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Authors: Vannetta Chapman

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Or perhaps he did.

Perhaps he understood exactly the things that caused her to worry.

“I heard the
Englischers
were here, and that there’d been a death. Is it true?” At her nod, Tobias picked up the reins and murmured to the horse. “I see Rueben from here, so I know he’s fine. Not that I’d ever believe anyone could better my cousin. He’s bigger than the work horses.”

“It’s a girl, Tobias. A girl who is dead, and I found her.”

“You found her? I don’t understand.” Tobias guided the horse to the side of the lane, a few feet away from the other buggies and vehicles, secured the reins, and turned her toward him. “Tell me everything that happened since you arrived. And why were you here to begin with?”

So she told him about the casserole and the flowers. Described seeing the shiny object, then spying the body.

“A girl, huh?”


Ya
, but she didn’t look familiar to me.”

“There have been no strange girls about this property.” Tobias’ jaw clenched, a look Esther had rarely seen before. “You know our families. Are you sure she’s not related?”

“She’s young — looks to be between fifteen and eighteen. I don’t believe you or Reuben have any girls that age in your family.”

“No. Our nieces and cousins are younger, and they wouldn’t have been out here on a school day, and certainly not alone.”

“Plus her dress was different than ours, Tobias.”

“She wasn’t Amish?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

Tobias listened as she worked through the details she hadn’t shared with Shane Black.

“It was hard to see with the girl still in the water, but it looked like her dress was different than those we wear here in Shipshe. It wasn’t the material so much as it was a peculiarity about the design or pattern.”

“You told Black?”

“What would I tell him? That her dress didn’t look right? He’ll have his ways of confirming who she is, believe me.” Esther heard the bitterness creep into her voice, like frost tiptoeing up on a fall morning, but she couldn’t stop it.

“I know of your troubles with Black.” Tobias pulled her hands into his own, massaged her fingers until her trembling stopped. “Look at me, sweet Esther. Look at me, dear.”

When she finally did, he smiled.

How could he smile when her heart ached so for what was happening only feet away and for what had happened only a few years before?

“I don’t know what tragedy befell the poor girl in the water. And I don’t know why you’ve once again been thrown into the path of Shane Black. But I do know one thing.”

Esther looked down at their hands. She didn’t want to hear the words he was about to say. She was afraid if she didn’t accept them, it would drive a wedge between them, and she needed Tobias in her life.

Their wedding was less than two weeks away.

“Look at me, Esther.”

He waited until she did, then he continued softly, gently. “Do you think it’s by chance that you are the one who found her body?”

“It was the flowers.” Her head began shaking, side to side as if she had no control of it, as if the wind had picked up and was shaking the buggy. “I wanted to bring you something nice — a casserole and then the flowers. You know how you two keep that old barn you live in. It’s clean but …”

“And it was a kind thing for you to do, but Esther look out in front of the buggy, look toward the barn.” To the right of the buggy, across the road and away from the pond waving in the gentle breeze were more flowers. “They grow near the creek as well, and also around the edge of the field where the birds have seeded them.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“It was
Gotte’s wille
that you look up and see the ones by the pond’s edge. That you find the girl this morning. I don’t know how she died or why she died, but now her body will have its proper burial as it should. One day her parents will thank you for that.”

Esther wiped at the tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be involved with this. I don’t want to answer Shane Black’s questions.”

“Often we don’t want to do what God throws us in the midst of, but I’ll be there with you.” Tobias squeezed her hands one more time. “Now let’s go and see if I can help my cousin before his famous temper lands him in jail.”

Chapter 7

C
ALLIE’S LAST VIEW OF THE CRIME SCENE
was from the front of Melinda’s buggy. As they rumbled down the lane, she leaned back against the leather seat and turned to study the woman she was growing to think of as her younger sister. Smaller, with glasses and honey-brown hair that peeked out from her
kapp
, Melinda’s size was in direct contrast to her emotional strength. The mother of three children, one of whom was handicapped, Melinda was probably the strongest person Callie knew.

“Thank you for coming to fetch me.”


Gern gschehne.

“How did you know I needed a ride?”

“Jonas mentioned to Esther’s
schweschder
that you arrived with Trent. She told my
bruder
, while he was at my
mamm
’s house, who told me when I stopped by. I figured Trent wouldn’t be ready to leave anytime soon.”

“The Amish grapevine.”

“Something like that.”

“Trent was still taking pictures. Honestly, how many photos can you take of a dead girl? It’s a bit morbid.” Callie glanced back at her dog, who was now sitting in the buggy’s backseat, trying to look out the small window. “I wouldn’t leave if it weren’t for Max. I believe he’s getting hungry.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Melinda reached across and patted Callie’s hand before covering her mouth to trap the giggle that threatened to escape.

“What can you possibly find funny at a time like this?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve never thought of you as plain before.”

“Seriously? The clothes? You’re going to focus on the clothes when it looks as if Shane might handcuff Reuben at any moment?”

“Oh, come now, Callie. You don’t actually think Shane will arrest Reuben, do you?”

“From what I could tell — not that I was eavesdropping — they were able to establish an approximate time of death to within twenty-four hours. Tobias has a strong alibi, which Shane was able to immediately confirm.”

“Tobias had been working and sleeping at the feed store.”

“Yes, and there were plenty of witnesses to support that, but Reuben — “

Melinda maneuvered her buggy onto the two-lane road and allowed the horse to pick up speed as they headed back toward town. “Reuben rarely leaves the farm.”

“I don’t know what I think, but Shane was not happy about the way Reuben refused to answer questions.”

“It’s Reuben’s way. You know that from Stakehorn’s murder earlier this year.”

Callie cornered herself in the buggy and studied Melinda. It might be Melinda’s size that brought out Callie’s protective instincts. Of the three closest friends she’d made since coming to Shipshe — Deborah, Esther, and Melinda — Melinda was the one who seemed to need looking out for, but in reality, there was a lot of courage and grace in the little person sitting next to her. Callie had learned that firsthand in the last five months.

Watching Melinda with her children, especially with her son Aaron, had convinced Callie that here was a woman who would
fight whatever battles necessary for her family or friends. Or as Callie’s Aunt Daisy would have said, “Tough stuff comes in small packages.”

“Now
you’re
laughing,” Melinda said. “Or at least smiling.”

“Just remembering something Aunt Daisy used to say. I’ll tell you later. Back to Reuben. What did you mean about Stakehorn’s murder and Reuben keeping his mouth closed?”

“Well, I thought it was you who had tried to talk to him, but I suppose it could have been Deborah.” Melinda pulled up on the reins as a Mustang convertible sped past them on the road. Max barked at the car once, then settled down on the seat. “It isn’t that Reuben held anything back during the investigation, though I’ll admit he’s not comfortable speaking with
Englischers
.”

She threw Callie a glance, her gaze traveling from the hem of Callie’s long dress to the top of her dark brown hair, a smile splitting her face. “No offense,” she added. “He wouldn’t be rude or anything. Reuben’s not comfortable when he’s off the farm, and he certainly doesn’t know how to act outside of plain company.”

“Is he more like the Old Order Amish? I’ve read a little about them. They’re stricter, right?”


Ya
, but I’m not sure that describes Reuben well. He fits in with our beliefs here in Shipshe. It isn’t that he thinks the
kinner
shouldn’t have bicycles or that phone shacks are bad for the community. It’s more like he personally belongs to an earlier generation. My
mamm
would say that he was born old.”

Callie ran her hand through her hair. She knew what that felt like. Some days she was sure she woke up years older than when she’d gone to sleep. When she watched television, she felt like she might very well be in the wrong decade, as she was often confused, lost, or plain repulsed by what she saw. Other days she still felt like a child. So it wasn’t that she always felt old exactly, only out of sync at times. “But he would speak up if he knew something, right?”

“I don’t know,” Melinda confessed, her face growing more serious. “The older people, they believe we should handle things within our community. That’s what we have bishops for.”

“But there are laws,” Callie said.


Ya
, you’re right.”

“Certainly Reuben would see that too, especially for something like a homicide or, worst case, murder.”

“Such things aren’t always cut and dried though. Remember what happened to Esther’s husband? The
Englisch
laws said that the boys who caused his death committed murder, but the Amish bishops considered it an accident. Our laws handled it differently.” Melinda slowed as the front of Daisy’s Quilt Shop came into view.

“Esther told me that was why she tangled so much with Shane,” Callie agreed. “She explained that it’s the Amish way to forgive. But this is different, Melinda. This is murder.”

“Maybe …”

“You don’t think she fell, hit her head, and landed in the pond, do you?”

Melinda glanced sideways. “I didn’t notice any boulders or large rocks nearby, but you and Deborah are the detectives of the group.”

They both grew silent as Melinda pulled the buggy to a stop in the parking lot of the quilt shop.

Callie looked up and felt a little thrill at seeing her aunt’s name on the marquee: Daisy’s Quilt Shop. Three small words that provided a connection to the family she no longer had. And yes, there was also the personal pride she had in the tidy little shop. She wasn’t afraid to admit that any longer. She’d worked hard the last five months.

Neat raspberry-colored awnings shaded sparkling, clean windows. Two ladies stood on well-swept sidewalks admiring her pretty fall displays. Autumn flowers bloomed in the beds lining the property.

“Looks
gut
,” Melinda said, following Callie’s thoughts.


Ya
. A lot better than the first time I saw it.” Callie leaned over and hugged Melinda. “Do you have a minute to come in for tea?”

“No. The boys will be home soon, and I wanted to sew a bit before then. We’re working on that new diamond pattern.”

“Bring it by when you have a chance, would you? I’m dying to see how it’s coming along.”

Melinda’s eyes sparkled as she snagged Callie’s hand before she stepped away from the buggy. “Do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Go up to your apartment and change before anyone else sees you. It’s unsettling enough having a possible murder in the area. No one needs the added discomfort of seeing you in plain clothes.”

Max barked once.

Callie shook her head but couldn’t help smiling as she moved toward the shop. Melinda’s ribbing helped ease some of her tension. That and a few hours on the job would put everything right. Surely it would, because back at the pond, she’d had the uncomfortable feeling they were all in for another long ride.

In fact, she’d had the distinct thought, standing beside Esther, that this time could be worse than the last.

But how was that even possible?

Before she could dwell on the possibilities, she opened the door to the shop, Max bounded inside, and Callie lost herself in the warmth of her fabric and buttons and quilt kits.

Then the afternoon activities took over, including changing clothes as Melinda had suggested. During the course of those chores, Callie did what she’d often done as a child: She pushed what was troubling her to the back of her mind.

Reuben watched the scene unfolding outside his barn window, and it was as if it were one of the
Englisch
motion pictures he’d
heard his nephews describing. It was as if all that had happened since Deborah had driven her buggy onto his land earlier that morning, discovered the girl’s body, and run screaming for his help — as if all of that had happened to someone else.

No chance of that. It had happened and was happening … to him.

Reuben closed his right fist and worked it into the palm of his left hand. Though he wasn’t old, arthritis had already begun. He massaged his knuckles, kneaded the tendons like his sisters kneaded bread.

He was a big man, accustomed to long days of hard work. It was work he enjoyed. When his muscles ached from long hours in the field, he felt as if he’d done what he should for the day. When his back was sore from hauling feed or cleaning out stalls, he knew he’d completed his half of some contract established long ago.

Each evening he looked out across his
grossdaddi
’s land and asked himself if he had done his best. If he could honestly answer yes, then he was pleased with that day’s work. His
dat
and his
grossdaddi
had always taught him that his best — and only his best — was good enough.

Now, watching the sun set over the unharvested fields, Reuben had the uncomfortable feeling that somewhere, somehow, he’d broken the contract. He’d betrayed both his parents and his grandparents.

But where?

How?

Which step had been the one that had ultimately been the wrong step?

How could he have dealt differently with the girl?

What would have been a better way?

As he watched Shane Black walk toward his door, watched a house key swing back and forth from the officer’s hand, he knew that the next few moments would be the hardest.

The next few moments, another life could hang in the balance.

Reuben closed his eyes and did what he often did. He prayed for wisdom, that he might choose the correct path this time. He prayed for strength, that he might be able to endure what lay ahead. And he prayed for mercy, God’s mercy, as man’s mercy meant nothing to him — he neither expected nor wanted it.

Then he took one last swallow of cold, bitter
kaffi.

Something told him it might be the last homebrewed
kaffi
he would have for quite some time.

Shane didn’t bother to knock on the door. He did stop to argue with Tobias.

Reuben turned away, not wanting his memory of this last sunset to be scarred.

“I have a legal right to question him again, Tobias. Now you can be present or you can leave, but you will move out of my way.”

Shane stepped through the door, still holding the key. Apparently Tobias hadn’t noticed it yet. He was still trying to prevent the lawman from entering their house.

“Don’t think because we’re a bit unfamiliar with your ways, that you can come in here and — “

“It’s all right, Tobias.” Reuben met Shane’s gaze without flinching. He wasn’t sure why the key had been in the pond, but when they brought the machinery and the nets, he’d suspected they would find something. There were only three questions to be answered now.

What else had they found?

How much did Shane know?

How much would he guess?

There was no use shying away from it.

“Esther mentioned she saw something shiny in the water, Reuben. When she was first cutting flowers, it’s what drew her eyes to the body.” Shane stepped forward, placed the key on the wooden table that stood between them. “Apparently the girl had this
clutched in her hand, or she might have been wearing it around her neck. Sometime between when Esther spied the body and when our crime techs arrived, the key sank to the bottom. It took us a while to dredge it up. Look familiar to you?”

“Don’t answer that, Reuben. You don’t have to answer any of his questions.” Tobias now moved forward to the end of the table, his shadow casting a straight line across the room as the evening’s last light fell through the window. “That key could have been in the pond for years.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could have. The string would have rotted though. I suspect Reuben knows that.”

Reuben joined them at the table, put his hand on Tobias as if he could keep him out of the middle of this, as if he could move him back out of the house where he wouldn’t have to hear what was coming. “Say what you intend to say, Mr. Black.”

“I want to know what this key was doing in the bottom of your pond? Why did the girl have it in her possession?”

Reuben didn’t answer.

He’d decided when they’d first shown up this morning that if his answer would require him to lie, he’d remain silent. A nod could be interpreted any number of ways, but an outright lie he would avoid. It was a fine line, but the best he could do under the circumstances.

“We’ve already tried the key, Reuben. We know it unlocks your grandfather’s house. Was she staying there?”

“You had no right!” Tobias practically exploded. “The pond, yes. But you had no right to go into my
grossdaddi
’s house.” His face turned red in the light of the setting sun, and Reuben had to look down, look away.

The pain on Tobias’ face was nearly more than he could stomach.

“We had every right. When Judge Stearns cleared a search warrant for the area surrounding the body, it included the entire murder site — “

“You don’t know it’s a murder. The girl could have fallen. She could have slipped. She could have even jumped in and drowned herself.” Tobias’ hands went up and out in frustration, finally settled on his head and yanked at hair that was already an unruly mess. He pulled with both hands, causing it to stand out like the horns of the old bull in the back pasture. It was a habit he’d had since they were boys.

BOOK: A Perfect Square
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