young man.” And he gestured beside him to Travis. “He informed us that his younger brothers have confessed to him that they did indeed break into your shop this morning and steal quite a lot of bread and other sweets.”

  The young man spoke up. “Yes, but Officer, you must realize the situation was dire. They were starving. They had no idea what else to do.”

  “Yes, you said that before. What I don't understand is what you intend on doing about it. Why are you so certain the situation will not continue to be dire?”

  “Because I am home now. I'll take care of things. And I will make sure this doesn't happen again.” He aimed another fierce look at his bruders.

  “And why is it that you were not here to begin with? Why did you not check on your family?”

  “Because I didn't know how serious the situation was. When my brothers broke into the bakery, Gwen called me. I got here as quickly as I could. I didn't even pack my things.”