Kappy King and the Pickle Kaper Read online

  Jimmy shrugged. “She said something about her hair.”

  That was completely not specific. She could be washing it, cutting it, combing it. Who knew?

  “Did you have breakfast?” Kappy asked.

  Jimmy nodded. “She gave me a bowl of cereal before you got here.”

  “Cereal’s not enough.” They had been working hard, Jimmy especially. He needed more to eat than a bowl of cereal.

  “Come on.” Kappy hooked one arm toward the house.

  “I’ll help you find something.” She knew there were a lot of challenges with Jimmy and food. Like he wouldn’t eat red foods. That included anything from red gummy bears to spaghetti sauce. She knew it had to be a chore for Edie, but that was no excuse to barely feed him.

  Kappy pushed into the back door of the house with Jimmy close behind. It was past time she and Edie had a talk. If she thought the Amish were nosy before now, she would understand just how nosy Kappy King could be.

  Right after she got Jimmy some ham and eggs.

  She found a frying pan under the stovetop cabinet, then turned back to him. “Do you eat ham?”

  His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Jah. Why?”

  “It’s red. Well, sort of.”

  “When you fry it it’s brown,” Jimmy explained.

  “Fine.” Kappy set the pan on the stovetop.

  “You don’t have to cook for me,” he said.

  “You need to eat.”

  “But I already had something.”

  She shook her head. “A bowl of cereal is not enough for all the work you do.”

  “I eat cereal every morning.”

  Kappy stopped. “Every morning?”

  He nodded.

  “What did your mamm feed you?”

  A small cloud of pain moved across his features. “Cereal.”

  “Really?” She hadn’t pictured Ruth as the kind to take modern shortcuts, but she hadn’t known her neighbor that well.

  “Well?” Edie’s voice drew her attention. “What do you think?”

  Kappy’s eyes widened, and Jimmy stood with his mouth hanging open. Both were speechless.

  Edie strolled into the room like one of those Englisch models on a long fashion runway. She mock tossed her hair over one shoulder and struck a pose.

  “It’s . . . it’s . . .” Kappy couldn’t find the words.

  “Pink!” Jimmy squealed.

  Indeed it was. Bright pink. All around the crown of her head, fading to pale pink on the ends. Underneath it was still blond.

  “I know Jimmy likes it.” Edie dimpled at her brother.

  “I love pink,” Jimmy added with a grin.

  “I love pink, too,” Kappy finally managed. But it certainly wasn’t a color for hair. “Why?” It was the only thing she could ask.

  Edie gave a loose-shoulder shrug. “I felt I needed a change.” Kappy glanced at the clock, then placed the skillet back in the cabinet. She worried about Jimmy, but it wasn’t like she could force him to eat. “At eight thirty in the morning?”

  “It’s always a good time for a change.” She moved farther into the room and sat down at the table as if everything were as normal as yesterday. Come to think of it, they hadn’t had many normal days as of late. But that was beside the point.

  “Does this have anything to do with Jack Jones coming for supper tonight?”

  Edie’s face twisted into something that made her look like a squinting duck. “Pul-lease.”

  “Please what?” Kappy asked.

  “Please don’t ask me dumb questions.”

  “If it’s so dumb, then why haven’t you answered it yet?”

  “Because it’s so dumb that’s exactly why I’m not answering.”

  “That means jah,” Jimmy chimed in.

  Edie turned her attention to her brother. “Have you brushed your teeth?” She didn’t even wait for him to respond. “Go on upstairs and take care of that.”

  “But I already—”

  “Then do it again.”

  Jimmy looked from one of them to the other. “Why do I always have to leave when things are just getting good?” He started for the door.

  “And comb your hair,” Edie called behind him.

  “What has gotten into you?” Kappy could barely wait until Jimmy was out of earshot before asking.

  “Nothing.”

  “At the risk of calling you a liar, that is not the truth.”

  Edie sniffed and raised her chin, like a duck letting water roll from its back. “Believe what you want.”

  “I believe what I see.” Kappy waved a hand in her general direction. “Your clothes . . .” She trailed off with a shake of her head. “Your hair is pink, and you’re treating Jimmy like a child. What has gotten into you?”

  “You bought him bubbles.”

  “Everybody loves bubbles. Why are you acting like he doesn’t have a brain?”

  Edie sighed, her body deflating as the starch went out of her demeanor. “I worry about him, okay?”

  “You worry about him?”

  “Yeah. I worry. It’s been so long since we’ve been around each other. And you seem more comfortable around him than I am. That can’t be right. I’m his sister.”

  “He knows that.”

  “But what if—” She stopped. “Never mind. Did you want something to eat?” She nodded toward the pan Kappy still held.

  “You’re not getting off that easy.” Kappy shook her head. “Finish what you were going to say.”

  For a moment, Kappy thought she might not answer. When Edie finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “What if I can’t protect him?”

  A wave of understanding washed over Kappy. “I used to think that about my family. Why couldn’t I save them? Why was I the only one who lived? We don’t have answers to those questions, but we still have to move on, move forward.”

  “I suppose.” Edie dropped her gaze into her lap and picked at an imaginary spot on her stretchy orange pants. Mixed with today’s green-and-gold shirt and two-toned pink hair, she looked like someone who had been in one of those races where they throw paint on a person. Kappy never saw the draw in running, then having paint tossed at her when she was hot and sweaty, but she never saw the draw in the running itself. So who was she to judge?

  “Now,” Kappy began again with a smile, “what are we going to feed Jack tonight?”

  * * *

  To Jack’s credit, he didn’t blink an eye when he saw Edie’s hair. Kappy was a little concerned that he would turn around and not even come into the house, but he simply nodded and handed her what appeared to be a store-bought lemon cake repackaged to look as if it had been made at home. It was hard to tell for certain, but with all the fancy swirls of icing and the fact that the cake was almost too pretty to eat, Kappy figured he had stopped and picked it up somewhere.

  “Smells good in here.” Jack sniffed appreciatively.

  “I hope you like chicken Alfredo.” Edie clasped her hands in front of her and locked her elbows, looking like a young girl at her first singing. If she didn’t loosen up a bit, they would never get any information from the detective.

  “I do.”

  Pleasantries aside, Kappy directed everyone including Jimmy into the dining area. Jimmy had already set the table, and everyone found their seats.

  “This was a nice surprise,” Jack commented after Jimmy said grace, and they started to fill their plates.

  Edie shrugged. Thankfully, she had found herself again and was once more acting like Edie. “Oh, you know, when you are a part of a community, you have to be a part of the community, don’t you think?”

  What was she talking about?

  Jack frowned. “I suppose. Yes.” He looked anything but convinced.

  “We just had this terrible tragedy, and it made me realize how short life can be. We should reach out to the others around us.”

  Kappy closed her eyes and willed Edie to stop talking. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain, but she
suspected that she preferred the starstruck, giggly Edie to this one.

  “Blue Sky is a great place to live,” Jack commented. Kappy couldn’t tell if he was sincere or merely being kind.

  This conversation was not going in the direction she needed for it to go if they were going to find out what Jack knew about the accident.

  “I love it here.” Jimmy grinned.

  “How are your puppies?” Jack asked and the conversation turned to dogs until everyone had finished their salads. Edie enlisted Jimmy’s help to bring in the next course while Kappy said a little prayer that the creamy Alfredo sauce would work its magic on Jack’s bachelor stomach. Kappy had never been one to court much, but she had heard it said that if a girl wanted to make a man fall in love that she should cook for him. This was the same thing. Sort of. They didn’t want him to fall in love, just be full and content enough to spill some of the case evidence their way.

  “How’s your spaghetti?” Kappy asked after everyone had been served.

  Jack looked down at his plate in confusion. “It’s not spaghetti. It’s fettuccine.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t like spaghetti.”

  “I remember,” Jack said with a sad smile.

  When Jimmy had been arrested for his mother’s murder, he had been served spaghetti in jail and had gone into a fit. Jack had been very concerned about him.

  “You know who really liked spaghetti?” Edie asked with a too-bright smile. “Sally June Esh.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Kappy blurted before she could stop herself. What had happened to their plan? Edie was supposed to subtly lead him into a conversation about the girl. This lead-in was anything but subtle.

  “Me either,” Jack said, looking as wary as a sparrow in a room full of cats.

  “How do you know that, Edie?” Jimmy asked.

  Edie’s cheeks turned almost the same color as her hair. “Her . . . mother told me. At the funeral.”

  “Interesting topic of conversation for a time like that.” Jack wiped the corners of his mouth.

  Edie shrugged. “You know how grief can be. Makes people all wacky.”

  So does love. Or extreme like. And that was exactly what Edie had for Jack Jones. She could deny it all she wanted, but Kappy could see it now as plain as day.

  “Any luck locating the driver of the car?” Kappy asked.

  Edie gasped and Jack’s eyes narrowed. Kappy figured the direct approach was best now. They had thrown subtlety out the window a while back.

  “No.” He looked from one of them to the other. “Are you two trying to figure out who did this?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why would we do something like that?”

  Luckily, Jimmy was too engrossed in his supper to pay them much mind.

  Jack sat back in his seat and pushed his plate forward as if finished with the meal. He had barely eaten half, and Kappy wondered if he might leave without even eating a piece of the scrumptious-looking cake he’d brought. “It seems that the two of you keep turning up. Sort of like when Ruth was killed. And then this invitation to supper . . .”

  “We’re just concerned about our community. That’s all,” Edie said with a sniff.

  “Right. Because I could use a little help.”

  “What?” Edie and Kappy spoke at the same time.

  “I know there are some witnesses out there who have information, but no one in the Amish community or the Mennonite community will talk to me about it. I was hoping that maybe the two of you could help me.”

  Chapter 15

  “I’m just saying,” Kappy said the following morning, “maybe we should have told him about the texts.”

  Edie rolled her eyes in Kappy’s direction, then turned back to the road ahead. “You know why I can’t tell him about the texts—”

  “Jah, jah, and you don’t think he’ll give us real information about the case.”

  “Why would he? He knows we’ll just be underfoot.” Kappy stared out the window, then closed her eyes as everything grew fuzzy. “Or maybe you should trust him.”

  Edie scoffed. “Whatever.” She paused so long that Kappy opened her eyes to make sure she was okay. “This is much better. We run down our own clues.”

  “Or we could take up a hobby. You know, like painting or gardening.”

  “Art is prideful. You aren’t allowed to paint.”

  “You would be.”

  “And we already have gardens. That’s where the vegetables are, remember?”

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  Edie turned her car into the church parking lot and pulled into the line of vehicles waiting off to one side. “Time to quit sayin’ and start listening.”

  “Do you really think we’re going to find out anything at the church car wash?”

  “We have to be open about these things.”

  “And what exactly are we open to?”

  Edie sighed. “Anything. But mostly we need to find Delilah Swanson’s car and see if it has any damage on it.”

  “Can I help wash cars?” Jimmy chirped from the back seat.

  “Of course,” Kappy said while Edie said, “No.”

  Jimmy sat back with a pout. “I should have just gone to work.”

  “I told you,” his sister said, her patience beginning to slip a notch or two. “You can’t just show up at work because you’re bored.”

  “Can so. Mose told me I could come anytime I wanted.”

  “Mose was just being polite.”

  Kappy took hold of one of Edie’s arms. “Let him wash cars. It might be good for him.” Anything would be better than just following the two of them around town while they checked for clues. “Besides, the preacher’s wife is in charge of the fund-raiser, jah? So we ask her if Jimmy can help and that gives us an opening to talk to her.”

  Edie cut her eyes to the side, then put her car in park. “You know, this would be much easier if you would decide whose side you’re on.” She got out of the car. Kappy and Jimmy followed suit.

  “I wasn’t aware there were sides.”

  Edie looked from the long line of cars to the preacher’s wife, who seemed to be directing everything from where they drove in to who did the windows. “There are always sides.”

  * * *

  Mrs. Robert Swanson, Delilah to her friends, wasn’t exactly what Kappy had pictured for a preacher’s wife. Preacher Sam’s wife, Mary Ann, was . . . well, different. Delilah looked like she’d stepped from the glossy pages of an Englisch magazine. Her hair was a sprayed helmet of unnaturally black curls that somehow seemed to suit her. Thick blue eye makeup, satiny pink lipstick, and a little black dot at the corner of her mouth.

  “She’s a perfect combination of Liz Taylor and Marilyn Monroe.”

  “Who?” Kappy asked.

  “Never mind.”

  “Her pants are a little . . .”

  “Short?” Edie supplied.

  To Kappy they looked a lot like the bottom of a snow-white bathing suit. Her button-down cherry-red shirt was tied in the front and her shoes had thick cork soles. None of it looked like appropriate wear to wash a car. Not that Kappy had washed many cars. But no one else there was dressed as . . . fancy. Most had on patterned shorts and stretched-out T-shirts.

  “Hi!” Edie quickened her steps and waved toward the polished woman.

  Delilah stopped midpoint and directed her attention to them. She drew back a bit, then quickly recovered. “Well, hello there.”

  Kappy wasn’t sure where she had picked up her accent, but she was fairly certain it wasn’t from anywhere in Pennsylvania. Maybe somewhere south . . .

  “This is my brother, Jimmy.” Edie gestured to where Jimmy was coming up behind her.

  Delilah Swanson’s impossibly blue eyes flicked to Jimmy in his Amish hat, pants, shirt, and one diagonal suspender and back to Edie’s eclectic ensemble of lime-green stretchy pants and an animal print shirt that continually fell off one shoulder. “O-kay.” The poor woman looked posit
ively afraid.

  “He wants to know if he can help you with the cars for a bit.”

  Delilah sputtered. “The monies we’re making are for the church.” Her gaze darted nervously around as if she were about to be pranked, and she was preparing herself for the worst.

  “We know that. He knows that, but he likes to help people.”

  “I see.” The preacher’s wife looked as if she was about to take off running. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Edie Peachey.” Edie stuck out one hand. “This is my brother, Jimmy.”

  “Well, Miss Peachey, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for your brother to help a bit. As long as he understands that he’s probably going to get wet.”

  “I know.” Jimmy flashed her his trademark infectious grin. “I always get wet when I water the ducks.”

  “Yes, well. Go over there and talk to that girl in the purple shirt. That’s my daughter, Didi. She will tell you what to do, okay?”

  “Okay.” Jimmy skipped off, leaving Kappy and Edie to face the questioning look of Delilah Swanson.

  “What brings you out today?” the preacher’s wife asked.

  “I assume you didn’t come here just so your brother could help with the cars.”

  Edie shook her head. “My car is in line to be washed. Just helping out in the community.”

  Delilah sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out without saying anything. Which was strange. Kappy fully expected the questions to fly.

  “We appreciate that very much.”

  Edie smiled. Kappy smiled. Delilah smiled as if waiting for them to leave. “Is there something else?” she asked.

  “Which one is yours?” Edie nodded toward the line of cars.

  “Didi. In the purple shirt. She’s our only child.”

  “Not children. Which one is your car?”

  The perfectly practiced look on Delilah’s face slipped an inch or so before she pulled it firmly back into place. “Oh, my car isn’t here. Goodness, no.”

  “No?” Edie asked while Kappy watched with interest. So her car wasn’t in the lot. The one thing they had come to look at.

  “I had a . . . uh, little accident the other day and, well, I didn’t want the pastor to know.” She flashed them a beaming smile, one that was too big for the occasion.