Safe Hearts (Amish Safe House, Book 3) (2 page)

“
It’s all an unfortunate
mess,” Beth said. “Hopefully the police will get it all cleared up
soon and poor Jeremiah and Beckie can go back to their normal
lives.”

“
That’s all I hope for,”
Abigail said, smiling.

Kate glanced down at her untouched cup
of tea. She lifted it to her lips and drank. The sweet taste
refreshed her weary mind. “Have they ruled out allergies or things
of that nature?”

Abigail shook her head. “I don’t
believe so. Not officially, at least, but one of the officers told
Beckie that it was unlikely. I guess they found a small container
near the body.”

“
A small container?” Kate
repeated, puzzled.

“
Yes,” Abigail said,
sounding a bit timid all of a sudden. “A small, black pouch. It was
about this big,” she explained, making a circle with her fingers to
show its size.

Kate realized that it was a bit larger
than a quarter, if her depiction was accurate. “What relevance does
that have to the death?” Kate asked, already knowing the answer,
but not wanting either of the women to know that she
did.

Abigail grimaced. “They think it’s
what held the poison or whatever it was that killed
him.”

The words echoed in Kate’s head. She
knew that Jeremiah was completely innocent. There was no way she
could force herself to believe that a hard working Amish man, with,
of course, no criminal history, would commit such a heinous crime.
Something was not right, but she still struggled to put her finger
on what exactly was out of place.

“
I think that this whole
thing is horrible,” Beth said. “What a disappointing way to start
the day.” She frowned and spun her cup of tea.

“
Yes, it certainly is, but
I thank you both so much for welcoming me and offering
counsel.”

“
You’re always welcome to
stop by for some tea and conversation; you know that,” Beth said,
with a wide smile.

Abigail nodded and took one last sip
from her cup. She then stood from her chair and nodded. “If I learn
any new information about what’s going on, I’ll be sure to stop by
again.”

“
Yes, please do,” Kate
replied. “Please send Beckie my prayers, if you see her before
knitting.”

“
Of course,” Abigail said,
as she turned and headed for the exit. Beth waved, but Kate
remained seated, staring into her cup of tea.

“
I’m not sure what to think
of the whole ordeal,” Kate admitted. “I thought it was all over,”
she said under her breath.

“
What was that?” Beth
asked.

“
Oh, I was just saying that
I hope everything blows over. Hopefully the coroner will be able to
clear Jeremiah’s name once and for all.”

“
We can only hope and
pray.” Beth stood up. “I should get back to work,
though.”

Kate frowned and took another sip from
her cup. What was going on? Did a private detective get under the
wrong person’s skin and pay for it with his life, and if so, why
was Jeremiah implicated in his murder?

Genesis
15:1.
After these things the word of
the Lord came to Abram in a vision: “Fear not, Abram, I am your
shield; your reward shall be very great.”

Chapter 2
.

Kate gave up. She surrendered. She was
not a quitter; she had tailed many a case for months on end, before
she was forced to go undercover. But this was hopeless –
hopeless!

Kate had solved more mysteries than
she could even remember. Yet for the life of her, she simply could
not puzzle this out. And to make matters worse, her sworn enemy was
completely undaunted by her efforts to take control of the
situation.

How in the world could something like
knitting be so beyond her? Kate glared at the mass of yarn, as she
tried to untangle her pinkie finger out of the mess. How did she
even get her pinkie near the mess in the first place? Yes, she and
yarn were not friends at all.

She glanced around at the ladies as
they chattered away. They made it look so easy. Even stern, ancient
Esther in the corner could make a flawless set of potholders,
arthritis and all. Kate could not help being irritated with herself
for being the only person in the group who was hopeless at
knitting.

Kate would never have thought that she
would care so much about craft or domestic type things. She had
even thought things like knitting and jam making were too girly to
worry about. She had been too busy protecting her charges from
criminals to worry about things like that. However, after months of
living with a woman who could turn milk into butter and yarn into a
baby dress, she found her skills severely lacking for this place.
It’s was hard not to feel inadequate when your biggest achievement
is not stabbing yourself with your own needles, she
thought.

Kate was starting to suspect that the
ladies had given up trying to improve her knitting skills. They
still encouraged her and insisted that she was
improving.

Kate likely would have given up on
this venture ages ago. It was not like she wanted to become a
domestic diva or anything. It wasn't the knitting that drew her to
the group every week, or the delicious treats they shared. And as
nice as the ladies were, she probably could have lived just fine in
her isolated cottage, until she got that long-awaited call from her
boss saying the mole was caught.

What drew her was their uncanny
ability to collect information. These ladies could make the CIA
hang its head in shame. On at least one several occasion, their
chit chats provided her clues she needed to orchestrate the solving
of a crime, while concealing her real identity at that. It wasn't
easy to solve murders and bust crime rings while playing the part
of an Amish woman with amnesia.

Kate would never have gotten anywhere
on the cases without these ladies, even if there was no way to
thank them for it yet.

“
Isn't it exciting?”
Lillian inspected her stitches with a studious smile. “I’m so happy
for Rose. She found herself a
gut
mann
in Samuel Esh.”

“
I hope they have a long
and happy marriage,” Nancy replied agreeably. “After all the
strangeness recently, it’s wonderful to have something nice to look
forward to.”

Even Maria smiled and nodded. When
Rose's love letter to Samuel was discovered, the ladies of the
community wasted no time giving the two every excuse to run into
one another. There had been dinners and errands, among other
events.

“
We should get a start on
the wedding gifts, perhaps,” Nancy mused. “I wonder what they
need?”

Lillian gave a sly grin. “Baby clothes
for a start.”

“
Oh behave.” Nancy gave the
other woman a light slap of admonishment on the shoulder. “I was
thinking of china.”

“
Yes, that’s a
gut
idea.”

Kate's mind wandered as the ladies
chattered about the things they needed to tell Rose to help her
settle into her new role as a dutiful wife. Kate tried to imagine
herself as a bride in a quiet Amish community, surrounded by people
supporting and advising her. She shook her head. She was touched
and warmed by the scene, but it really wasn't for her.

The sooner they found the mole, the
better. Kate had a special place in her heart for these ladies. She
admired how well they thrived in this way of life. She had even
come to realize how many things in her life she had taken for
granted. Yet the longer she had to lie to these ladies, the heavier
the façade became. The ladies deserved more than a fake Amish woman
blundering through their traditions, and ruining their perfectly
good thread.

Kate’s mind drifted to Ryan. She
replayed the scene by the lake in her mind. Ryan had said he wanted
to have dinner with her as soon as she left the Amish. It was so
easy to imagine herself in slacks and a blouse, chatting with Ryan
about various things, such as a new movie, a case, even something
from the local grape vine. It was easy for her to imagine starting
a future with him.

However, Kate had to face facts. There
was a chance the mole might not be found for years. On top of that,
the invitation had been to Kate, the awkward Amish woman, not Kate
the U.S. Marshal, not Kate, the tech-savvy, crime-solving,
independent woman. Yes, there was something there; she could not
deny that. Yet nothing changed the fact that Ryan was attracted to
an illusion. No matter how sincerely she acted, it was all still
firmly under a mask. And what if Ryan preferred the mask to the
real Kate?

No. She had to resist dwelling on her
fantasies of the ever-dashing town cop. She had to stay put, until
her boss gave her the okay.

“
Kate? Kate?” Lillian waved
a hand in front of Kate's face, and gave her a teasing smile. “You
look like you’re a million miles away.”

Just hundreds of
miles
, Kate thought wistfully. She missed
her life. What’s more, she was sure that the many small mistakes
would eventually start to add up. There would be questions she
could not afford to answer.

“
Is all this talk about
marriage getting to you, dear?” Lillian chimed in. Her eyes lighted
up in sudden inspiration. “Maybe you have someone in mind you
wanted to get to know better?”

A red-faced Kate was rescued by the
sound of a greeting at the door. Everyone's attention focused
immediately on Beckie as she made her way inside, balancing a
basket with jam and biscuits peeking over the top.

“
Sorry I’m late,” Beckie
said, in a brittle voice with a weak smile. Her eyes were red and
puffy from crying. She looked tired, as if she had not slept a wink
since she found out about her cousin. There were even a few stray
hairs curling from under her bonnet that she normally would not
have allowed.

“
Oh Beckie, you poor dear,”
Lillian gushed as she jumped up to hug Beckie around her neck. A
more prudent Nancy quickly took the heavy basket.

“
How is your family holding
up?” Lillian fussed over Beckie as she nudged Lillian out of the
way and helped Beckie toward a chair. “We didn't think you would
come, with everything happening.”

“
I needed to get away from
the house a while.” Beckie blinked her eyes rapidly as her eyes
glistened with still unshed tears. “It's really bad, ladies; I
don't know what we are going to do. My cousin. He-”

She burst into tears as she covered
her face. The ladies went immediately to her aid with
encouragements and promises to help in any way they could. It never
ceased to amaze Kate how quickly the Amish rallied around each
other without question. It was something she was very much going to
miss when she returned to her own life.

Kate felt guilty. She did not know
quite what to do in these situations. In a professional sense, yes,
but less so as an Amish woman. She didn't have their connections or
skills to help and console one of their own. Kate was a loss for
words, so she helped Nancy clear the room and got Beckie a cup of
water.

“
They think Jeremiah
poisoned the man,” Beckie sniffled, as she dabbed her eyes with a
handkerchief.

“
Where would they get a
fool idea like that?” Esther demanded, as she slid her chair out of
the corner to join the rest of the ladies, hobbling along until
Lillian rushed over to take her chair for her. “Jeremiah is
a
gut mann
. No one
has ever doubted him before.”

“
Tell us everything that
happened, dear.” Nancy patted Beckie's hand in comfort. “From the
beginning.”

Beckie took a deep breath and dabbed
at her nose. “Jeremiah went to the café early to get ready for some
sort of special they were going to have that day. A new coffee I
think. I don't usually pay attention to his work-talk; I just know
it was important to him.”

“
Of course,” Lillian said
soothingly.

“
He found the back door
unlocked,” Beckie continued. “He is sure it was locked the night
before. He suspected a burglar, so he went and checked it
out.”

Kate wanted to jump in and demand why
he would do something so foolish. People are supposed to call the
cops in that situation, rather than run headlong into a situation.
She had seen all too many tragedies occur when people did not call
the authorities to handle possible danger.

“
When he made it inside, he
found the man dead on the floor, and before he had a chance to call
the police they raced in and arrested him. They think he did
it.”

“
Rubbish.” Esther sniffed
derisively. “That sort of ignorance seems to be getting more common
nowadays. Back in my day, no one would have dared accuse an
Amish
mann
of such
a thing.”

Everyone nodded. Kate wondered if she
would have come to the same conclusion before being stuck here.
She'd had many myths and assumptions debunked in her time
here.

“
What happened then?”
Lillian asked in a polite tone, although her voice was strained
with impatience.