Amish False Witness Read online

  Amish False Witness

  Ettie Smith Amish Mysteries Book 8

  Samantha Price

  Copyright © 2016 by Samantha Price

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Scripture quotations from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version in the United Kingdom are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crown’s patentee, Cambridge University Press.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Newsletter and free books

  Other books by Samantha Price:

  About Samantha Price

  Chapter 1

  “I have a secret I should’ve shared with someone long ago, but didn’t.”

  Ettie stared at Florence, an older sister she hadn’t seen for a long time, as Florence stood on the doorstep of the house Ettie shared with their eldest sister, Elsa-May. The years had whitened Florence's hair or at least the part of her hair that was seen in front of her prayer kapp. She’d always parted her hair in the middle and pulled it back tightly, wearing her kapp very much to the front of her head.

  “Come in.”

  As Florence stepped into the house, Ettie yelled out for Elsa-May, who came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a hand towel.

  “Florence!” Elsa-May embraced her younger sister.

  “It’s nice to see you both after so long. When was the last time?”

  “You were here for Jeremiah’s wedding.”

  “That’s right, I was.”

  Elsa-May glanced down at the bag in her sister’s hand and asked the question Ettie had been too afraid to ask. “Have you come to stay?”

  “I’ve come to tell you something.”

  “Let’s sit down in the living room,” Ettie said with a light touch on Florence’s elbow.

  Elsa-May’s small fluffy white dog bounded toward Florence.

  “You’ve got a dog?"

  "Jah, this is Snowy. I’m certain I mentioned him in my letters.”

  “You might have.” Florence looked at Ettie. "What happened to Ginger?”

  “He died years ago, Florence.” Her comments proved to Ettie that she never bothered reading any of their letters.

  "I can't remember everything. I'm sorry to hear about that. I know you had him for a very long time."

  "I did indeed."

  "Ettie got me Snowy.”

  "It wasn't me, Elsa-May.” She turned to Florence. “It was our neighbor who brought him over and then Elsa-May fell in love with him. The dog, not our neighbor.”

  Florence giggled.

  Elsa-May explained, "Our neighbor knew someone who worked at the dog shelter and that's how we ended up with Snowy."

  "I'm sure that's all very interesting, but right now could someone make me a cup of kaffe?"

  "Who did you stay with when you came to Jeremiah's wedding?" Elsa-May asked.

  "I stayed with a lovely lady called Rebecca. She owns a bakery in town and lives not far from it.”

  “That’s Ruth,” Ettie said.

  "Jah, that's right. She’s a lovely woman and she had a bed for me."

  Ettie didn't say anything else. There was no point; she was always on the losing end with all of her sisters. It wasn’t easy being the youngest.

  "I would like to stay with the two of you. Is there anything wrong with that?"

  "Not at all. It’s lovely to have you stay with us. It’s just that our house is so small and we don't want to make you uncomfortable," Elsa-May explained.

  "Well, I'm fine with it, so let's not have any more talk about it."

  “I’ll get you that tea, Florence,” Ettie said.

  “Nee. It was kaffe.”

  Minutes later, they were gathered around the kitchen table.

  “Do you remember when I left the community for a time before I was married?” Florence asked them.

  “When you were off gallivanting with that country singer?” Elsa-May asked.

  “Country and Western,” Florence corrected her. “I think they call it that now, I can’t remember what they called it back in the fifties.”

  “Then you left him and came back to us,” Ettie added.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t leave him. He was arrested for murder and I came back to the community.”

  “You were forced to leave him?” Ettie asked trying to recall the blurry details from years ago.

  “Jah. Now his grandson has been arrested for a murder he didn’t commit.”

  “His grandson? Is there something you’re not telling us? Where would he have had time to have a child if he was in prison, unless…? Did you have a child with him?”

  “Of course not! Always the oldest aren’t you, Elsa-May—thinking you have to watch over everyone—thinking the worst? Tsk, tsk.” Florence shook her head.

  “Nee!” Elsa-May said as she leaned back in her chair.

  “Tell us about the grandson. What’s his name?”

  “His name’s Dustin Gandara. I read in the newspaper that he was arrested and I knew he was Morrie’s grandson. He’s only twenty. They pulled him over and said he was driving under the influence, and then they forced him to take a DNA test.”

  “Forced him? Can they do that?”

  “Nee, I don’t think they can, but he probably agreed. Anyway, the DNA is a match to a girl who was murdered six weeks ago on the campus of his college.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying. How can his DNA be a match to a girl?”

  “They found his DNA under the girl’s fingernails.”

  “I see, that makes more sense,” Elsa-May said.

  “And you don’t think he did it?” Ettie asked.

  “Nee, I visited him and he said he didn’t do it. He wasn’t drinking or even speeding and the police pulled him over. What disturbs me is why they pulled him over in the first place. How did they know his DNA was going to be a match?”

  “Maybe they didn’t,” Elsa-May said.

  “He was set up. That’s what he said.”

  “By the police?” Ettie asked.

  “By someone who contacted them—obviously,” Florence said.

  “What does this have to do with the secret you were going on about just now?

  “Morrie gave me a gun. Don’t you see?”

  “Nee!” Ettie and Elsa-May chorused.

  “The gun was found in Dustin’s car and now they’re saying the gun was used in two murders in the last two years. But it couldn’t have been because I had it hidden in my house—up until it burned down around six weeks ago.”

  “That’s dreadful!” Ettie said.

 
“How do you know it’s the same gun?” Elsa-May asked.

  Ettie narrowed her eyes at her oldest sister. “Elsa-May, Florence just said that her house burned down.”

  “I heard, but she’s here in front of us, so I know she escaped unharmed. She was telling us about the gun. I’m intrigued to know more.”

  Florence continued, “Dustin saw it when the police pulled him over and searched the car. They asked him if it was his and he told them he’d never seen it before. He described the gun to me and said it had the letters MW painted in bright yellow and the trigger was painted blue. The gun hadn't been there, in the car, until then. Dustin told me either the police planted it there or someone put it there just before he was pulled over.”

  “The woman was shot? The woman who was found on campus—she was shot with this gun?”

  “Nee, she was strangled, but his DNA was found under her fingernails. He was set up. They burned down my house so I wouldn’t notice the gun was missing. Then they planted the gun in Dustin’s car and got him pulled over on a false accusation that he was speeding.”

  “I thought you said it was for driving under the influence.”

  “That’s right, Ettie, it was. Don’t you see?”

  “Nee, we don’t see anything. It’s all confusing. How do you know that the boy’s not guilty?”

  “He’s a man now and he’s not guilty because they admitted he wasn’t driving under the influence, but by that time they had the gun and his DNA. If he was guilty, he wouldn’t have said yes to the DNA test.”

  Ettie and Elsa-May looked at each other.

  “They tricked him, can’t you see that?” Florence asked.

  “They might have tricked him, but you can’t escape the fact that his DNA was found under the girl’s fingernails. They don’t get things like that wrong.”

  “What about the gun that was taken out of my haus? Then they burned the place down to cover their tracks. It was just the next day that Dustin was arrested. I’m telling you, things aren’t adding up. Don’t you want to know who shot those other two people? I’m telling you it wasn’t Dustin, and the people weren’t shot with Willis Gandara’s gun. They couldn’t have been, because it was in my house.”

  “Who’s Willis Gandara?”

  “Morrie—his manager changed his name to Wylie Morris before he became famous. His real name is Willis Gandara. I only knew him as Wylie Morris and everyone around him called him Morrie, so I’ve always called him Morrie.”

  “That makes sense,” Ettie agreed.

  “I’ve come here so you can help me to help Dustin.”

  “What’s happening with your haus?” Elsa-May asked.

  “Linda and Theodore are arranging for it to be rebuilt. The fire started while I was at the Sunday meeting. They knew I would be out. They had it all arranged.”

  “Who are ‘they’?”

  Florence opened her eyes widely. “Whoever stole the gun.”

  Ettie tugged at the strings of her kapp hoping she’d be able to help her sister, but first, they’d have to figure out if Dustin was innocent.

  “Mary Schwartz told me that the two of you help the police sometimes. I thought you might be able to speak with them and find out what’s really going on.”

  “We know a detective who sometimes asks for our help when there’s any community involvement in a crime.”

  “And your friend, Dustin, isn’t in the community. That could make him reluctant to help us or give us any information,” Elsa-May added.

  “Surely he could help. They burned down my house so they could steal my gun. Wouldn’t the police want to know that?”

  Elsa-May looked at Ettie, and asked, “What do you think? We could ask Detective Kelly a few questions.”

  “I suppose we could.”

  “Oh goodie! Can I come along?” Florence asked.

  “Jah, you’ll have to, but you must let us do most of the talking. He’s a bit gruff sometimes,” Elsa-May explained.

  Ettie’s eyes drifted to Florence’s suitcase. “Where do you plan on staying while you’re here?”

  “Why here, of course.”

  Ettie nibbled on a fingernail. “We only have two bedrooms.”

  “Then I’ll take the couch.”

  Elsa-May said, “We could arrange for you to stay with Jeremiah and Ava, they’ve got plenty of room at their place.”

  “Nee! I won’t stay with someone I don’t know. I’ll stay on the couch here.”

  “You know Jeremiah, my grandson. You came to his wedding not that long ago.”`

  Florence moved from one of the chairs to the couch. “This is nice and comfy.” She stared at the chairs in front of her. “Are they from the old haus?”

  “Jah, they’re Mamm and Dat’s old chairs,” Ettie said.

  Florence laughed. “They should’ve been tossed out years ago.”

  “We like them,” Elsa-May said.

  “Well, you like them, Elsa-May. I kept saying to get rid of them. They’re not very sturdy.”

  “They are now, since Jeremiah fixed them.”

  “Jah, but for how long?” Ettie said.

  “I think they were grossdaddi’s chairs. Antiques are fine and good, but not so much when they’re chairs because they can collapse under people. Anyway, it’s settled, I’ll sleep on the couch unless one of you is prepared to give up your bed for a guest?” Florence looked from one sister to the other.

  “I’ve got a bad back,” Elsa-May said.

  “Have you?” Ettie asked, wondering why she’d never heard of it.

  “It plays up sometimes. I’m not one to complain about things,” Elsa-May added with a twitch of her lips.

  Florence turned her attention to Ettie. “How about you, Ettie? The older sister should have preference.”

  “And I’m the eldest,” Elsa-May was quick to add.

  “That rule shouldn’t apply in my own home. You see, no one ever stays at our place. If someone comes to visit us, we always find a friend close by that they can stay with.”

  “There was that time Jeremiah stayed here, Ettie. Didn’t he sleep in your bed and you slept on the couch?” Elsa-May said.

  Ettie’s jaw dropped open. “That was an extreme situation. That was when we had that kidnapper prowling around trying to take the boppli.”

  Florence frowned. “What boppli?”

  “Someone left him here at our door…”

  “It’s a long story,” Elsa-May said cutting Ettie off. “We’ll tell you about it another time.”

  “You two lead exciting lives by the sounds of it. So, Ettie, you gave up your bed for Elsa-May’s grandson?”

  “Jah, but it was only one time and we…”

  “Then, it’s settled. You can sleep on the couch and since I’m a guest, I’ll sleep in your bed.”

  Ettie’s mouth turned down at the corners. If she insisted on sleeping in her own bed, she’d feel mean and she wasn’t a mean person. “I think you’d be more comfortable staying at Jeremiah’s haus.”

  “He and his wife are newlyweds.” Florence shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable. I’d be under their feet.”

  “And I wouldn’t feel comfortable sleeping on the couch,” Ettie blurted out.

  Florence stared at Ettie. “If I’m not wanted here, I’ll have to go back home. That’s right, I forgot—I don’t have a home.”

  Elsa-May chuckled.

  Florence didn’t stop there. “I thought you’d want to help an innocent person sitting in a jail cell for something he didn’t do.”

  “We are helping you.” Ettie sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Why don’t you both take it in turns? One night Ettie sleeps on the couch and one night you sleep on the couch, Florence. I’d take a turn too, but then there’s my back.” Elsa-May leaned forward slightly to put her hand on her back.

  Florence sighed. “Okay. We'll take turns. Agreed, Ettie? Will that stop your brattish whining?”

  Ettie nodded, not r
eacting to Florence's sniping and not happy about having another older sister in the house to boss her about. One was bad enough.

  Chapter 2

  Ettie approached the officer behind the front desk at the police station. "We’re here to see Detective Kelly. Is he here right now?"

  The officer took a moment to draw his eyes away from the computer in front of him. He looked at Ettie and then looked at each of her two sisters. "All three of you?"

  "Yes, that's right. All of us to see Detective Kelly."

  "Isn't there usually only two of you?"

  "Yes, that's right." Ettie smiled taking a small amount of delight in the officer’s confusion.

  "I'll see if he's free."

  "So he’s here?" Elsa-May asked.

  "I believe he is," he said as he picked up the phone’s receiver.

  When he spoke to Detective Kelly, Ettie turned around and smiled at her sister, Florence.

  Florence leaned in to Ettie. "What do we do now?"

  "He'll see if Detective Kelly is in and then we'll have to wait for him to come out."

  Florence scowled. "How long will we have to wait?"

  "Not long. Sometimes we’ve had to wait more than an hour when he's been busy."

  Florence shook her head. "I don't like waiting."

  "Sometimes we just have to," Elsa-May whispered.

  Florence pouted. "Well, I think it's rude to keep us waiting."

  Elsa-May said, "But he didn't know we were coming. We don't have an appointment."

  "It's not a very efficient service."

  Elsa-May and Ettie glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

  The officer hung up the phone, and said, “He’ll be five minutes. Take a seat." He kept staring at them until Ettie pulled Florence by her sleeve, showing her where to sit.