Drizzle of Death Read online

  “Hello,” I said, trying to hide my curiosity. I set the cheesecake on the table and searched in my purse for my wallet. I was a little embarrassed when I pulled it out, with its broken snap closure flapping open.

  “Eight dollars, please,” said the knitter.

  The second girl’s eyes locked on to mine for a moment, and her lips trembled. Then her gaze cut back to the pants in her hands.

  Something about that look grabbed my heart. “Are you okay?” I asked her gently.

  The knitter frowned at her friend as she took my cash. Quickly, she counted out the change and handed it back to me. I deposited the bills into the mill donation box, hesitating to leave until the girl answered me.

  The young girl slowly stood up. Her gaze caught mine again, and she waved me to follow.

  “Mary….” The knitter’s eyes tightened as she stared at her friend.

  The young girl ignored her friend and headed toward the back of the store.

  “Mary, I’m not covering for you,” the knitter warned.

  The girl glanced back to see if I was following her. She waved again, just two fingers that slightly moved. But the expression on her face showed it was urgent.

  At this point, I hadn’t even agreed to follow. But something in her eyes set my feet in motion. I picked up the cheesecake pan and went after her.

  The black-bonneted teen led me all the way through the store, not looking back again.

  Where was she taking me?

  Chapter 2

  The stairway she led me to was at the furthest point from the store’s open doors. I was curious, but also felt a few prickles of apprehension dance along my neck as I followed her. It wasn’t often that the Amish would have private discussions with people outside of their community. I’d certainly never had any before.

  The young girl moved around a stack of empty wood boxes and into an alcove behind the stairway. She beckoned me inside the nook and then turned, her hands brushing down her dark skirt as she studied the path we had just come from. Satisfied, she glanced at me, making brief eye contact before dropping her gaze to the floor.

  “My name is Georgie,” I began. “How can I help you?”

  “I heard you talking earlier.” Her voice was soft and I had to lean in closer to listen. “I’ve seen you here before. You seem to have an understanding of our ways. You do history tours, right?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, wondering where the girl was going.

  “Sometimes,” she hesitated, and her tongue dotted her top lip. Then she straightened her spine and continued. “Sometimes things occur that should probably involve others who are not of our community. But at the same time, we should never seek outsiders out.”

  I nodded again, even more confused than before.

  She glanced back into the store, and I was disturbed to see her face pale. I could see her swallowing hard, and when she looked back at me, her eyes were huge and dark. “But maybe it’s possible to ask an outsider for help, secretively? And that person might be able to give an oath to listen and not tell anyone?”

  Alarm shot through me. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “No, no. No one hurt me.” She gave a tight smile, her gaze still darting back into the store, keeping track of anyone who might be approaching. She reached toward my sleeve as if to pull me in deeper behind the stairwell but stopped short just before touching me. “You must realize that even by talking with you, I risk being shunned. But I’m desperate.” Her eyes magnified as they filled with tears. How old was this girl? Seeing her hands twisting the corner of her apron, she now looked to be only ten or twelve.

  Her bottom lip quivered and I promptly decided. “I’ll help you however I can.”

  “You will keep it a secret?”

  I knew she wouldn’t say more unless I agreed. I nodded, hoping it was a promise I could really keep.

  Relief caused her cheeks to flush. “It’s my friend, Jacob. He had a fight with some outsiders in a field a few days ago. They said that it was just a misunderstanding and he spooked at nothing but…” She sighed and her hand fluttered to her chest.

  “Who’s they? And what do you think happened?”

  She peeked around the corner again, the cords standing out in her neck in anxiety. Seeing nothing, she leaned back to whisper, “The Elders. Jacob’s been known to have issues. He got himself into trouble during his Rumspringa. He met an English woman during that time.”

  I knew the term, Rumspringa. It was the season the Amish had their young adults experience the real world before choosing the Amish lifestyle permanently.

  Mary tucked a wisp of hair back into her bonnet. “My uncle found him in town and had a few stern words with him. It was then that Jacob decided to end his Rumspringa and the English to return to our town. I thought he would be doing better.” Her bottom lip trembled. “But he’s had an accident. He’s fallen.”

  “Fallen?” I glanced to see if he were nearby. “Where is he, now?”

  “Mary!” A male voice called over my shoulder, making me jump. “Why are you neglecting your duties?”

  Mary paled and seemed to shrink to half her size as her shoulders bowled in. I peered around the boxes to see a man towering over the top of me by over a foot. Now I am only five-foot-two, so that’s not saying much. But the man’s girth was nearly two of me as well, covered with a black broadcloth held shut with a leather belt. His busy eyebrows shadowed tiny, beetle-like eyes that shifted away from me as if I were inconsequential.

  Mary darted around me and back into the store, her boots scarcely making a sound on the wooden boards.

  The man exhaled loudly and his nose flared. Positioning his hat more firmly on his head, he turned and followed her without another look in my direction.

  What was that about?

  I stood there, clutching my cheesecake, wondering what in the world just happened. Shaking my head, I followed them as well.

  Back in the noise and bustle of the main store, I spotted the blue sweatshirts of the Stevens’. They were still puttering around, with Mrs. Stevens holding a quilt and talking animatedly with her husband. Mr. Stevens rolled his eyes but his hand rubbed the base of her back, showing a deep love.

  I looked for Mary at the checkout and was disappointed to see she hadn’t returned there. Where had the girl run off to? I surveyed the store for the intimidating man, but he seemed to have disappeared as well.

  Very strange.

  I walked to the front door, feeling kind of lost. Quickly, I brought the cheesecake out to the van and then headed back inside to search for the girl. There were black bonnets, and a few white ones, scattered among the aisles but none proved to be Mary.

  I meandered to the rear of the store, where a breeze came through the opened back door and ruffled some aprons that were displayed on a wooden rack. I walked to the doorway and stared at the field freshly plowed under.

  The air was clean and cool, and I stepped outside into the sunshine. Suddenly, my skin tingled like I was being watched. I almost felt like I was about to get into trouble, and didn’t dare glance back, afraid to see someone about to sound the alarm.

  I’m not doing anything wrong, just getting a breath of fresh air.

  Squinting in the bright light, I walked along the side of the building so no one could see me. From behind me were the happy voices of the customers, but it was quiet out here, other than the call of birds.

  Footsteps from my left caught my attention. It was Mary, racing for the wheelhouse. She disappeared into the old building.

  I watched the door shut behind her and then went after her. After that weird conversation, I needed some answers.

  The sun beat against my back as I hurried along the path. A grasshopper sprang out in front of me, startling me. He was out early this year.

  The wheelhouse was dark with age and heavy with the smell of mulchy earth. Cautiously, I approached and pushed the door open, wincing as it let out a creak.

  Two small windows allowed sunbeams to dimly
light the room. The glass panes were not nearly as old as the building and must have been recently updated. Along the back wall was a fireplace made of smooth rock. Black soot streaked the top of the mantle.

  I blinked a few times, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the muted light. Mary was nowhere in sight. A board squealed under my foot, and I froze. There was no way I was going in further.

  Swallowing hard, I called out. My voice cracked. “Hello? Everything okay in here?”

  “Oh, thank the Lord!” Mary shouted. “Please, come down here!”

  I turned toward her voice and spotted a set of stairs. She was somewhere down there. “Mary? What’s going on?”

  “It’s Jacob.” The girl’s voice was high with worry.

  Gripping the handrail, I walked down the stairs, my mouth dropping open as I passed a boot on one of the treads. It was a man’s boot, sitting on its side with laces untied. Drops of dark liquid marred the wood surface.

  My muscles tensed. At the bottom was a young man with his face partially covered by one arm. Mary knelt by his side.

  “What happened?” I clattered down the rest of the way.

  “This is what I was trying to get help for. No one will help him because he’s drunk.”

  The boy’s breathing was slow and shallow. Alarm zipped along my spine. “He needs a doctor immediately.”

  “I tried. Elder Yoder said to leave him. That Jacob needed to learn a lesson.” She patted the young man’s face. “Jacob! Can you hear me?”

  The boy didn’t respond. An enormous lump stood out on his forehead.

  “He could have a concussion,” I said. “He might have a brain injury.”

  “Jacob!” the girl sobbed.

  “Can we go around Elder Yoder’s rule? Maybe get a friend of his? Anyone else?”

  She looked at me, her large eyes fringed with wet lashes. “To go against the elder risks getting shunned. No one will do it.”

  I watched the young man struggle to breathe and reached for my cell phone. “I can get help.”

  She saw my phone and jumped to grab my arm. “No! Don’t! You risk my whole family!”

  I hesitated. “What about his mom? Can you get her?

  The girl nodded. “I’ll find her right now. Promise you won’t call?”

  I gritted my teeth and nodded. She flew up the stairs. As the door banged open, I let out a sigh.

  Looking down at the young man, a wave of sorrow washed over me. The poor kid. He looked to be a late teen or in his very early twenties. His hair was cut in a different style than the other Amish men I’d seen at Sunny Acres. I studied his outstretched arm and paused. There was a tan line on his wrist. One that would have been made by a watch band.

  I examined him a little more, noting the knot on his head, and then glanced at the stairs. It wasn’t an open wound. So where had the blood come from? And how had his boot come off? I sniffed hard, noting the lack of the scent of alcohol.

  Something wasn’t right.

  Gently, I tipped his head so that his chin pointed up, trying to ease his breathing. I juggled my cell phone, unsure of what to do. Should I really wait to call for help? I decided to give her a few minutes and then I would call, no matter what she said. In the meanwhile, I snapped a few pictures in case the police would need them. First of how his body lay on the floor, then of his bare foot, then the few drops of blood on the stairs, and finally of the boot.

  The door swung open, making me jump. A man was there, the same man who had cornered Mary and me at the stairs.

  “English!” he yelled, before turning to spurt off something I couldn’t understand. One hand was in his pocket, but the other had hold of Mary’s arm. He pulled her into view. Her face was frozen in terror, and she quickly waved a hand at me.

  “Please come up,” she said. “We will take care of it from here.”

  I froze at the hostility in the man’s eyes. He shouted a command I couldn’t understand but it prompted me to scurry up the stairs. He barely took a step back to allow me to pass him. His hair dripped from sweat, and the salty scent rolled off of him. He glared at me, his lip curled in disgust, before yelling at Mary again. She squeezed small and passed me to hurry down the stairs to Jacob.

  “You go, now,” the man commanded.

  “What about the boy? He needs a doctor,” I asked.

  “We take care of our own.” With every word, he used his bulk to edge me toward the door. I back-pedaled over the threshold.

  “Mary said no one was helping. That someone wanted him to learn his lesson,” I said. “He may have a brain injury.”

  “We take care of our own,” he growled again. With one more parting stare at me, he slammed the door.

  I stood on the stoop, feeling bewildered. What do I do, now? Just act as though everything was fine? Call the police?

  I decided to text Frank. He was a deputy with the Gainesville police. The gravel crunched under my shoes as I walked back to the Sunny Acres store. The young knitter glanced up from her project as I walked by.

  The Stevens were walking toward the check-out stand as I approached. The quilt draped over Mrs. Steven’s arm, and she smiled like she’d just won a huge battle.

  “You guys ready?” I asked, feeling anxious. I wiped sweaty hands on my pants and glanced around for the ogre of a man.

  They nodded and went to pay for the quilt. I pulled out my phone to text Frank.

  Frank’s and my relationship had changed a lot through the years, from when we use to tease each other mercilessly, to our last summer in high school where we volunteered to work with the city’s homeless. At the end of that summer, we’d both moved away—me to city where I became engaged to Derek, and Frank to the army. Eventually, Frank returned home after receiving a medical discharge for an injury that occurred in Afghanistan. His vehicle had run over the top of an IED, and to this day, he carried shrapnel in his chest.

  I returned the year after he did, numb and broken myself from Derek’s death, having literally watched my fiancé’s car fly down an embankment. I can’t describe the horror of standing at the top of the road, screaming his name. Trying to call his cell phone, call the police, chained in helplessness while his car billowed black smoke.

  The fire marshal had ruled it a suicide, which I never believed. Derek had been more content than I’d ever seen him. The only thing that had been on his mind was his new job.

  But nothing I said could sway the verdict. And so, after the funeral, I came back to the only home I knew. Cecelia had taken me in, and Frank along with her.

  The thought of Frank made me shake my head. As much as he was a curmudgeon, he also had an awful sweet side. He sure tried to keep it hidden but—bit by bit—I’d dug it out. I have to admit, he was more comforting than I ever dared to admit. He really was a rock to lean on, despite his grouchy side.

  And I was needing some support right about now.

  I quickly texted. —Frank. I have a hurt kid and no one wants to help.

  He wrote back.—You try 911?

  Like I said. Full of compassion. I rolled my eyes before typing, —It’s complicated. They don’t want help. Can you come to Sunny Acres?

  His response,—He’s a kid?

  Come on. Come on. Quit giving me a hard time and just drive. I bit my lip and furiously typed. — Don’t know for sure given that he’s unconscious. But I pretty much got kicked off the property. Now get over here.

  I thought about it for a second and added, —please.

  He sent back a grumpy face. An actual grumpy face. While I was trying to interpret what that meant, a second text came in. —On my way.

  “We’re ready!” Mrs. Stevens said, showing up nearly at my elbow. I jumped since I hadn’t noticed her approaching. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” she apologized.

  I smiled and lifted my phone. “I was totally focused in this text. Bad habit, I guess.”

  She answered airily, “Well, that’s not something I’ve ever been that interested in. We
usually just call when we need someone.”

  I nodded. “You ready to get in the van?”

  Both her and her husband walked across the parking lot to Old Bella. I threw up another Hail Mary, hoping the van would start and followed after them.

  I was about half-way into the driver’s seat when I saw Mary again.

  “Hang on just a sec,” I said to the Stevens. “I’ll be right back.”

  By the time I climbed back out, the girl was disappearing around the building. My stomach sank. I was going to lose her again.

  Chapter 3

  Leaving the door to the van open, I sprinted across the parking lot, desperate to catch up with the Amish girl.

  “Mary!” I called. My voice sounded unnaturally loud and I cringed at the attention it gathered.

  She turned at the sound of her name. Her eyes were red from crying. She wiped the back of her hand under her nose and waited for me to reach her.

  I ran up, suddenly was at a loss for words. What was I going to say?

  “How’s Jacob?” I settled on, lamely.

  “He’s…he’s going to be fine.” Her eyes were glassy as she gave the pronouncement.

  I was stunned. “Fine? Are you sure?”

  She sniffed and nodded her head. “He was talking when I left.”

  Words spun around in my head like the letters in a boiling pot of alphabet soup. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, her bottom lip trembling. “Yes. The doctor and Elder Yoder are with him. Elder Yoder will make sure everything is okay. He wants nothing to sully the Amish name.”

  Sully the Amish name? “Okay…” I nodded, feeling confused. “Uh, If there’s anything I can do…” I stopped, helpless. What could I do to help her? Give her my phone number? She couldn’t use it to get hold of me. My offer to help was just a useless gesture.