The Amish Widow (Amish Romance Mystery) (Amish Secret Widows' Society Book 1) (7 page)

Chapter 8.

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,

shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:7

It was just as Ettie had said it would be. The place was crawling with police when she arrived there at nine a.m. the next morning. Emma walked up the stairs and found that the vulture’s office had police tape across the door. People in white coats were brushing things; Emma assumed them to be looking for prints.

“Can I help you with something?”

Emma turned to see a solidly built man. His appearance was such that Emma immediately recognized him to be a policeman or some kind of detective since he was wearing plain clothing. “I’m looking for Mr. McAllister.”

“He’s not here.”

“What’s happened in there?” Emma pointed toward the office. Just as she did so she noticed a girl in the corridor crying.

“The forensics team is combing the office.”

Emma gasped in a suitable manner. “Forensics? Did someone die?”

The detective studied Emma carefully. “I’m afraid so. I stationed someone on the door downstairs. How did you get up here?”

“I didn’t see anyone down there. I just walked up here. So did Mr. McAllister die?”

“No, it wasn’t McAllister. It was someone else, but we can’t release the name, until we inform the family.” The detective pulled a small notepad and pen from his pocket. “And what’s your name?”

“My name is Emma Kurtzler.” Emma lowered her voice, “Is that girl all right?”

“She’s Mr. McAllister’s secretary. She’s the one who called us. We’ve got a policewoman on the way to interview… to look after her.”

Emma could not take her eyes off the young girl, who Emma guessed to be in her early twenties at the very most.

“Simpson, can you take Liza Weeks downstairs?”

A uniformed police officer stepped out of the office and guided the girl down the stairs.

The detective turned his attention back to Emma. “And what business do you have here?”

“Mr. McAllister has asked me a couple of times if I want to sell my property. I’ve just come here to talk about it.”

“Was he expecting you?”

“No, he wasn’t expecting me. I just thought I’d call in and talk to him about it. He gave me his card, see?” Emma pulled out the vulture’s business card. Emma tried to think quickly. How could she possibly get some information out of the detective? “How did the man die? I assume it was a man?”

“Yes, it was. We think it was foul play so far, but it’s too early to tell.”

“You mean, like murder?”

The detective nodded and turned his attention back to his small notepad. “And where can you be reached? Do you have a phone number?”

“I don’t have a phone at all.”

“What’s your address?”

After she rattled off her address, she asked the detective, “Do you know where Mr. McAllister is?”

“No, I don’t. I will need to ask you some questions later.” He looked her in the eyes and leaned forward. “Don’t leave town.”

“Me?” Emma’s hand flew to her throat. “Why would you need to ask me questions?”

“I can tell you that the man who was killed was an Amish man. You turn up here today first thing, and you’re Amish – maybe there’s a connection.” The detective rubbed his chin.

“He was an Amish man?” Emma tried to act distressed. “That’s awful.”

“Yes, any murder is awful.”

Emma nibbled on a fingernail as she always did when she was nervous. “I might know him then, if he’s from around here.”

“I suspect you might know him.”

Emma took two steps back. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

The detective looked at his notepad and repeated her address.

“That’s correct,” she said before she turned and walked away. When she got down on the sidewalk, she tried to steady her fast thumping heart. That did not go very well. She was sure she was a suspect now, from turning up like that first thing. That had to be a bad idea. Ettie would be upset to find out that her first good idea was not a good
idea at all.

Emma went straight home without speaking to any of the widows. They hadn’t exactly given her the best guidance since she was now most likely the main suspect. As soon as Emma put her foot on her porch she noticed that Wil was walking down the road directly to her
haus.
She waited for him.

“Hello, Wil.”

“Hi, Emma. You’re out and about early this morning, aren’t you?”

“I’ve just been into town, to McAllister’s office and I didn’t see him because the police were there.”

Wil stopped still. “What for?”

“It seems that someone was murdered in his office.”

Wil scratched his chin. “Who was it?”

“They wouldn’t tell me the name, but they did say it was an Amish man.”

“Really? I wonder who it could have been. Murdered, did you say?”

“
Jah,
they think it’s murder, but the detective I was talking to said it was too early to say for sure.”

“What did McAllister say about it?”

“Let’s sit in the kitchen.” Once they were both seated at the kitchen table, Emma said, “I didn’t see him. I don’t know if the police even know where he is. The detective is coming here today to ask me some questions.”

Wil reached out and grabbed Emma’s hand. “You? Why’s he coming to ask you questions?”

Emma was a little shocked at his touch, but left her hand where it was. “The man who was murdered was Amish and I went there this morning so they think that there’s a connection.”

He let go of her hand and threw back his head. “Nonsense, there’s hundreds of Amish in town every day.”

“I suppose they have to follow every lead.” Emma nibbled on her fingernail.

“That’s nonsense.” Wil shook his head. “Why did you go to see McAllister anyway? Have you changed your mind about selling?”

“
Nee
, not really. I just wanted more information from him, that’s all. Maybe find out how much it’s worth.”
He does seem concerned about me selling
, Emma thought.

“I’ll stay with you ‘til he comes here.”

Emma shook her head. “That’s not necessary, Wil.”

“
Jah
, I think it is necessary. You’re a woman alone, Emma. and I’ll not have you bullied.” Wil was insistent.

“He’s a policeman, or a detective; anyway I don’t think that he’d bully me.”

“You can’t be too careful with these things. You need someone to protect you now that…” Wil looked away from Emma’s face.

“It’s all right, you can say it. Now that Levi’s gone.”

Wil looked into her face once more. “He would’ve wanted me to look after you.”

“
Denke
, Wil.”

Two hours later a police car pulled up. Emma hoped that no one in the community would see the police car in front of her
haus
, otherwise she would have to answer too many questions.

The detective got out of the car and looked up at Emma and Wil who were standing outside the front door. Emma noticed that there was a uniformed policeman in the driver’s seat who stayed in the car.

“Hello, Mrs. Kurtzler.” The detective looked up at Wil. “You Mr. Kurtzler?”

“No, I’m not. Mr. Kurtzler is deceased.”

The detective stood in front of Wil and Emma noticed they were exactly the same height.

“Oh, I see. Who would you be?” The detective asked with an unpleasant blunt tone.

“William Jacobson, I’m Mrs. Kurtzler’s neighbor and good friend.”

Emma sensed tension between the two men. “Come inside Mr… Oh, I don’t think I got your name this morning.”

“It’s Detective Crowley.”

Once they were inside Emma showed him to the kitchen table so they could sit. “Would you like a cup of tea or a cup of coffee, perhaps?”

“No.” He looked at Wil. “Would you excuse us? I’d like to ask Mrs. Kurtzler some questions in private.”

Wil pulled out a chair and sat at the table opposite the detective. “No, if you don’t mind I’ll stay.”

The detective clasped his hands on the table. “Actually, it would be better if you didn’t stay.”

Wil leaned slightly toward the detective. “It might be better if Mrs. Kurtzler got a lawyer. Then you wouldn’t get your answers straight away, but if I stay, I’m sure Mrs. Kurtzler would be agreeable to answer your questions right now.” The two men continued to glare at each other.

The detective was the first to look away. “You can stay then, as long as you keep silent.”

The detective took a small notepad and pen out of his pocket. He noisily clicked the end of his pen and turned to look at Emma who was rattling around making tea. “I said, no tea for me, Mrs. Kurtzler.”

“I’m just getting some for myself and Wil. I can still answer your questions while I’m making the tea.”

The detective sat with his back very straight and said, “The man who was murdered was Henry Pluver.”

“No, not Henry.” Wil’s voice boomed loudly.

The detective looked directly at Wil. “You know him?”

“Yes, of course I do. I just saw him the other day. He leases my farm right next door and he leases Mrs. Kurtzler’s farm too.”

“He does?” The detective turned to Mrs. Kurtzler.

Emma nodded. “That’s right. Oh, I need to sit. It’s so unexpected.” Emma abandoned the idea of making tea and tried to look suitably shocked and shaken.

Wil scratched his head. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a murder within the community.”

“Did Henry know Mr. McAllister?” Emma hoped it was a
gut
time for her to start asking questions. Maybe it was a
gut
idea to have Wil there after all.

“We’ll know more of that soon. How long have you been widowed, Mrs. Kurtzler?”

“Just weeks,” Wil answered on her behalf.

“I’m sorry, to hear that.” The detective’s response showed no hint of sincerity.

Emma looked into her lap and nodded slightly.

The detective scratched something in his notepad while he asked, “And how long has Mr. Pluver been leasing your farms?”

“A good five years, I’d say.” Emma got in quickly so Wil wouldn’t answer all the questions. The detective had come to speak to her and Emma did not want to annoy the detective any further. She hoped that the detective would not ask whether Pluver was happy to continue leasing. Thankfully he didn’t. It would only look bad for her if he found out that Pluver did not want to lease her land any longer. Maybe that would be enough to give her a motive for doing away with Mr. Pluver.

“Tell me, detective. Have you located Mr. McAllister yet?” Emma wondered if she should tell him that she was there and she was the one to discover Pluver’s body. But that would also implicate Maureen and she was sure that Maureen would want to keep silent on the matter. Besides it looked as though she was enough of a suspect already and it wouldn’t look good that she had been untruthful from the start.

“Yes we have. He was late in the office today. He couldn’t believe what had happened in his own office. He said there was a key missing, a key from his drawer.”

“Is he a suspect?” Wil asked.

“At this stage Mr. Jacobson, everyone is a suspect.”

“Surely Emma isn’t a suspect?” Wil asked.

Emma swallowed hard, but quickly hid her guilty expression as the detective swung around to look at her. “Where were you last night between six and ten o’clock?”

“She was with me,” Wil answered as quick as a flash.

Emma felt her blood heart pump wildly, yet she had to maintain a cool exterior.

“Is that correct, Mrs. Kurtzler?”

Emma nodded and forced a smile. She wished Wil hadn’t said that; Emma was dragging so many people into this whole mess with her. First there was Maureen and now Wil. That reminded her, she had to get to Maureen fast to tell her – well, to tell all the widows about the detective and that she was most likely a suspect.

“Is that a ‘yes’ Mrs. Kurtzler?” He asked again, apparently waiting for a verbal response rather than a half-hearted nod.

“Yes.” Emma hated to lie and now she was a liar, but she had done no wrong and for the purposes of the investigation she was innocent. Surely a small fib would not affect the detective’s work – she was innocent after all. If the detective knew she and Maureen had found the body that would not help him in his investigations one little bit. They knew nothing of who killed Pluver.

As the detective left, Wil and Emma stood on Emma’s front porch and watched the police car speed up her driveway back to the main road.

Wil clapped his hands against his thighs. “Looks like we’ve got another funeral to go to.”

Emma nodded and thought about Pluver’s widow. She was a very disagreeable woman and Emma was sure she’d never seen her smile – not once. Now she would have absolutely no reason to smile with her husband gone. “Wil, why did you say that you were with me?”