Kappy King and the Pickle Kaper Page 5

  They sat for a moment, staring off toward the road. Neither spoke. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees. Elmer flopped onto his belly and let out a sad, doggie sigh. From the road she could hear the cars zooming back and forth. There was an occasional horn sound and the squeal of tires. But in front of them, the road was empty.

  “So,” Kappy said, needing to fill the quiet between them. Despite the sounds all around, she couldn’t stand the silence that separated them. “Willie left again.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, she was certain, but he simply nodded. “Jah. It’s been a couple of days now.” He shook his head as if trying to sort it all out. “He usually comes home by now.”

  It was hard out there for Amish young people to fit in. They needed help if they really wanted to leave. Edie was one of the rare ones who left once and never came back. Well, she was back now, but not the same as some who returned. She might be planning on staying for a while, but Kappy seriously doubted she would ever make amends with the church.

  “Has he called the phone shanty or anything?”

  “No.” He studied his hands as if the answers were written there in some sort of unbreakable code.

  Kappy frowned at him, trying to get ahold on what was happening. “You’re more worried than I’ve ever seen you.”

  He nodded again. “I am worried. This time it’s different.”

  “You said that already.”

  He sat back in his seat, surprise registering in his eyes. “I did?”

  “At the funeral earlier.”

  “Oh.” He went back to examining his fingers. “Well, it’s the truth.”

  Kappy looked out over the yard to the straight ribbon of asphalt that joined her neighborhood to the main highway. “Why is this time so different?”

  Hiram sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly. It seemed to take forever for him to answer. “Last time he started talking about Englisch stuff about two weeks before he actually left. The time before, it was even longer. But this time . . . One day he was home and the next he was gone.”

  “I see.” Though she found it perplexing. That was tomorrow’s word of the day. She had peeked this morning. “And this is why you think he’s not coming back?”

  “It’s even worse than that,” Hiram admitted. “I’m afraid something’s happened to him.”

  “Like?” Kappy managed to squeeze the word around the lump that suddenly formed in her throat.

  Hiram gave a small shrug. “You know. Sally June died because she was run off the road. And Ruth Peachey was found dead in her barn. What if something like that has happened to Willie?”

  It seemed the crazy events of the last couple of months were getting to Hiram, too.

  “You don’t think . . .” she started.

  “I don’t know what I think. But I’m worried.”

  Kappy wanted to reach out and touch his hand, offer him comfort, but she was afraid that he might misconstrue her intentions. “Give it some time,” she finally said. “He’s only been gone a few days.”

  “I know.”

  “What does your mamm say?”

  Hiram gave a bitter smile. “She’s either crying or threatening to never speak his name again.”

  Kappy nodded. “That’s understandable.”

  Hiram pushed to his feet. “I was hoping that maybe . . . well, you’ve been going around with Edie Peachey. And I thought maybe if you would, you know, keep a listen out for any news or talk.”

  “Wait . . . first you didn’t want me hanging around with Edie and now you want me to use it to your advantage?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  Kappy stood and nudged him toward the steps. She didn’t touch him, just started in that direction, leaving him no choice but to move or get stepped on. “That’s exactly what it’s like. Good-bye, Hiram.”

  He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then loped down the steps and hurried over to his buggy.

  But she knew that she would be listening for any information to help him. After all, they had agreed to remain friends. And she liked Willie. She would hate to see anything happen to him.

  “Are you going to leave your door that color?” He nodded toward the blue-painted front door.

  “As a matter of fact, I think I will.” Kappy crossed her arms and dared him to contradict her. Everyone in the valley knew the myth, that a blue door meant a girl of marriageable age and availability lived there. And Jimmy hadn’t meant any harm when he’d painted it earlier in the year. He had heard that she and Hiram had called off their wedding and wanted to help her find another suitor. Maybe she was being a bit strangely sentimental, but she wasn’t changing the door.

  Hiram shook his head and climbed into his carriage.

  She stood there as he turned his buggy and pulled out onto the road.

  “I didn’t think he was ever going to leave.”

  Kappy slapped one hand over her mouth to stifle a scream as she turned to find Edie standing on the porch behind her. She had changed out of her Amish clothes. Now she wore a pair of plaid jeans in red and black with a bright yellow shirt that hung off one shoulder. At least this one had a sort of strap to keep it from falling completely off. “How did you get there?”

  Edie shrugged. “Back door.”

  Kappy brushed past her and into the house. “I thought you had puppies to feed.”

  “I do. But I have something I need to show you first.” She held her cell phone toward Kappy.

  Kappy took it, but didn’t check the screen. “Were you just waiting for him to leave?”

  “Of course. Now read that.” She motioned toward the phone.

  “There’s nothing here.” Kappy held it up so Edie could see the dark, blank screen.

  Edie sighed, took the phone, touched the screen, then handed it back.

  If you still think it’s an accident, where are the skid marks?

  “When did you get this?” She handed the phone back to Edie.

  “Right when I got home. I came over immediately, but you were outside talking to Mr. Thinks He’s Better Than Us.”

  Kappy started to address the nickname, then changed her mind. “What did you do? Hide behind the shed until he left?”

  Edie rolled one shoulder. “Maybe.”

  “What do you suppose it means?”

  “It means that there are no marks on the road, so whoever hit Sally June meant to.”

  Kappy shook her head. “I still don’t get it.” She whistled for Elmer to follow behind her. He trotted into the house, his ears bouncing and nearly brushing the ground with each step. She shut the door behind them and made her way into the living room.

  “When someone is about to hit something, they usually brake. Hard. And that leaves marks on the road.” Edie flopped onto the couch and waited for Kappy’s reply.

  Kappy eased into the rocking chair and eyed her questioningly. “Were there skid marks at the scene of the accident?”

  Edie made a face. “I don’t remember.”

  Kappy couldn’t, either. She hadn’t been looking at the road when they passed the first time. The smell of vinegar and the crates of pickles had distracted her from everything else. And she hadn’t looked the second time she passed through, either. She had been praying for peace and closure for Sally June’s family. “We could go look.”

  Edie shook her head. “We have to feed the puppies first. Then we eat. You know how Jimmy gets when his schedule is off.”

  “And by the time you eat supper . . .”

  “It’ll be dark.”

  Kappy gave a quick nod. “I guess I could go by myself.”

  Edie was on her feet in an instant, the motion so quick that Elmer jumped to his feet and started barking.

  “Hush, Elmer.”

  The puppy didn’t stop. Kappy grabbed the newspaper sitting on the table. She rolled it up and pointed it at the dog. Elmer immediately fell silent.

  “Impressive,” Edie said.

  Kappy set the paper back onto
the table, then gave Edie a rueful smile. “I’ve never actually bonked him with it, but it seems to work just fine.”

  Edie laughed, then started toward the back door. Kappy followed behind her.

  “Promise me you won’t go look at the crash site without me.” Her voice held a deep, pleading note.

  “I won’t.” Though she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. “Hey,” she said. The words had Edie stopping and turning around. “At the funeral I heard that Jonah Esh is dating a girl his parents don’t approve of.”

  “Like it’s the first time that’s ever happened.”

  Kappy nodded. “I know, but this bothers me for some reason.”

  Edie shifted her weight from one foot to the other and waited for Kappy to continue.

  “Jonah’s a good kid. I mean, I don’t keep up with the youth, but I’ve never heard of Jonah doing anything rebellious.”

  “They think he’s dating an Englisch girl?”

  “No one knows. That’s all part of the speculation.”

  Edie gave a quick nod. “And who gave you all this info?”

  “Mary Raber.”

  Edie laughed. Literally doubled over with her arms wrapped around her stomach. “You’re kidding, right? You’re going to believe anything Mary Raber says? She’s the mouth of Pennsylvania.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, there are three types of communication: telephone, television, and Tell Mary Raber.”

  “Fine. Fine. I get it. She likes to spread rumors.”

  “That she does.”

  “But how is it that you can remember that about Mary Raber, but you can’t remember which apron to wear?”

  “The wonders will never cease.” Edie gave a quick wave and started across the yard.

  Kappy shut the door behind Edie and leaned against it. She felt as if she were missing something, though she had no idea what. It was a strange feeling to think that something was amiss, even though everything seemed in the correct place. Even with Mary Raber going around spreading rumors. Actually, that made the uncomfortable feeling all the more real.

  She made herself a cup of tea, then sat down at the table. She needed to stitch up a bundle of kapp strings, but something about the text message had her glued to her seat.

  She unfolded the newspaper and stared at the headline: Amish Teen Killed in Hit-and-Run Accident.

  Farther down the page was a picture of the buggy turned over on its side, just waiting to be flipped back to rights.

  She was missing something. She just knew it.

  She examined the picture, wishing she still had that magnifying glass she’d had as a child. Maybe then she could make out a few more details.

  Then she saw it. A smudge of blue streaked along the back side of the yellow buggy. If the car had gone after a black-topper or a brown-topper, she didn’t think the mark would have shown up at all, but there it was, plain as day.

  Which meant the car that hit Sally June was blue. Which helped . . . not at all.

  She really needed to get down and see that road. Without skid marks on the pavement, only one thing would hold true. Sally June Esh had been murdered.

  Chapter 5

  Saturday morning, Kappy was dressed and out the door as soon as the sun came up. She had spent half the night thinking about blue paint, wrecked cars, and cryptic text messages.

  And really, she was no further decided about Sally June’s death than she had been the day before. But something in her gut told her that the killer was the one texting them.

  “Why?” Edie asked.

  Kappy had headed over as soon as she could. She wanted to tell Edie about the blue paint. It was a good clue, even if it didn’t help them at all. Not until they could find that blue car. But in an area as large as Kishacoquillas Valley, finding that one car would be like finding a needle in the proverbial haystack. Now they would have to know what kind it was, and even then Kappy wasn’t sure they had any use for the information. It wasn’t like they would know who it belonged to or anything.

  Jimmy was in his happy element, feeding the puppies and cleaning their cages. Watching the dogs racing around and playing in the new, warm sunshine made her wish that she had brought Elmer over for a visit. He might have liked playing with the other dogs. And it could help him be a little happier in his own yard. Yesterday she had found the hole where he had been sneaking out and plugged it with a piece of firewood until she could devise a more permanent fix. Until then, the split log should keep him on the proper side.

  “Why do I think the killer is texting you? Or why did he kill Sally June?” Kappy asked.

  Edie cocked her head to one side. “Both, I guess.”

  “I don’t know.” Those simple words seemed to tear her theory all apart. If there was no why, there was no motive. “Maybe he’s feeling guilty,” Kappy pondered out loud.

  Edie seemed to think about it a moment. “Could be,” she said. “That’s entirely possible. I once saw this police movie and the bad guy kept leaving notes at the scene of all his crimes. Of course the police caught him and said that he really wanted to get caught and that’s why he left the messages.”

  Kappy shook her head. “You lost me somewhere after police movie and before messages.”

  “It’s simple, really.” Edie turned as Jimmy called out that he was heading into the barn for new hay. He was as determined to do a good job with the puppies as Edie was up in the air about selling the whole business. It was heartbreaking. Jimmy could lose all that he had on a whim from his sister. Kappy would just have to convince her to stay. “The killer is texting us because he wants to get caught.”

  Kappy thought about that a moment, but couldn’t decide if she believed it or not. “Are we going?”

  “To look for skid marks?”

  Kappy nodded.

  “You bet your sweet cheeks we are.”

  * * *

  “What are you looking for again?” Jimmy asked.

  As soon as the chores were complete they had all piled into Edie’s car and driven to the site of the accident. They parked in the packed gravel lot at the cemetery and walked across the main road for a closer look. Everything had been cleaned up, and Kappy was sure that to Jimmy it appeared they were looking at nothing.

  In a way, she supposed they were.

  “Skid marks on the roadway. You know, those black tire marks?”

  Jimmy nodded. “Can we go back across now? I don’t like standing here.”

  Kappy had to admit that it was a little unnerving, standing on the side of the road where so recently a young woman had died. She felt vulnerable and found herself looking over her shoulder for a blue car.

  “We just need to find that car.” Edie smacked her fist into the palm of her other hand.

  “And then what?” Kappy asked.

  “Well, we could tell the police, for one.”

  Kappy shot her a look. “Like you told them about the texts?”

  “We,” Edie corrected. “We’re in this together.”

  “Nuh-uh.” Kappy shook her head. “Your phone. Not mine.”

  “Sister.” Jimmy bounced on the balls of his feet, his anxiety apparent.

  “Just a sec, Jim.” Edie examined the blacktop as her brother fretted, then she turned on her heel and together the three of them marched back across the road.

  “Can I go see Mamm’s grave?” Jimmy asked when they were back by the car.

  Edie nodded.

  “Come with me?”

  She hesitated. Kappy didn’t think Jimmy noticed, but she did. Just a fraction of a second. Things between Edie and her mother had been strained at best. Kappy wasn’t sure the last time the two of them spoke. And now Edie was faced with the very hard task of learning to live with past mistakes. Her mother was gone now, and there was no way to make up for lost time.

  Finally, Edie gave a small nod, swallowed hard, and allowed her brother to lead the way.

  Kappy wandered in the opposite direction, allowing them privacy to vis
it with their mother.

  The cemetery was a unique one. The Amish and the Mennonites in the area shared the space, much as they did their farms. Some of the graves dated back decades, while others were just last year. Earlier that year. And earlier this week.

  Kappy stopped and stared down at the small wooden cross that marked the spot where they had laid Sally June Esh to rest. It would be months before the actual headstone was in, but someone in her family must have erected the cross until then.

  Gone too soon was what the Englisch would have carved into her headstone, but as it was, Beloved sister and daughter was all it said. A variety of flowers lay scattered around. Someone had even left a stuffed bear, a panda that somehow looked sad with those black circles around his eyes.

  Kappy couldn’t say she’d known Sally June all that well. But she knew of her and knew what folks who came to buy a kapp said about her. Everything that Kappy could ever remember anyone uttering about Sally June Esh was good. She was a kind person, a good neighbor. Beloved sister and daughter, just as her temporary grave marker proclaimed.

  A sound from the direction of the road drew her attention. Kappy turned, expecting to see other mourners coming to pay their respects. Instead she saw Jack Jones get out of his unmarked police car and push a pair of mirrored sunglasses onto his slightly bent nose.

  She looked back to see if Edie had noticed. She had. Jimmy followed behind her toward the detective.

  Kappy made her way over to the three of them.

  “Pretty day,” Jack commented as she came up beside them.

  “Very.” Edie nodded enthusiastically.

  “Going somewhere?” He gave a pointed look at Edie’s eclectic outfit.

  She wore another pair of those tight stretchy pants but these only reached her knees. Over them she had a flouncy skirt made of insubstantial material like wisps of smoke. She wore another one of those off-the-shoulder shirts that looked as if it had been cut around the neck instead of designed to be worn that way. Her hair was in a ponytail but crooked, sort of off to one side, and her bangle bracelets jangled with every move she made. At least today she wasn’t wearing a pair of those noisy flip-flop shoes, though Kappy wasn’t sure her shocking-pink canvas sneakers were much better.