A Plain Malice: An Appleseed Creek Mystery (Appleseed Creek Mystery Series Book 4) (36 page)

Gertie held her arms aloft.
“My child.”

Melinda
’s body quaked. I forgot how to breathe. The syringe clattered to the aisle floor and skittered beneath a seat behind me as Melinda crumbled to ground. Blood trickled down her arm, onto her wrist, and onto the blue aisle.

Gertie stepped forward and placed her hand on the crown of Melinda’s like a pastor blessing a child.

Officer Nottingham and Timothy bound onto the bus. “Chloe, are you okay?” Timothy cried.

I met his clear blue eyes that were so afraid. I nodded because speech was impossible.

EPILOGUE

Three weeks
later, Timothy held my hand as we walked around an old abandoned farm. Paint peeled from the siding of the house and boards covered the windows where glass had once been. The lawn and grounds weren’t much better. The grass came midway up my calf and groundhogs had made the landscape into a landmine just asking for a broken ankle.

Mabel barked as she ran around the lawn and stuck her nose in the groundhog holes, searching for the chubby rodents.

“What do you think of this farm?” Timothy watched me expectantly.

“It’s lonely,” I said.

He laughed. “Come on. Let me show you the house.”

We picked our way through the groundhog burrows to the house. The front porch had seen better days. The floorboards were weather-warped, and one of the pillar
s hung loosely from its pilings. Its disrepair reminded me of the first home I’d lived in Appleseed Creek. The porch had been even worse off than this. It was also where I’d met Timothy. Becky had called her brother over to fix our broken front door.

So much had changed since that day I reminded myself as I thought of the events of the last month. The Blue Suede Tour bus was back in Tupelo by now, and for most of the travelers being on a tour bus with a killer would be a good story to entertain the grandchildren with. Over
time, the event would move from frightening, to amusing, to a tall tale the grandchildren would doubt. At least that’s what it would become for most of the tourists from Mississippi, not all. It was certainly not that for Pearl, who grieved for her cousin and wondered what to do with her new found daughter, nor would it be for Melinda, who was in the Knox County jail awaiting trial. Pearl went back to Mississippi because she could not contend with who Melinda was, but Melinda wasn’t alone. Gertie remained in Appleseed Creek and had taken up long-term residence at the Dutch Inn. She taught Jane and Ivy how to make her famous fish jerky. Cheetos was a fan.

I chuckled.

Timothy smiled. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking about Gertie and her fish jerky.” My face fell. “I hope they will all be all right.”

“Me too,” he said and punched a combination on an electronic padlock. The door swung in.

The outside of the barn was bad, but it had not prepared me for the inside. The wallpaper was torn, holes large enough for Mabel to jump through were in the walls, and
there was the distinct odor of cat who may have mistaken what must be the living room for a litter box. “What happened to this place?”

“
It’s been empty for nearly ten years. The owner died and had no children or family to leave it to. No one seemed interested in buying it. It’s been looted a few times. The upstairs is worse. All the copper piping was ripped out. Even the toilet is gone.”

I peered up the stairs. They didn’t look like they would hold Gigabyte let alone a person. “Who did it?”

“Thugs, who are trying to make a profit.” His jaw twitched. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Curt and Brock weren’t some of the guys who did it.”

I picked at the edge of a peeling piece of wallpaper. “
I don’t want to talk about Curt right now.”

“You’re right. That’s not why we are here.”
He smiled. “Let’s go back outside. It doesn’t smell that great in here.”

I laughed. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Timothy led me through the large kitchen—no surprise, all the appliances and cabinets were ripped out—and out a back door.

Outside, I gasped. The
Kokosing River was a basketball court length away from us. In front of the river was a small orchard of apple trees their white blossoms on full display.

Mabel barked and galloped to the back of the house.

“What a beautiful view,” I murmured.

“I hoped you would like it.”

“It’s great, but why did you bring me here? I thought we were on the way to your parents.”

He grinned. “We are, but I wanted to surprise you with this first. You know I have been looking for a place to buy, and I think this is it. Look at all this space. It’s perfect for everything we need.”

We.

To our right,
a shed the size of a double garage stood. Timothy led me close to the garage. “These I’ll turn into my workshop. Eventually, I’ll build another garage for our cars, but of course the condition of the house is the first priority. Not only does the place need to be gutted, but this was an Amish farm. Everything has to be wired.”

Mabel barked and raced after a
groundhog, she’d finally tricked out of its hole.

I opened my mouth, but
Timothy kept going, “It’s not too far from town. I clocked it. It’s only two miles from Harshberger. That’s not the commute you have now, but it’s much closer than when you and Becky lived at the Quills’ place.”

I watched the groundhog dive into another hole. Mabel tripped over herself trying to catch it.
“I don’t know what to say.”

He paled. “
You were upset when I brought up buying a house without your input. I understand that now. I may have been even more upset than you had been because I knew I’d made a mistake by not consulting you first.” He swallowed. “When we argued that day in the Dutch Inn’s kitchen, I had already purchased this property as a surprise. You weren’t supposed to see it like this. I wanted to fix it up for you, so the first time you saw it was move-in ready.”

I released his hands and stepped. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it
before
you purchased the land?”

“I know I should have. I’m sorry.”

I turned away from him. It wasn’t until this moment that truly realized that Timothy and I were from two different worlds. How would we ever meet in the middle when we thought so differently from each other? Could I contend with his Amish way of thinking for the rest of my life?

“I understand why you are upset, and we can look for another place. This property is still great for my workshop. I can keep my business here. We don’t have to live here. We can find another place that we both like. We don’t have to make an
y decisions right now.”

“That sounds expensive,” I said with my back still toward him.

“It is,” he admitted. “But I just want to make you happy.”

I turned around to face him. “You do.” I gave him a half smile
. “But we are going to have talk about our communication issues.”

He smiled.
“Deal.”

“And even if you are just using this property for business, you will need my help.”

His smile widened. “I will?”

“Sure. I
t isn’t wired yet, I can pick where the outlets and network drops go. You need Wi-Fi, I mean, that’s a given.”

He laughed and the worry lines
on his face smoothed. “I’ll leave all that to you then, and the fact you want to do it makes me love you more.”

“
I’m glad that’s settled.” I shook my finger at him. “But you’d better talk to me next time before you make another big purchase, mister.”

Timothy’s face softened
. “I guess this means I have another confession to make.”

I blinked.
“What?”

“I made another big purchase without consulting with you.” He dropped to one knee.

Timothy took my hand. “Chloe Humphrey.” He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand. “I love you. I want to argue with you until we’re both old and gray.”

“You want to argue the rest of your life
?” I heard myself ask. My voice sounded so far away.

He laughed.
“If it is with you, yes, that’s exactly what I want.” He kissed my hand, and then opened the box. A modest white gold diamond ring with a twist in the band on either side of the pearl-cut stone nestled in the velvet. “Will you marry me?”

Breathe. Breathe.

“Yes.” I finally managed.

He slipped the ring on my finger
, jumped to his feet, and kissed me. “Can you stay out of trouble for a little while now?”

I admired my ring over his shoulder.
It was blurry through my tears. “I’ll do my best.”

He wrapped his arms more tightly around me and laughed.
“Why don’t I believe you?”

About the Author

Amanda Flower, an Agatha-nominated mystery author, started her writing career in elementary school when she read a story she wrote to her sixth grade class and had the class in stitches with her description of being stuck on the top of a Ferris wheel. She knew at that moment she’d found her calling of making people laugh with her words. Her debut mystery,
Maid of Murder
, was an Agatha Award Nominee for Best First Novel, and her children’s mystery,
Andi Unexpected
, was an Agatha Award Nominee for Best Children’s/YA. She writes the Andi Boggs Series for children, the Appleseed Creek Mystery Series, the Living History Mystery Series, and the India Hayes Mystery Series. She also writes mysteries as Isabella Alan for NAL. In addition to being an author, Amanda is an academic librarian for a small college near Cleveland. Visit her online at
www.amandaflower.com
and
www.isabellaalan.com
.

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