Murder, Handcrafted (Amish Quilt Shop Mystery) (8 page)

I
stared at Willow as if she had a unicorn horn growing out of her forehead. Seeing how she was talking about believing in Bigfoot, it was possible that she wouldn’t find that thought the least bit strange. “Come again?” I asked.

“Bigfoot! Sasquatch! He’s here. There have been a number of sightings in the county over the years. I saw him myself.”

“When?”

She tapped her chin with her index finger. “I’d say it was about four years ago. It was definitely before you moved here. Remember the old barn that burned down and where the pie factory is now? Well,” she said, warming up to her tall tale, “I was out for a walk one evening. I used to walk to the barn and back to my shop just for a little exercise. I was strolling along and was about to head back to the tea shop when the creature jumped out of a tree on the far side of the barn and ran into the woods. I spun around and ran for my life.”

“Was it an animal, like a raccoon?” I asked.

She dropped her hand and her blouse billowed
around her with the movement. “That would have to be a pretty huge raccoon. It was bigger than a man. I knew it was Bigfoot.”

“What did you do?” I asked, even though I knew by questioning I was only prolonging the conversation.

“I ran home and called Farley right off.” She waited.

I suppressed a sigh and asked, “Then what happened?”

“The sheriff and his deputies came out and checked the scene. They didn’t find anything.”

“Mitchell was there?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes, I insisted that he come himself.”

I frowned. Mitchell hadn’t mentioned there had been other Bigfoot sightings in the county. I knew that Willow wasn’t the most reliable of witnesses, but I was sure Mitchell remembered the incident.

Willow was still talking. “That was the last time Bigfoot was seen in this county until the sightings around your parents’ house this week.” She took a breath. “It was also the last time I walked to that old barn by myself at night.”

“Willow, you can’t really believe that it’s anything more than a guy in a suit. Maybe it was someone playing a joke on you.”

She folded her arms. “Bigfoots have been reported all over Ohio. If I were a Bigfoot, what better place to hide out than in Amish country? There are plenty of dense forests around here. Plenty to eat and plenty of water.”

I couldn’t argue with her that Holmes County would be a good place for a Bigfoot to live if there was such a creature, but there wasn’t. “Do you know
exactly how Farley had heard about the latest sightings? Did he tell you?”

She nodded. “He heard all about it from one of the sheriff’s deputies.”

Anderson. I’d bet my best quilt frame that it was him. I sighed. The deputy wanted so desperately to impress Mitchell, he should know better than to leak information to a township trustee.

I smoothed the dollar bills in my hands. “Did this deputy say he saw the creature with his own eyes?”

“Nooo,” she said slowly. “But he described what Jonah Graber and others on the scene saw.”

She made no mention of my eyewitness account, so I thought it was best to keep the tidbit to myself. “Maybe Jonah and the others didn’t realize what they were seeing. Maybe it’s a bear, or,” I added, “a bobcat.”

She shook her head, and as usual, her purple spiky hair was perfectly still. “There aren’t that many bears around here, and a bobcat isn’t big enough.”

I was tapped out of my Ohio-wildlife knowledge. “All I do know is it wasn’t a Bigfoot.”

Willow shook her head sadly. “In any case, the trustees need to meet to see how to handle this.”

“Handle what?” I still wasn’t following.

Oliver came over and sat at my feet. I appreciated the solidarity. I thought I would need it for whatever Willow had in mind.

“The Bigfoot situation.” She threw up her hands.

“What does this have to do with the township trustees? Whoever or whatever it is is Mitchell’s problem, not the trustees. It’s tied to a murder investigation.”

“You can’t think Bigfoot did it.” She covered her mouth as if in shock.

I sighed. “Since Griffin Bright was electrocuted, no, I don’t think Bigfoot did it.”

“He was?” She moved her hand over her heart.

Briefly, I covered my eyes with my hand. Mitchell would kill me if he knew I let that little tidbit about the case slip to Willow. Even Anderson knew not to let that slip. I lowered my hand. “Please keep the electrocution piece to yourself.”

“Of course.” She nodded solemnly. “But the Bigfoot situation is not a problem at all,” she said excitedly. “In fact, I think it’s a great chance to boost tourism. There are many Bigfoot enthusiasts in the state. We should spread the word that there’s been a sighting.”

“Why?” I asked.

She threw up her hands as if in exasperation again. “So they can come here and search for the Sasquatch, and while they’re at it, they’ll visit the county and spend money in our township’s businesses. Everyone wins.”

I closed the cash drawer and stepped around the counter. I leaned against it. “The sheriff won’t like a bunch of people coming into the county and tramping through the woods when he’s trying to find a killer. I know your intentions are good, Willow, but it could undermine his investigation into who killed Griffin Bright.”

Willow bit her lip. “I hadn’t thought about that,” she said.

“What’s that face for?” I asked suspiciously.

She squinted at me. “I might have already spread the word.”

I covered my eyes with my hand. When I lowered my hand, I found Oliver at my feet doing the same thing. “What do you mean by spread the word?”

Willow had the grace to appear a little bit sheepish. “There is a Bigfoot Ohio group online. I go in there on occasion for updates because I’m a Bigfoot believer.”

Of course she did. “Oh-kay . . .”

“And I posted the sighting information on the group’s message board.” She scrunched up her face as if afraid of what my reaction to that announcement might be.

I felt a headache form right between the eyes. “When you posted on the message board, did you say where the last sighting was?” I had a sinking feeling.

She nodded. “Sure. I gave them the address, so they would know right where to go.”

I gripped the counter for support. “That’s my parents’ house! Are you telling me Bigfoot enthusiasts are en route, en masse, to my parents’ house?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that either.” She placed her heavily ringed finger to her cheek.

“Willow!” I yelped. “What if a bunch of Bigfoot fanatics show up on my mother’s doorstep?”

She was thoughtful. “I can’t see Daphne being happy about that.”

“Neither can I, and in this case, I wouldn’t blame her.”

Willow hurried to the door. “I’ll get online right now and delete the message.”

I groaned. “Hopefully it’s not too late.”

She ran out the door. Oliver and I watched her skip across the street and into the tea shop. This was going to end badly. Of that I was sure.

A
fter Willow disappeared into the tea shop on her important errand, I turned to Oliver, who sat at the front window. “I have a bad feeling about this, Ollie, a really bad feeling.”

He gave me a sympathetic look.

For the moment, I tried to push thoughts of Bigfoot and murder from my mind and concentrate on opening the shop. As the morning went on, a few tourists came and went. When it was quiet, I fielded phone calls from my mother about what was happening at their house. The last I heard, Mitchell and his officers were still there, so was Jonah. Poor Jonah. I couldn’t get what Rachel had revealed to me just that morning out of my head.

At midday, Mattie ran breathlessly into the store. “Angie, I heard about Griffin Bright.” Some of her hair had slipped out of the bun on the back of her head. “I came as soon as I heard the news. Are you all right? Are your parents all right?”

I nodded yes to both of those questions. “Everyone is fine. At least everyone except for Griffin. He will
never be fine again.” My face fell when I thought of the vibrant man I had met the day before.

Mattie shivered. “How horrible. I heard he was electrocuted.”

I nodded. “It was nice of you to come from the pie factory to check on me.”

Her smooth brow knit together. “The factory?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, watching her closely. “Your brother’s pie factory. That’s why you asked for the day off from the shop, so that you can help your brother.” I frowned. After my conversation that morning with Rachel, I hoped that Mattie would tell me what she was up to on her own.

Her face turned a blazing shade of red. “Oh yes, the factory. That’s where I was. I thought I would come here and see if you needed any help.” She wouldn’t look at me. Mattie wasn’t much of a liar.

I was about to ask her where she had really been that morning when an enormous tour bus parked just outside of Running Stitch, and soon we were descended upon by two dozen tourists. That left no time to talk.

After the group left, Mattie grabbed her basket and was out of the door like her skirts were on fire. “Sorry to run, Angie, but I’m needed at the factory.”

“Mattie,” I started, but I was talking to the closed door.

Oliver looked up at me and tilted his head to the right, his ears pointed to the door.

“She’s up to something,” I told him.

Oliver remained silent.

I chewed my lip. It was approaching lunchtime, and
I still hadn’t heard from Jonah about picking up Petunia. The last time my mother called, she said he left over an hour ago. Perhaps he wanted to break the news to Miriam without the goat in tow. Miriam liked Petunia just as much as she liked me.

I wish that Mattie was here, so I could ask her questions about Griffin Bright and his life. Did he work alone? Did he have a business partner? Was he ever married? Did he have children? I knew next to nothing about him. I had done a quick Internet search on his business but came up with nothing. It wasn’t unusual for small businesses in Holmes County, even the English ones, not to have a Web site. Running Stitch hadn’t had one until I took it over. The most common way people learned about services in the county was by word of mouth or an occasional ad in the newspaper.

I called my mother. “Mom?” I said when she picked up on the first ring.

“Angie, thank goodness. The police finally left. James said that Jonah can begin construction on the kitchen tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s good news,” I agreed. “How did you pick Griffin as your electrician?”

“That seems like an odd question,” she said.

“Please just answer it.”

Mom was quiet for a moment as she thought. “Actually, I believe it was the lady at the diner that you go to all the time. Your father and I were there.” She sighed. “You know he likes that greasy food even though the doctor says it’s not good for him. We were talking about plans for the kitchen and the need for a good electrician.
Your friend overheard and suggested Double Bright Electric and said it was a two-brother team.”

“Linda at the Double Dime Diner recommended him?” I asked as if there was another possibility. There wasn’t. The Double Dime was just about the only place I ate out. I went there so often, I was considering notifying the post office it was my new address.

“Yes.”

“You said it was a two-brother team,” I said. “But Griffin was there alone yesterday.”

“I never saw the other brother. When Griffin came to do the estimate, he came alone.”

“What was the brother’s name?”

“Griffin never mentioned it. He said that he could handle the kitchen job himself, so I never asked for his brother’s name,” Mom said, sounding a little miffed.

“That makes sense,” I said, backing off. I told my mother good-bye and ended the call deep in thought. Yesterday, Griffin had been alone when I met him in my mother’s kitchen, but that didn’t mean he had been alone this morning. What if his brother had come with him to help with the job? And what if that brother had killed him? I shivered. I had to learn more about Griffin and his unnamed brother.

I needed to talk to Linda at the diner, the sooner, the better. My stomach rumbled in agreement, giving me another reason to stop by.

If I left that early in the day, I would have to close the shop early. It wasn’t something I usually did, but there was no one there to ask to watch my business. In this case, it was more important to help Jonah than to sell a quilt.

Besides, I had had a good day with that last bus tour earlier. I found myself feeling frustrated at Mattie for taking the day off. Not that she wasn’t entitled to a day off. She deserved it, and she’d said it was to help her family. But was it really? I knew there was something that she was keeping from me, and that didn’t sit well with me.

I went into the backyard to check on Petunia. The goat was snoozing in the shade. She sniffed the air when I stepped outside but didn’t open her eyes. She would be all right for a little while longer.

Back in the shop, I gathered up my ever-present hobo bag and started to remove money from the cash drawer in preparation to close up when the door to Running Stitch opened. I should have locked that first. The last thing I wanted to do was kick a customer out; that would be worse than being closed when she came to the door.

To my relief, the Amish woman who came through the door wasn’t a customer, but Sarah Leham. Sarah was a thin Amish woman who wore wire-rimmed glasses low on her long nose. It made her appear as if she always had a secret or was on the lookout for one, which was an accurate description of her personality.

“Sarah, what are you doing here?” I asked. “I was just about to close up the shop.”

“Close up the shop? Whatever for?” She removed her navy shawl and hung it on one of the wooden pegs along the wall.

“I assume you heard about Griffin Bright,” I said.

“’Course I have. That’s why I’m here. I came as quickly as I could. One of the children stayed home from school ill today or I would have been here sooner.”

“Is she all right?” I asked.

“It’s nothing. Just a little head cold.” She waved away my concern. “She’s up now playing with her toys. Jeremiah can’t work in the field until they dry out some from all the rains, so he’s home keeping an eye on her.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I propped my elbows on the counter.

“It’s good for my husband to take care of the children now and again. It makes him appreciate me more. Besides, he told me to go ahead. He remembers what a help you were to his brother when he was in trouble last year. When I told him that you had to help Jonah with a similar issue, he told me I had to go so you could investigate. You know everyone loves Jonah Graber. There isn’t a person in the county who doesn’t know him and like him.”

Last year, Sarah’s brother-in-law Levi had been a murder suspect when the bishop from his conservative district had been killed. For a moment, I wondered if Sarah knew about Jonah’s history with Kamon and wanting to leave the Amish. I stopped myself from asking her. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with Sarah. It would be halfway around the county by the end of the day if I did. Sarah didn’t need a telephone to spread news. It was quite impressive, actually.

She held up her quilting basket. “I thought that you would have some investigating to do on Jonah’s behalf, so I’m here to mind the store for you.”

I beamed. “Sarah, you’re a godsend. That’s why I was closing. I’m headed to the Double Dime Diner to talk to Linda about Griffin. She was the one who suggested
my mother hire him as the electrician for a kitchen remodel. She might know more about him.”

She smiled. “Great minds think alike. You run along. I’ll take care of the shop, and if you’re not back by closing time, I’ll lock up.”

I hugged her. “Thank you, Sarah.”

“Any word from Anna?” she asked.

I shook my head as I walked back around the counter and returned the money I had removed back to the cash register. “No, I’m sure I’ll hear from her soon.” I couldn’t keep the worry from my voice.

It was odd that I hadn’t heard from Anna about what happened that morning. Usually my aunt’s closest friend was the first to run to my side when I got tangled up in a murder investigation, which seemed to happen to me a fair amount. I tried not to worry what her absence might mean. Maybe Anna was staying close to home to help Miriam deal with all that had happened. Whatever happened to Jonah would ultimately impact the entire family.

If Sarah noticed my concern, she made no comment on it. Instead, she made plans. “The quilting circle needs to meet about all of this. I’ll contact the other ladies while you’re out, and we can plan to meet here after supper. We need to have a meeting as it is. We haven’t worked on the quilt in a week or so. I know my own stitches start to get lazy when I don’t practice.” She pointed at the queen-size Goosefoot quilt tethered to the large quilt frame in the back of the shop.

“That sounds like a great idea, Sarah. I hope everyone can come.” I bit the inside of my lip. Both Mattie
and Anna were acting strangely. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. At least I could depend on Sarah to be consistent in her nosiness.

“One more thing. Petunia is here,” I said.

“Petunia?” Sarah asked.

I nodded. “She’s in the backyard. I just checked on her, and she’s fine. My garden, on the other hand, is doomed.”

She blinked at me. “Petunia’s fine?”

I smiled. “Can you check on her from time to time? And make sure she doesn’t eat my fence.”

Sarah’s eyes doubled in size behind her glasses. “I didn’t sign up to goat-sit.”

I grabbed my hobo bag from the counter and my jacket from the peg on the wall. “She’ll be fine. She’s low maintenance.”

Even to my own ears that last statement rang as false, but Oliver and I were out the door before Sarah had a chance to respond.

Ten minutes later, when I parked my small SUV on the street next to the Holmes County Courthouse, which dominated downtown Millersburg, and glanced across the street to the Double Dime Diner, I knew something was wrong. The inside of the diner was dark. I jumped out of the car and scooped up Oliver. After pausing briefly for a minivan and an Amish buggy to pass, I ran across Jackson Street.

When I hit the curb, I stared at the
CLOSED
sign on the Double Dime Diner’s glass door. The Double Dime was never closed during the day, not even on Christmas. Worry creeped up my back. Something was very, very wrong.