Kappy King and the Pickle Kaper Page 3

  “I tried that.” Edie frowned. “But no one answered. It’s not like I can make the other person pick up.”

  And that was true as well. Even with the number, they were no closer to discovering who had sent the text.

  “And there was no voice mail, just one of those automated recordings, telling me that the person at that number couldn’t answer. No name or anything.”

  “You don’t think the kil—person responsible for the accident sent the text, do you?”

  “It’s possible, I guess.” Edie tilted her head to one side as if mulling over the question. “But why?”

  “You know, out of guilt?”

  “You mean they want to be caught?”

  Kappy shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

  “Hmmm . . .” Edie looked around the crowd. Kappy wondered if they looked the same to her. Edie had been gone from the Amish for almost ten years. She saw things both ways: as a woman raised Plain and a woman who lived in the Englisch world.

  Had the killer texted Edie? Or was that person waiting in the crowd? “It could have been a witness,” she muttered.

  “What?” Edie turned her attention back to Kappy.

  “The text. It could have been from a witness.”

  “I suppose.” Edie shifted her gaze to the crowd once again.

  Kappy tried to see it from her perspective. Or at least differently from how she had before. There were Englisch people in attendance, most of them merchants in Blue Sky, owners and managers of the places where the Eshes sold their famous pickles. The Mennonites milling around were friends and neighbors and the owner of the Country Store, which sat across the road from Hiram’s store, Sundries and Sweets.

  And speaking of Hiram . . . his store carried the Eshes’ pickles. And she supposed that he was around somewhere. She hadn’t seen him in a few days. And things hadn’t been the same between them since Ruth Peachey died. Her death hadn’t caused the change but rather the events surrounding it. Hiram hadn’t exactly been supportive when she and Edie had tried to solve the murder. But the more things had happened, the further Edie and Kappy had been drawn into the mystery.

  Which meant . . .

  She shook her head. “What am I saying? This isn’t a murder. That text means nothing. We’re just wound up from all the trouble with your mamm. There is not a mystery here.”

  “Maybe.” But Kappy could tell that Edie said that only to appease her. “Let’s get a plate. Maybe we can find out more in the food line.”

  Amish funeral fare was always the same: cold roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls, and prunes. Always prunes to strengthen the body.

  Edie took a bite and made a face. “I always hated these. They make you go to the bathroom, you know.”

  “Then why did you get it?”

  “Do you think I had a choice? Bertha Troyer came up right behind me.”

  Kappy tried not to laugh. “Serves you right for crashing a funeral.”

  “Quit fussing at me and keep your ears open for anything interesting.” She popped the rest of the prune into her mouth and grabbed her stomach. “Uh-oh.”

  “Edie, be serious. There’s no way the prune worked that fast.”

  “I don’t know what it is, but . . . I gotta go.” She rushed off, head ducked so she could wind her way between the people without being recognized.

  “Kappy King.”

  Kappy tried to smile as Mary Raber sauntered up. “Hi, Mary.”

  “Who was that you were with?”

  “Just a cousin . . . from the west.” Lord, forgive me the lie.

  “Really? I didn’t know you had family out there. I didn’t know you had family at all.”

  Kappy did her best not to just walk away. Mary Raber was the biggest gossip in all of Blue Sky. If Kappy was anything other than as sweet as pie, then it would be all over the valley by sundown.

  “Oh, there’s a few of us left.”

  “Strange. For a minute there she looked a bit like Edith Peachey.”

  “Pbth. . . .” Kappy blew a raspberry, something that Edie did on a regular basis. “No. I haven’t seen Edie in . . .” She trailed off, willing her mouth to quit talking and for Mary to quit asking questions.

  “You know what I heard?”

  “No.”

  “I heard that on top of this tragedy with Sally June, the Eshes found out that Jonah has been dating a girl they don’t approve of.”

  Kappy didn’t keep up with the youth of their district, but news was shared both good and bad. There weren’t many teens in the area who were disobedient. At least not many that she had heard about. “Someone from the valley?”

  “I don’t know.” Mary’s eyes twinkled with excitement over having a captive audience. “That’s the thing. No one has seen him out with a girl. And he’s not committed to dating anyone. Pretty interesting, jah?”

  “I . . . I guess.” She supposed it could be considered interesting, but more than that she felt for the Esh family. They had lost their daughter and now rumors were being spread about their son.

  Kappy had never known Jonah Esh to be anything other than a polite young man. She had heard he was preparing for his baptism classes, but it was still too early to know if that was actually true. They had just had this year’s baptism classes, and there wouldn’t be another until the year after next. Until that time, he wouldn’t be free to date. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t stake a claim on a girl who had already been baptized.

  “I’ve heard it was a Mennonite girl,” Mary continued.

  “But someone else said that she thought it was a girl from Lancaster. An Englisch girl.”

  “Did she say who she thought it was?”

  Mary drew back as if she had been scalded. “Oh, no. That would be gossiping. Excuse me. I think I see Alma over there.”

  Mary moved away before Kappy could say anything else. She did look to see where Mary was headed, but Alma Miller was nowhere around.

  “Whew. I didn’t think she would ever leave.”

  Kappy whirled around as Edie came up. “You were hiding from her?”

  “Of course. She’s got the biggest mouth in three counties. I couldn’t chance it. I’ve been getting enough looks since we got here.”

  “It might have been better if you’d worn the correct apron.” Edie smoothed a hand over her front. “Whatever do you mean? This apron is not the right one?”

  “You know good and well it’s not.” The district’s clothing rules had been drilled into them since they were old enough to sit up without help. A person didn’t forget that in just a few years living with the Englisch.

  “Hmmm . . . I guess I forgot.”

  Kappy debated on whether or not to call her on the lie, but as she prepared what to say next, a voice sounded behind her.

  “Fancy seeing you here.”

  Kappy whirled around to find Jack Jones, detective, standing behind her.

  “And dressed like that, no less.” He let out a chuckle, and Edie started toward him with murder in her eyes.

  Chapter 3

  Kappy could almost hear Edie’s teeth grinding together. As she watched, Edie stilled her steps and propped her hands on her hips as she coolly stared down Jack Jones. “And what’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

  “Nothing.” Jack laughed, but his mirth was cut short as Edie took two steps forward and punched him in the arm.

  “Ow!” He rubbed the spot where her fist struck. “Aren’t the Amish pacifists?”

  “Yes,” Edie said and punched him again.

  “If this is what you call peace, I would hate to see violence.” He rubbed his arm once more.

  Kappy had a feeling his pride was hurt a little more than his arm.

  “What are the two of you doing here?”

  “I think I could ask you the same thing,” Edie countered.

  Jack nodded. “Of course you’re here. It is a funeral and all.” He shifted his weight, then frowned. “But why are you dressed like that?” He flicked
a hand in Edie’s general direction.

  “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

  “Nothing, if you’re Amish. Are you joining back up?”

  Edie looked ready to answer. She opened her mouth, then shut it. She opened it again, and closed it once more.

  Anything she said could be incriminating. It wasn’t like they could tell the police that they were there investigating a crime. But maybe if Kappy told Jack Jones about the text he could help them.

  “Edie got a strange—” She got no further. Edie stepped down hard on her foot.

  “Ow!” Kappy cried.

  “I don’t think it’s strange,” Edie said, her teeth clenched as if daring Kappy to contradict her.

  “Now that wasn’t suspicious at all,” Jack drawled.

  “There’s nothing to be suspicious about,” Edie shot back. Jack looked from Edie to Kappy, then back to Edie again. “Uh-huh.” He did not seem convinced. But that didn’t mean Edie was going to give up her secrets.

  “And are you here in an official capacity?” Edie asked.

  That’s the way. Change the subject.

  But Jack was nothing if not smart. He stopped just long enough for Kappy to know he was allowing the shift, then he turned his full attention to Edie. “Something like that.”

  But Edie couldn’t press him. If she insisted on knowing what he meant, he could just as easily turn the tables on them once again. “Well, good luck with that.” She grabbed Kappy’s arm and pointed her in the direction of the buggies.

  “Are we leaving?” Kappy asked, stumbling along beside her.

  “Might as well,” Edie grumbled. “We’re not going to find out anymore today.”

  “Kappy.” She turned as someone called her name.

  “Hiram,” she greeted him in return.

  “I didn’t know you would be here.”

  Kappy shifted from one foot to the other, unwilling to admit that she and Edie had crashed the funeral.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He turned toward Edie, hand out to shake, but his expression froze as he saw who she was. “Edie Peachey, is that you?”

  Edie just smiled.

  Hiram shook his head. “Should I ask?”

  “No,” Kappy replied. “Are you okay?” He looked tired with dark circles under his eyes and a pinched look around his mouth. Surely that wasn’t because she had told him they could only be friends for now.

  “It’s Willie. He’s gone again.”

  Kappy wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved that she wasn’t responsible or saddened because the look was caused by his brother’s disappearance.

  During the last couple of years, Hiram’s younger brother, Willie, had been having a tough time, leaving the Amish for greener pastures only to return a month or so later. But he had left and come back so many times, Kappy couldn’t understand why this time would be so upsetting to Hiram.

  “Did something happen?” she asked.

  Hiram shrugged. “It just feels different this time. Mamm’s worried. Everyone’s worried.”

  Kappy wanted to ask why this time was different, but she kept quiet. She and Hiram had agreed to be friends and only friends, but that didn’t mean she should pry into every aspect of his life. “I’m sorry,” she murmured instead.

  He nodded. “Just keep him in your prayers, please. I have a feeling he’s going to need them.”

  * * *

  “What was that all about?” Edie asked once they had hitched up the buggy and started back for their houses.

  “Hiram or Jack?”

  “Hiram. I know what Jack wanted.”

  Kappy shot her a quick look. “You do?”

  Edie nodded. “But Hiram . . .”

  Kappy explained as best she could about Willie’s choices and how they were affecting the family. “His mamm has been beside herself for years, doing everything she can to keep him happy so he won’t leave.”

  “Willie always was her favorite,” Edie muttered.

  “That’s not very nice,” Kappy countered.

  “But true.”

  Okay, so maybe she couldn’t agree with that point. It was true that Willie was Janet Lapp’s favorite child. Or maybe it just seemed like it since he required so much more attention than his siblings. Ever since Kappy had known him, his mother had done everything in her power to make him happy, keep him comfortable, keep him with her. But the older he got, the more restless he seemed to be, until he started leaving the Amish for months at a time. Kappy fully expected that one time he just wouldn’t come back and that would be that. Maybe that was what was different about this time. Maybe the rest of the Lapps could tell that this time Willie meant it.

  “I guess we should stop by and pick up Jimmy, jah?” Kappy asked.

  “I can go get him in the car,” Edie said.

  “Or we can pick him up in the buggy.”

  “The car would be easier,” Edie countered.

  Kappy shook her head. “It’s not about easy. But I guess you never learned that while you were here.” Or she had forgotten it.

  “You know what I think? I think you are trying to make me Amish again.”

  “It was your idea to dress Amish and go to the funeral.”

  “But it was your idea to take the buggy.”

  Kappy shot her a look. “Really?”

  Edie shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

  At the main road, Kappy turned the buggy in the direction of Mose Peachey’s shop.

  “Why do you suppose Hiram said this time was different?” Edie asked. “You know, Willie leaving.”

  “I didn’t think you were paying that much attention.” Edie tugged the prayer covering off her head, then shook her hair free. “I was trying not to.” She was still a little put out that she was shunned, even though she had to expect it. After all, she had left the Amish after joining the church. Rules were rules.

  “I don’t know. I wanted to ask, but . . .”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “It’s not my business.”

  Edie nodded. “Don’t you feel a little . . . vulnerable on the road like this?”

  Kappy glanced over to see Edie’s white-knuckle grip on the dash. “Not particularly.”

  “Even after Sally June’s accident?”

  “You believe it’s an accident now?”

  “Just sayin’.”

  “Well, don’t. You can’t worry over God’s will.”

  “God’s will . . .” Edie mused.

  “Things that are out of our control.”

  Edie let go of the dash and sat back in her seat. But she didn’t respond.

  Kappy gave her one small glance, then turned her attention to the road ahead. They rode along for a time, the only sound the rattling whir of the wheels on the pavement and the clop of the horse hooves.

  “We’re early,” Edie said, as Kappy pulled the buggy into the parking lot at Mose’s bait shop.

  “Amazing what happens when you leave on time.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Edie swung down and started for the shop, leaving Kappy to hitch up the horse and trail behind.

  “Good afternoon.” An Amish woman nodded toward them as she walked past them to her own parked buggy. Kappy had never seen her before. She was tall and thin with dark hair streaked with gray. At least what she could see of it was.

  “What do you suppose she’s doing here? I mean, it’s a bait shop, and she doesn’t look like a fisherman,” Edie said.

  “Buying honey.”

  Edie turned around, Kappy supposed to stare at the stranger. “She doesn’t have a bag.”

  “Quit being so suspicious.”

  The inside of the small shed was dim and cool. And mostly geared toward the male. Crossbows hung from hooks in the ceiling. A large cooler hummed and gurgled in one corner. It was filled with hellgrammites, the odd-looking larvae of the dobsonfly that apparently fish couldn’t get enough of. At least that was what the handwritten sign above the cooler said. Several other types of hun
ting and fishing equipment were displayed around, though Kappy couldn’t identify most of it. Fishing poles and rifles, and that was where her knowledge ended.

  Jimmy’s face lit up like a firefly when he caught sight of them. “Edie, Edie, come look.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the cooler.

  She shook her head, resisting his efforts. “I’ve seen those things, and they give me the creeps.”

  Kappy had to agree; they were a little like fat millipedes with several legs to propel them along.

  “Not them. We got something new in today. Look, minnows.”

  Kappy frowned. “Mose didn’t have them before.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “No, but he got them in for me. I like the fishing stuff, and he said he would expand his business, but I have to take care of them.”

  Edie’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

  “Of course I am. I can take care of puppies and gerbils, ducks and rabbits. I can take care of fish, too.” He beamed her a proud smile.

  But unlike puppies and gerbils, someone was going to feed these fish to other, bigger fish. But Kappy wasn’t about to tell him that. A job like that belonged to his sister.

  “That’s great,” Edie said, though her tone was anything but excited.

  “Dat’s trying to build up the store a bit more.” Fifteen-year-old Mel Peachey took a proud step forward. “I’m going to run things soon.”

  “Good for you,” Edie murmured.

  “That lady who just left? She wants to sell canned goods,” Jimmy added.

  “What did you tell her?” Kappy asked. Not that she wanted to sell any of her own canned stock, but it was still good to know. Kapp making kept her busy, but it was never a bad idea to keep one’s options open.

  Jimmy made a face. “That she would have to come back when Mose was here.”

  “I could have made the decision,” Mel grumbled.

  “Maybe, but if you made the wrong one your dat would be mad,” Jimmy countered.

  Mel had no comment for that and instead went to straighten the jars of honey stacked to one side of the cash register.

  “He’s also talking about bringing in some birdhouses and baskets made by the Mennonite woman who lives at the bottom of the hill.”