by Kelly Irvin
Ezekiel’s legs shook. His hands trembled. He ran shaking fingers over his head. He breathed in and out. He would walk down to the phone shack and call the sheriff’s office. They would want to know if anything was missing. Hard to say in this mess.
“Daed?” Leah’s voice, high and tense, called from down the hallway. “I saw the light come on. Are you all right?”
He staggered back to the living room and plopped into the upright chair. “What are you doing out so late?”
“Kenneth’s running a fever. He has strep throat. I keep getting up to check on him. Then I can’t go back to sleep.” She sidestepped a pile of cookbooks, turned upside down, their pages ripped and torn. “What happened in here?”
“It looks like someone decided to redecorate.”
“It’s not funny.” Leah picked up one of the cookbooks. Its cover had been ripped off. A page featuring a photo of peach cobbler hung by one metal ring. “Were you here when this happened? Sleeping?”
Guilty pleasure coursed through Ezekiel. He stifled the thought as if she might read his mind. His daughter didn’t need to know about the buggy ride with Mary Katherine. “I need to call the sheriff’s office.”
“Freeman first?”
“Jah, Freeman first.”
“You sound funny.” She cocked her head, her gaze worried. “Is it the diabetes?”
“I didn’t eat any dessert today, if that’s what you’re asking. I reckon it’s the shock of this mess.”
“I’m just asking, that’s all.” She ran the words together as she laid the cookbook on the table. “Should I get you some juice?”
“We shouldn’t touch anything until the sheriff’s deputy gets here.”
“Where’s Burke?”
“I don’t know.”
“Shouldn’t he be back from the restaurant by now?” She frowned in the flickering lantern light. “Do you think he did this?”
“Nee.”
“Daed—”
“He didn’t do this.” Maybe it would be better if he had. Sunny would be with him, not in the hands of a thief and vandal. Ezekiel stood and trudged past her toward the door. “I’ll call.”
“I’ll get William.”
Within the hour Ezekiel’s tiny home bulged at the seams with Dan Rogers, who’d been called in from home by dispatch, Freeman, with his mussed beard and sleepy eyes, and William, who stood by the fireplace, hands clasped, eyes closed, most likely praying.
Dan started off with the question that seemed to be on everyone’s mind. “Where’s Burke McMillan?”
“Last time I saw him was at work. He closed the restaurant for me tonight.”
“He should be back by now.”
“He should.”
Dan’s frown matched the one on Freeman’s face. The bishop took off his glasses and rubbed his already red-rimmed eyes. They were all standing because Dan didn’t want the crime scene, as he referred to it, messed up any more than it already had been. “Maybe you should go into town and make sure the restaurant hasn’t been vandalized as well.” Freeman gestured toward the door. “There’s a lot more to destroy there. And it’s a way of making a living for several people.”
“It’s my next stop.” Dan snapped photo after photo with his fancy camera. The flash blinded Ezekiel each time. “After I document this scene.”
It wasn’t a scene. It was Ezekiel’s home. He hadn’t thought of the restaurant either. He didn’t think that way. Besides, Burke worked hard at the Purple Martin. He wouldn’t destroy the place that gave him a reprieve from his own thoughts. “This is more like the burglar who has been breaking into the other Plain homes.”
“The burglar didn’t vandalize the other places,” Freeman pointed out. “The only damage at Mary Katherine’s was the broken window in the back door.”
“Or take a dog.” Dan turned the camera toward the broken saucers on the kitchen floor. “You said Burke brought you the dog. Maybe he took him back.”
“Why would he bite the hand that feeds him? That gives him a pillow to lay his head on?”
“We’d have to ask him that question.” Dan let the camera, held by a strap around his neck, rest against his chest. His free hand gripped the gun on his hip for a second. His fierce expression spoke of what he thought of the situation. “Someone’s targeting Amish folks and getting more violent about it.”
“It’s just property. Stuff.” Ezekiel swept his arms through the air. “A broom and some trash bags and it’ll be gone.”
“It’s against the law to come into a man’s house and destroy his property, his stuff.”
“I’m not saying I approve.” Ezekiel shook his head, trying to find words the Englisch lawman would understand. “I’m not happy a stranger came into my home and did this. But no one was hurt. Dishes can be replaced. I’m not attached to these things. No real harm done.”
“What about whatever was stolen? Are you attached to any of that stuff?”
Ezekiel hadn’t thought about that either. He glanced around, trying to see beyond the intruder’s handiwork to the way the rooms had looked before.
“The teakettle.” William spoke for the first time. He pointed at the propane stove. “The one you like. It’s always sitting on the stove.”
No. Why would a burglar take a teakettle? Ezekiel brushed past his son-in-law to survey the kitchen. The green enamel teapot he used every night to heat water for his tea or his hot chocolate no longer rested on the propane stove. He surveyed the rest of the kitchen and its linoleum floor. Nothing.
“It’s gone.” He swallowed the ache in his throat. No one got upset about a kettle. Even if Lucy had bought it at the Fourth of July auction when she was expecting Leah. Not even if she used it every day after that until she passed away. William didn’t know why his father-in-law liked it so much and Ezekiel didn’t plan to tell him. “Why take a teakettle?”
“The burglar is collecting mementos. He’s furnishing a house. He likes hot tea.” Dan looked as baffled as Ezekiel felt. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What else?”
“The kitchen calendar. It had pictures of birds on it.” Birds that also reminded him of Lucy. “I bought it at the Walmart in Chillicothe.”
He picked his way through the kitchen to the drawers that stood open. The woven loop pot holders the girls made with Lucy’s help when they were six and four were also missing. “Pot holders.” He stopped, afraid his voice would break.
“Ezekiel?”
William looked worried.
“Just pot holders the girls made.” He cleared his throat. “Not worth two quarters.”
“I have a fingerprint kit in my unit.” Dan took a moment to look directly at Freeman. “I’d like to take all your fingerprints. That way I can eliminate them and see which ones don’t belong here.”
“We’re not suspects, are we?” Freeman’s tone was good-natured, much to Ezekiel’s surprise. “And if the burglar wore gloves?”
“Then we won’t know any more than we do now, which is par for the course with these break-ins. No one sees a thing because you folks have so little lighting or no lighting around your homes. You don’t have alarm systems. You have regular schedules and do lots of visiting. Two of the burglaries occurred during church services.”
“It’s a mystery.” Freeman smoothed his wild beard. “Why commit a crime that involves taking worthless things from Plain homes?”
“I don’t know why they’re picking on Amish folks. It’s like a lukewarm hate crime.” Dan snapped more photos. “Lukewarm but heating up with each successive break-in.”
He glanced at Ezekiel. “That doesn’t let your friend off the hook, either.”
“He doesn’t hate us. He likes us.”
“We’ll see.” Dan headed for the door. “I’ll get my fingerprint kit. After I take yours, I’m taking his.”
A few minutes later, Dan called Ezekiel’s name. Relieved at the thought of fresh air and escape from Freeman’s piercing gaze, Ezekiel strode outside.
&
nbsp; “I found some big oversized tire tracks out here.” Dan held a high-powered flashlight in one hand. He pointed at two swaths of muddied, flattened grass that stretched from the dirt road to a spot next to Ezekiel’s front door. “Didn’t you notice this before?”
“It was dark.”
Dan turned and followed the swaths out to the road, snapping photos as he went. The flashes lit up the starless night in startling bursts that made Ezekiel blink even though he knew they were coming.
“Burke doesn’t have a car or a truck. He drives an old motorcycle.” Ezekiel followed the deputy, using his light to make his way. “He couldn’t have done this.”
“Maybe tonight he brought a friend.”
TWENTY-SIX
The biggest difference between courting at sixteen and at sixty? Mary Katherine took a healthy swig of her coffee, laced with two tablespoons of sugar and three packets of nondairy creamer. The scalding liquid burned all the way down. A sixteen-year-old’s body bounced back from lack of sleep more quickly.
She set the oversized mug on the counter and trudged to the Combination Store’s door. She unlocked it, turned around the CLOSED sign to OPEN, and began rolling up the blinds. The morning sun’s brilliance made her wince. After her buggy ride with Ezekiel, she’d tiptoed into her new bedroom and slipped into bed, but she hadn’t slept. No matter what she did, she couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep. Instead, she’d replayed the scene with Ezekiel in her head over and over like a sixteen-year-old. Thus the bleary eyes and faint headache that accompanied her to work this morning.
The door flew open and Bess trudged in, baby Leyla in her arms, a bulging canvas bag slung over her shoulder. Joshua toddled behind her. “You’re here. Gut. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Let me at that bopli.” Mary Katherine flew around the counter and held out her arms. Now that Bess was married and mother of two, Mary Katherine didn’t get to talk to her friend as often as she once had. Frolics and church services were too busy for real conversation. If no customers wandered in early, this might be it. “Look at her. She’s grown. Her cheeks are so chubby. And look at you, Joshua. You’re at least a head taller.”
“I have two heads?” The three-year-old’s eyes grew wide. He patted his brown hair, then held up one finger. “Nee. One head.”
“You’re right, my sweet.” Mary Katherine giggled. “You’re a smart boy.”
“She looks like Aidan, don’t you think?” Bess helped Joshua with his jacket and settled him on the floor with a plastic horse and two cows. “She has his gray eyes.”
“She’s a bit of you and a bit of him, I’d say.” Mary Katherine eased into one of Leo’s rocking chairs and cooed at Leyla. “How are you? Laura says you’re still a little shaken over the break-in.”
Bess dropped her bag on the counter and began pulling from it napkins and doilies embroidered with autumn leaves in oranges, reds, and browns. Her stitching was perfect. “I’m fine. Just perplexed, I reckon. Why would someone do such a thing?” She refolded the napkins and placed them in neat stacks on the counter. “That baby quilt has molasses stains on it. It’s yellowed with age. It means nothing to anyone but me and my mudder.”
“It’s a mystery, isn’t it?” Inhaling the soothing scent of baby, Mary Katherine began to rock. Leyla’s eyes closed. Her tiny hands folded onto her chest. “Deputy Rogers is working on it. We have to trust he’ll find the culprits.”
“And my quilt.” Bess sniffed. “I feel silly, being so attached to an old quilt. It’s just a piece of material. I shouldn’t care so much.”
The wooden chess pieces once held in Moses’ calloused fingers moved across a chessboard in Mary Katherine’s mind. “It’s not the material. It’s the memories. It’s family. It’s babies. You wanted to give that quilt to Leyla someday. Your feelings are natural, and Gott understands.”
“I hope so. I feel silly being so heartbroken over it.” Bess turned, the stack of doilies in her hands. “You look sad yourself. And tired. Laura told me you lost some mementos too. I’m sorry you had to go through this.”
“Like you said, they’re only material things. I’ll get over it.”
“It’s not the break-in. It’s Ezekiel, isn’t it?” Bess laid the doilies on a shelf next to a pile of dresser scarves and tablecloths. She clapped her hands like a little girl. “Did you take a buggy ride? Tell me all. For once, I want to be the first to know. You tell Laura everything.”
“Laura has a big mouth.”
“Laura knows how much Jennie and I want both of you to be as happy as we are.”
“We’re older. Set in our ways.”
“Age has nothing to do with it. Solomon remarried and he’s happy as a man can be.”
Bess’s first father-in-law lost his wife not long after Bess’s first husband died in a buggy-truck accident. It had been a dark time for both of them. “Men are different. They are needier.”
Was that what Ezekiel was? Needy? The image of his face before he bent to kiss her fluttered through her mind. Her face heated and her heart did its own fluttering. She kept her gaze on Leyla’s exquisite nose.
“You’re looking for excuses.” Bess tutted as if she was disappointed. “Please don’t. Life is too short, and things can change in an instant. No one knows that more than we do.”
“I know I encouraged you to marry Aidan. You were meant for each other.” Mary Katherine smoothed the blanket around her sleeping bundle of sweetness. “Now that it’s a possibility for me, I keep wondering what I was thinking. You’re exactly right. Things can change in the blink of an eye. I don’t know if I’m up for that a second time.”
Her bookstore would be simpler, easier. No worrying about a loved one slipping from her grasp again.
“It’s worth it. So worth it.” Bess caressed her baby’s cheek. “I took a chance and look where I am now. What I have now. I hate to think of you sitting all alone in your dawdy haus and Ezekiel sitting all alone in his dawdy haus. It makes no sense if there’s a spark between you two, and I know there is.”
“Why? Because Laura said so? It’s not a simple thing.” Only because she wouldn’t let it be. She was selfish to put her dreams ahead of Ezekiel’s. But they both had a lifetime of experiences, and it would be hard to meld them into one life and one dream. “It’s just taking time to get used to the idea.”
“Time is the one thing we don’t seem to have enough of. I need to pick up some flour and sugar at the grocery store and run by the hardware store for Aidan.” Bess held out her arms and Mary Katherine reluctantly returned the baby. “Don’t be a stranger. Come to supper one night. I want to hear all about Ezekiel. I bet he’s a gut kisser.”
“Bess Graber!”
The other woman’s laughter made Joshua look up from his animals. He joined in, his chortles high and contagious.
“You are much too forward, you know.”
“I know.”
The doorbell dinged again. Their chat was at an end far too soon. Mary Katherine swiveled to greet their customer, but it was Laura who traipsed through the door.
“Guder mariye, my friends. What a beautiful day. I love the cool, crisp air and the breeze and the smell of fall in the air. Don’t you?” She sailed toward them. “Bess, I’m so glad to see both of you! And these cuddly little snuggums! Wasn’t that a great storm last night? Rinsed everything off. It feels so clean today, doesn’t it?”
Mary Katherine stood. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Deborah Gingerich went into labor. Iris had to go deliver her bopli. She took Theresa and Esther with her.” Chuckling, Laura set her canvas bag on the counter and swooped down to tickle Joshua, who ran shrieking toward the front door. “On-the-job training is better than a class any day.”
Mary Katherine rubbed her forehead. Her friend was far too cheerful—and loud—for so early in the morning. “Iris must be eager to get them trained before her bopli comes.”
“I have to go.” Bess gave Laura a peck at the baby and then a
quick hug. “Give Mary Kay a good talking-to. She was so sure about me and Aidan and Leo and Jennie, but now she’s all cold feet and goose bumps.”
“I’ll do my best, but she’s a stubborn old biddy.” Chortling, Laura picked up Joshua’s toys and dropped them in Bess’s bag. “See you Sunday.”
They were gone as quickly as they came.
“Don’t look so sad. You’ll see them again in a few days.” Laura dug through her bag and produced a small bottle of aspirin. “You look like you could use this. In fact, you look like you put your clothes through the wringer with you still in them.”
“Nice of you to notice. It was gut to see Bess. I never get to talk to her anymore.” Mary Katherine accepted her friend’s offering, but she laid the bottle on the counter. Aspirin on top of coffee would only compound her problems. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Worried about Ezekiel?”
Heat singeing her cheeks, Mary Katherine strode away from the counter in a hurry. The shelves needed dusting. And the jars were a mess. She heaved a breath and schooled her voice in a matter-of-fact manner. “What makes you say that? And why did you tell Bess about him?”
“Bess guessed. I didn’t have to tell her. You didn’t hear what happened to Ezekiel last night?” Laura handed her rags and a can of Endust. “Someone broke into his house and tossed the place.”
“Tossed the place?”
Laura read her share of mysteries now that her evenings were free of sudden baby appearances and she lived alone in her dawdy haus. “You know, messed everything up. Broke dishes. Knocked over chairs. At least that’s what Leah told Carlene who told Theresa who told Iris who told me.”
“Who would do such a thing? Was anything taken?”
“A teakettle.”
“A teakettle.”
“Jah.”
The pain in Mary Katherine’s temples intensified. Her stomach clenched. She set the can on the shelf and laid the rags next to it. “I should go . . .”
“Go where? To Ezekiel?”
“He might need help at the restaurant if he’s stuck at home cleaning up.”
