Her Amish Protectors Page 11

  “He’s actually color-blind,” the woman whispered. “I do avoid red and certain shades of pink, because they look gray to him.”

  Which meant a goodly number of flowers must look gray. How odd that would be.

  Nadia had hoped the woman was serious, and she proved to be when she chose two quilts, one full-size for a guest bedroom and a queen-size for their own room. The smaller of the two was a marvelous Texas Star quilt in soft shades, the queen-size an Irish Chain done in navy blue against a white background. When his wife showed him that one, the man blinked a few times.

  “I thought quilts were all fussy.”

  “Using only two fabrics is actually quite common,” Nadia said. Beaming, Hannah wrapped both while Nadia happily rang up the purchase. Having learned the couple was, appropriately enough, from Texas, she dropped a card in the bag, mentioning that most quilts in the shop were pictured on her website and available for purchase online.

  Carrying her tote bag, Lucy appeared from the back room shortly after the couple left. She looked in surprise at Hannah and Nadia. “What happened?”

  Nadia knew she was still grinning. “A huge sale.” Her percent would stave off bankruptcy for a month. Or let her keep Hannah on longer.

  Lucy’s gaze went to the blank place on the wall. “The Star quilt!”

  “Yes, and a second one from the bed.” A lacy, white-painted iron bedstead held twenty quilts or more, rotated so that each had turns being on top. And now another could go on the wall instead.

  Lucy waited until Hannah went to collect a couple of bolts of fabric from the cutting table to return them to their place to repeat her apology.

  “Ben was a butthead,” she concluded.

  Suspecting she ought to demur, Nadia said, “Yes, he was. But he’s convinced I stole money raised for charity, so I guess it’s no surprise he’d rather you didn’t hang around with me.”

  “He didn’t sound to me like he does think that,” Lucy protested.

  “He brought a CSI team in to search my building top to bottom on Monday.” Her chest still tightened at the memory. “They went through my underwear drawer, turned over my sofa and chairs, poked through my medicine cabinet and lifted the toilet lid in case I’d taped the bag of money under there. Forgive me for thinking that denotes suspicion.”

  Lucy made a face. “He says he had to do it, if only for appearances.”

  “Appearances.” Nadia had never laughed with so little humor. “He could have lowered the window blinds so passersby couldn’t see what was going on. He didn’t. If you’d been a customer here, how would that search appear to you?”

  Lucy hesitated then admitted, “Not good.”

  “Except for your purchase, I’ve hardly sold a thing all week. The store is empty for hours on end. Most people who signed up for classes aren’t attending. Today’s was the best I’ve had, and that’s probably because the women are mostly beginners who weren’t involved in the auction. The couple who just bought two quilts were tourists. They didn’t know they’d stepped into a den of iniquity.”

  “Aren’t most of the quilts sold to tourists?”

  “Yes, but I need the fabric store to make a profit, too. Quilt sales are occasional, not steady. And—” She shook her head, aware of Hannah now listening. “No, that’s enough whining.”

  “Tell me.” Lucy’s expression was fierce.

  Oh, what difference did it make? “I’ve had three quilt makers stop by to pick up ones they’d consigned for sale. They’re all locals. If more follow their example and quit trusting me with their quilts, I’m done.”

  Hannah had been quietly listening. Now she said, “The Leit will keep bringing their quilts here. I haven’t heard any bad talk about you.”

  Nadia smiled shakily at her, aware the Amish called themselves the Leit—the people. “That’s good to hear. Speaking of... I won’t be able to get the cash until Monday, but will you be able to drop it off at Emma Troyer’s? And...maybe she has another quilt ready for sale?”

  “Ja, for certain sure! So glad, she’ll be.”

  Nadia smiled, hating the poison of bitterness she’d let leak out. “And I’ll call Jennifer Bronske right now.”

  She told Lucy she was welcome to come in and use a sewing machine any time the room wasn’t otherwise occupied, after which Ben’s sister left. Nadia thought they could become friends if Lucy wasn’t in town only temporarily...and if Ben wasn’t so opposed to it.

  Hannah turned the sign to Closed and locked the front door while Nadia dialed Jennifer’s number. When Jennifer answered, Nadia said, “I hope I didn’t call when you’re in the middle of dinner preparations, but I wanted to let you know that your beautiful Texas Star quilt sold. I can mail a check to you or—”

  “I prefer cash,” the other woman said with noticeable coolness.

  Because her checks were certain to bounce? Nadia choked back what she really wanted to say. She couldn’t afford to burn bridges.

  “That’s fine.” She managed what sounded to her like a pleasant voice. “Obviously, I won’t be able to get to the bank until Monday morning. If you want to come by and pick the money up, any time after I open would be fine.”

  “I’ll be there.” Then she was gone.

  Would she bring another quilt to be sold? Doubtful. Nadia wanted to think it would be a cold day in hell before she’d accept it if Jennifer did offer another one, but as long as she was trying to stay in business here in Byrum she’d have to keep swallowing her pride. But, oh, she hated doing it.

  Hannah suddenly said, “Jacob is here, I must go,” and let herself out the front. Indeed, a horse and buggy had stopped at the curb. Jacob and their father, Roy Yoder, owned the cabinetmaking business down the block. Hannah had sometimes helped them in the showroom, which was why she’d immediately noticed when Nadia opened the fabric store again. She waved out the window and thought Jacob lifted a hand in return. He seemed like a good man, as did his father who always had a twinkle in his eyes. Jacob had his own place, but his wife had died from a separated placenta during a third pregnancy, leaving him a widower with two young children now cared for by his mother and younger sisters during the day.

  Nadia had turned out the lights when she saw Ben passing the front window. A moment later, he knocked on the door. Nadia froze where she was, at the end of a row of fabric. He scanned the dim interior but apparently didn’t see her. When he pulled out his phone and bent his head, she ducked, even though she felt foolish. Hide and seek.

  Her phone, left beside the cash register, rang. If he could hear it, he’d know she was still downstairs somewhere. Did it matter? She couldn’t take one more apology from him. Really, she should walk over, grab her phone and keep going without even turning her head to look at him.

  Since that wasn’t in her nature, Nadia stayed where she was until a peek told her he had given up.

  Trudging upstairs, she tried to recapture her delight at how well the class had gone followed by the sale of two—count ’em, two—quilts, but couldn’t quite pull off the trick. Thank you, Ben and Jennifer.

  * * *

  NADIA WASN’T ANSWERING her phone.

  Thanks to his sister, Ben was currently leaning on a shovel in his front yard, filthy and wiping sweat off his brow. Lucy had decided to take on clearing a couple of flower beds, one in his front yard, one in back. Both were choked with weeds, but some stubborn roses and perennials were still hanging on and blooming, if sparsely. Instead of being able to take advantage of his day off to sit around reading in the air-conditioned house, he’d had to pretend enthusiasm to join her laboring out in the hot sun.

  He’d insisted on doing the heavy digging on the bed in the front yard. All the while, he kept an eye on his phone, sitting on the railing so he didn’t miss a call. He would have kept it close no matter what, of course, since he needed to be
available to his officers 24/7. Them, he’d rather not hear from on a day off. What he had hoped for was a return call from Nadia once she calmed down and listened to his message.

  Using the hem of his ratty T-shirt, he wiped sweat out of his eyes and spared a scowl in the general direction of the phone.

  “Are you waiting to hear from someone?” his sister asked. Still on her knees holding a trowel in one of her gloved hands, she had paused to look at him.

  “Your nose is pink,” he said. “You know the sweat is washing off the suntan lotion.”

  She snorted. “You don’t really think Nadia will call, do you? After you were such an ass?”

  He turned the scowl on her. “I didn’t mean what I said the way she took it.”

  “Really?” She tipped her head to scrutinize him over the top of her sunglasses. “You ordered me out of the store. Because your delicate, innocent sister needed to stay away.” She pretended to ponder. “I think that was it.”

  “I didn’t imply—”

  “Sure you did.” She looked distinctly unfriendly, considering he was her beloved brother. “You hit two targets with one shot. She’s inappropriate company for me, and I’m too fragile to... I’m not sure. Resist the temptation if she tries to recruit me to join her in a criminal spree?”

  He growled a word he didn’t use around her—okay, he did think of her as somewhat fragile—and snapped, “I told you about the cherry bomb tossed through her window. You saying that wouldn’t scare the shit out of you?”

  “No more than it would anyone else,” Lucy said hotly. “I have...particular issues. That doesn’t mean I’ll faint if I happen to be around when someone is nasty to her.” She paused. “Which is fortunate, given that you were downright vicious.”

  “I wasn’t.” The protest came automatically even though he still winced at the memory of Nadia’s face when he said what he had.

  His sister only stared unrevealingly at him through the lenses of those dark glasses, then bent her head and went back to work ripping out weeds and dropping them in the rusting bucket he had found in the shed that also held the temperamental lawn mower the former owner had left for his use. He might have been better employed mowing today than clearing a flower bed he would now feel compelled to keep weeded.

  When his phone rang, Ben took his time stretching before he reached for it even though he doubted he was fooling Lucy. Nadia’s name did not show on the screen. Instead, the caller was Danny Carroll, the officer he intended to promote as soon as he could make other shifts in the department.

  “Danny?”

  “Chief? I know you’re off today—actually, I am, too—but I heard something I thought would interest you. If you’re busy...”

  “Doing yard work. Nothing I mind being interrupted.”

  The other officer chuckled. “I know what you mean. Well, this probably isn’t anything big, but the Neeleys live about a block from me. I know Carol was involved with the auction committee, and Ron helped with setup. I guess some carpentry know-how was needed.”

  “I talked to her,” Ben agreed.

  “Well, my next-door neighbor mentioned that the Neeleys are going on a ten-day Alaskan cruise in July. And that Ron is talking about buying a boat. Something he can use for fishing and maybe even water-skiing. Last time I talked to him, he was complaining about how slow construction has been, and how he didn’t like having his wife work but Carol was looking for a job to help out.”

  “Could she have found a good one?”

  “She was talking about cashiering at a convenience store or at the Hy-Vee if she was real lucky. That’s not the kind of work that pays for luxuries.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Ben agreed. He couldn’t quite picture the woman he’d met conspiring to steal money raised for charity...but someone had. “I’ll talk to Ron. I won’t mention you.”

  “Thanks. We have a friendly neighborhood. You know how it is.”

  “I do.” Ben thanked him and put his phone on the railing.

  Naturally, Lucy had been eavesdropping and he had to explain to her. She encouraged him to shower and go talk to the man now. “You don’t know how awful this has been for Nadia.”

  She was wrong; he had a good idea. Which motivated him to take one of the quickest showers on record and head out the door.

  The Neeleys lived in a modest rambler. It was Carol who came to the door, obviously surprised to see him on her doorstep.

  “Just thought I could catch your husband at home on a Sunday,” Ben said easily. “Is he here?”

  “You bet.” A pleasantly rounded, middle-aged woman wearing a lot of pink, she led him into the living room, where two recliners faced the TV. When she called, “Ron, Chief Slater is here to see you,” a man appeared from the kitchen. A good foot taller than his wife and rail thin, Ron Neeley was losing his hair.

  Ben didn’t see even a hint of wariness on either face. He took a seat at one end of the sofa and waited until both had perched on their respective recliners.

  “I imagine Carol told you the kinds of questions I was asking,” he began.

  Shaking his head with apparent regret, Ron said, “I don’t think I can help you at all. I put together some racks first thing that Friday morning, then came back to help dismantle the sales tables and set up for the auction. I didn’t even stay for it. Carol drove herself so I didn’t have to go back for her.”

  “I suppose you’ve heard all the talk.”

  It was Carol who answered. “Yes, but we’ve been distracted. In fact, we were away for the two weeks before the auction. I don’t remember if I told you that. I felt guilty not being here to help, but it’s been a crazy past few months. My mother passed away in May, so Ron and I have been going back and forth to Springfield ever since, clearing out her house. Ron kept it in good shape for her.” She smiled at her husband. “It sold right away, thank goodness.”

  Ben said the conventional, “I’m sorry for your loss,” and knew this visit was another dead end.

  “Oh, I’ll miss her, but we were starting to talk about nursing homes, and Mom would have hated that, so...”

  They mentioned the Alaskan cruise and how excited they were. As soon as he reasonably could, Ben stood and said, “I don’t see any need to bother you any more on a Sunday. I’m getting a little desperate here, so I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss talking to anyone involved with the auction.”

  They both accompanied him to the door, Carol shaking her head over such wickedness but also telling him she worried about Nadia. “Such a hard worker, and with a kind word for everyone. I’ve been meaning to stop by the store to tell her I don’t believe any of those people bad-mouthing her, but with so little time to quilt, I haven’t needed to shop for fabric.”

  Her husband gave her a sidelong look. “As if you ever need to, with a closet stuffed full of fabric you haven’t used.”

  Ben left them still amiably arguing about the issue. They were such nice people, he was ashamed to be disappointed that they hadn’t turned out to be crooks.

  Although it wouldn’t hurt to do a little research, make sure he hadn’t just been conned, he decided.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SUNDAY WAS COMPLETELY UNEVENTFUL. Nadia wished she could think of it as peaceful, but truthfully she felt more as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t once go downstairs. A couple times, she looked to be sure the chair was still wedged in place. If somebody broke in to her shop or vandalized the exterior, they did it quietly.

  Monday morning, dread crawled through her even before she opened her eyes. The days of being excited about her new business and the auction were gone.

  Don’t want to get up.

  Maybe from now on she should keep the shop closed on Sundays and Mondays.

  Something to think about, but right now the sign
promised she’d be open, so she needed to get moving if she didn’t want to alienate any of her remaining customers. Plus, she needed to dash to the bank for the money she owed Jennifer and still be back before ten.

  Thinking about the bank during the five-block walk, Nadia became aggrieved anew that her financial information had been handed to the police. Okay, the bank manager might have been legally required to cooperate, but he could have called to let her know about the warrant. Wasn’t she owed something as a customer? Byrum did have branches from two different banks, so she could move her money. Although, why bother, when the chance was so good that she wouldn’t be staying?

  As many buggies passed as cars. At least half the downtown businesses were either Amish owned or employed Amish workers. Small paddocks and sheds off the alleys were shared to shelter the horses during the day.

  Barely over a week ago, Nadia would have enjoyed the walk. Today, she was grateful to see so few pedestrians this early in the morning.

  Her business at the bank didn’t take long. The teller divided the cash she needed between two envelopes, one for each of the quilters. Seeing increased foot traffic as soon as she stepped out of the bank, Nadia walked fast, purposefully, on the return trip.

  When she came abreast of the Amish Custom Cabinet Shop, though, Jacob Yoder stepped out. “Gute mariye.”

  Smiling politely, she said, “Good morning to you, too.” Had he been watching so he could waylay her? They’d never had a real conversation before. It was possible, she decided, that he was concerned she’d have to let his sister go.

  Solidly built and around her own age, Jacob wore a blue shirt with the customary black pants and suspenders. The straw hat shaded his face. His chestnut-colored beard signaled that he was—or, in his case, had been—married. Only unmarried Amish men shaved their jaws. It had taken Nadia a little while to get used to seeing bearded men with clean-shaven upper lips.