Hidden (Amish Romance Mystery) (Amish Secret Widows' Society Book 2) Read online

  The detective walked around the living room and Emma followed him. As he circled one of the couches, he said, “It looks as though someone was looking for something, wouldn’t you think? Someone’s done a thorough search for something.”

  “Can I go now, detective? I’ll have Wil call one of Frank’s sons and I’m sure they’ll take care of things.”

  As she walked toward the door, the detective said, “Mrs. Kurtzler, have you forgotten something?”

  Emma spun around to face the detective. “No, I don’t think I have.”

  Detective Crowley looked down at the cat that was purring around his legs.

  “Oh dear, the cat.”

  “Looks like it was the old man’s cat. Why don’t you take it home, Mrs. Kurtzler?”

  “I can’t have a cat. I’ve got enough animals to look after.” She stared at the large tabby; he had stopped purring around the detective’s legs and was staring at her, as was the detective. “I’ve never liked cats. Besides he’ll likely chase all the birds that come into my garden.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll call animal welfare and have it put down.”

  “No, you can’t do that.” The cat looked at her as if it knew exactly what the detective had said. Emma felt guilty and sighed. “All right. I’ll take the cat.” Emma crouched down. “Come on, kitty.” The cat slowly walked toward her and did not object when Emma picked him up and tucked him under her arm. “Oh, he’s such a heavy cat.”

  “Yes. It doesn’t look like he’s gone without too many meals.”

  “Well, goodbye, Detective.”

  “As usual, Mrs. Kurtzler, I will need to ask you some questions; don’t leave town.”

  Emma headed to her buggy, glad to get away from the detective. She put the cat in the seat next to her, half hoping that he would jump out and run away. She’d had dogs before, but never a cat. Despite her hopes, the gray cat curled into a ball and immediately fell asleep. He looked so peaceful and cuddly that Emma felt bad for hoping he’d run away.

  When she pulled up in front of Wil’s haus, he came out to meet her.

  “Wil, it’s Frank.”

  “What’s happened, Emma? You look as white as a sheet.” Wil put his hands on Emma’s shoulders to steady her.

  “Frank has died. The police think that he’s been killed. I found him on the kitchen floor and then waited for the ambulance to come. He had no pulse.”

  Wil’s face was blank. “Is he dead?”

  “Murdered, killed, jah, dead.” Emma collapsed into his arms.

  Wil held Emma tightly for a moment, before he said, “I should have gone. I never should have sent you.”

  “I offered to go. There shouldn’t have been any harm in going. You weren’t to know.” Emma gave a couple of sniffs. “That horrible detective was there too.”

  “Crowley?”

  Emma pulled her head back from Wil’s shoulder. “That’s the one. He said that from the look of the place that someone was searching for something.”

  Wil shook his entire body. “I’m having trouble taking it all in. Come and sit inside and tell me everything from the start.”

  Wil led Emma into his haus. She sat down and told him exactly what had happened, from start to finish.

  “I’ll have to find the phone numbers of his sons,” Wil said.

  “I thought you’d have their numbers.”

  “I think I do. Jah, I’m sure that I do.”

  Emma’s hand flew to her forehead. “Oh, I forgot I’ve got Frank’s cat.”

  “Ach, gut; Frank loved Growler. Where is he?”

  “Asleep in the buggy. He was asleep when I left the buggy anyway.” Emma looked out the window at the buggy and could not see a cat walking around anywhere.

  “He’s not a barn cat, Emma. You’ll have to keep the cat in the haus. His name is Growler.”

  Emma pulled a face. “Growler? I suppose I can keep him in the haus just until one of Frank’s sons come and get him.”

  “Jah, I’m sure one of them would love to take him.”

  Emma knew nothing of Frank’s two sons, except that neither of them had stayed in the community. Both boys decided on the Englisch lifestyle many years ago. With Frank in his early eighties the boys would be in their fifties, Emma guessed.

  As she usually did when she got home, Emma unhitched the buggy and tended to the horse. All the while Growler stayed in the buggy until Emma picked him up and carried him into the haus. Once inside, Growler jumped out of her arms, walked around the living room then sprung onto the couch, curled up and went back to sleep.

  “You know how to look after yourself,” Emma murmured to Growler. Emma put a couple of old saucers at the back door for his food and filled up a bowl with water.

  Later that night Wil called in to Emma’s haus to check on her. “You feeling better now?”

  “Jah, denke. Have you had dinner?” Emma knew that Wil wasn’t much of a cook and did not look after himself as he should.

  “Have you?” Wil asked.

  “I’ve just finished and I was in the middle of washing the dishes. Come into the kitchen.” Emma continued to wash the dishes while Wil sat at the kitchen table. “Have you called Frank’s sons yet?”

  “Jah, Clive is out of the country and Andrew is coming tomorrow.”

  “Gut. What do you know about them?” Emma asked.

  “Nothing. I remember them from years ago, but only vaguely. Frank just gave me their phone numbers in case anything should happen to him.”

  “Was Frank expecting something to happen to him?”

  “Nee, but he was old, that’s all he meant. Even though his sons left, he still spoke to them. Well, from what he said, they hadn’t visited him in five years, but he did get the occasional letter from them.”

  Emma nodded at what Wil said; she knew that many Amish parents had no contact with their kinner when they chose to leave the community, but it sounded as though it was the boys who did not keep in contact with Frank.

  Wil said, “Why don’t you come to Frank’s haus tomorrow to meet Andrew?”

  “I could, I guess. I’ll ask if he can take Growler.”

  “Where is Growler?”

  Emma looked around. “He was asleep on the couch last time I saw him.” Emma looked by the back door to see that all the food had disappeared from the saucer. “Well, he’s eaten.” She pointed to the saucer. “That was full of food. I did leave the door open for a little while before, just in case he wanted to go out for a while. He might still be out there.”

  Wil jumped to his feet. “Emma, he might have run away.”

  “I have no litter tray. I had to let him out.”

  Wil went outside through the back door. “Here, Growler. Here kitty, kitty.”

  Emma followed him. “It’s a little dark to see.”

  “Frank loved that cat,” Wil said.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” Emma bit her lip and wished she’d taken better care of him.

  After ten minutes of looking for him, they gave up. It was too dark to see too far.

  “Hopefully, he’ll be back in the morning,” Emma said.

  “Jah, I hope so. Night, Emma. Sweet dreams,” Wil stepped in close to her.

  “Night, Wil.”

  “It will be lovely when we can be together so I can cuddle you all night,” Wil said as he put his arms around Emma’s waist and pulled her to him.

  Emma loved to feel his arms around her; she breathed in his masculine scent then giggled and pulled away. “Go on with you,” she said with a laugh in her voice.

  Wil walked down the road to his haus.

  After Wil left, Emma felt a little better. It wasn’t every day that she discovered a dead body and she was still a little shaken. There was also the unknown element of whether Frank died of natural causes or whether he was killed. She would hate to think that someone might have deliberately killed poor, old Frank.

  Emma made sure that she locked and bolted the back door and the fr
ont door after what happened to old Frank. Emma re-boiled the kettle and made herself a chamomile tea hoping that it would help her sleep. She took the lamp up the stairs in one hand and her hot tea in the other ready for an early night. When she walked through her bedroom door, she saw Growler asleep in the middle of her bed. She hadn’t even thought to look inside the haus for him. Emma laughed. “Make yourself comfortable, Growler.”

  Emma pushed Growler over to one side and thought it funny that he totally ignored her. Emma slipped under the covers, propped herself up with pillows and sipped her hot tea. She did want to share her bed once more with someone, but had hoped it would be with a mann, not a cat.

  As she closed her eyes, Emma hoped that the widows would help her find out how Frank died.

  Chapter 3.

  Now faith is the substance of things hoped for,

  the evidence of things not seen.

  Hebrews 11:1

  As they walked from the buggy to the haus, Emma noticed that one of the neighbors was peeking through their window at them. Emma knew it was Thomas Graber.

  Emma whispered to Wil, “Do you see Thomas Graber staring at us through the window?”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised. Frank and he never saw eye to eye on anything and recently they had quite an argument over a large fence that Thomas wanted to put up. Frank said that it would block the sunlight on his vegetables.”

  Emma looked at the messy front garden. “It’s odd that the garden in the front is neglected and he spent all his time in the vegetable garden out the back.”

  “He loved his vegetables.”

  Wil and Emma waited in the haus and before too long a red sports car zoomed to a halt in front of the haus.

  Andrew looked much like Frank except a younger version. He was tall and wide just like his daed had been. He had a younger woman with him and Emma wondered if she was Andrew’s dochder.

  “Nice to see you again, Wil,” Andrew’s voice boomed. He turned to Emma. “And who do we have here? I don’t remember you and I’m sure I’d remember such a pretty face.”

  Emma smiled and wondered if Andrew was a salesman of some kind; he certainly knew how to compliment and flatter people. “Hello, I’m Emma. We’ve never met; I wasn’t in the community when you were.”

  “Did you convert?” Andrew asked.

  “Nee, I’ve always been Amish, but not from around these parts.” Emma smiled at the girl on Frank’s arm as she spoke.

  “Oh, forgive my manners. This is my girlfriend, Lacey.”

  Emma noticed that Lacey was quite a fancy woman. She had shiny red lips, long red nails and her dress was way above her knees. Emma glanced at Lacey’s four-inch heels and wondered how anyone could possibly walk in shoes that high.

  Emma nodded hello to Lacey.

  “Pleased to meet you, Lacey,” Wil said before he turned back to Andrew. “I would have hoped we would meet again under different circumstances. Let’s talk inside the haus.”

  Andrew stepped inside the haus and turned about in a circle. “What a mess; apart from the mess, nothing has changed. Wil, how much do you think the haus would be worth? I’m not sure what the value would be.”

  “I don’t know. Would you sell it or rent it?”

  “I think Clive and I would want to sell. I’ve only spoken to him briefly; he’s still overseas, but he’ll back home in a week. I told him there’s no need to rush home.”

  Emma was taken aback that the first questions Clive had were about the value of the haus rather than about how his daed died, but then again, he could have already talked to the police.

  Wil lowered his head and asked, “Do you want us to delay the funeral ‘til he gets here?”

  “Wil, can you handle all that stuff, the funeral? Clive and I aren’t Amish anymore and most likely won’t even go to the funeral. If the community is happy to look after things, that would be good.”

  Wil remained silent. Emma knew that Wil was struggling with judgment. Surely, they would want to be certain that Frank would be buried in the same Amish cemetery where Sally was buried, the one that they shared with the Mennonites. And why would they not attend their own daed’s funeral?

  “We’ll cover the expenses, out of dad’s estate. I’ll have to go to the bank to see about his money. I’m guessing he had a stash of money since he sold the farm and bought this place after mum died. He would’ve had quite a sum left over.”

  “I’d say so. Well, if Clive and you don’t want to be involved in the funeral, would you mind if we hold the service at my haus? The body is always in the haus for viewing and my haus is much bigger than this one. There’ll be a fair crowd.”

  “Do whatever you want. Clive and I will have someone get the house ready for sale at some stage– clean it up and that sort of thing. Did dad have anything else of value?”

  Lacey took a small step forward. “Like any antiques or jewelry?”

  Wil laughed. “Lacey, Amish have no need of jewelry and if something is antique, it would have been something passed down through Frank’s familye.” Wil motioned with his hand toward the furniture in the living room. “Look around and see if you think the furniture is antique.”

  Lacey walked around the room looking at the odd pieces of furniture scattered here and there. Lacey spun around to Andrew and said, “I don’t care for any of it.”

  “It’s not our style, Wil. I suppose it can be sold with the house. I’d dare say Clive wouldn’t be interested in any of it either. It’s basically junk.”

  Emma could not stop her eyebrows from rising. Lacey was far too interested in something that was hardly her business since she was only Andrew’s girlfriend and not his fraa. Emma knew that Wil too would have been taken aback by Andrew and Lacey’s manner. Andrew seemed to have no thought or care for his own father’s funeral. “I’m looking after your daed’s cat, Growler. Would you like him? I hear your daed was very fond of him.”

  Andrew held up a chubby hand and shook his head vehemently. “I don’t want animals.”

  Emma looked to Lacey hoping she would say that she’d take the cat.

  “I’m allergic to cat hair,” Lacey said.

  Of course, she would be allergic to cat hair, but not allergic to makeup, perfume, hair dye, acrylic nails and money, Emma thought before she could stop herself.

  “So, Wil, anything else of value apart from this old house here?” Andrew asked.

  Wil took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair, “He sold all the farm equipment at the same auction he sold the farm in. He sold the horses and the buggies. So that’s it.”

  Andrew shook his head as if he was disappointed. Emma knew that Wil had to bite his tongue. Andrew seemed more concerned about the value of everything rather than the fact that neither he nor his bruder had visited their daed in the five years before he died.

  Andrew took a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped the sweat off his forehead. “Are you aware of any safe-deposit boxes my father had then? I’m sure he mentioned to me when I was a child that he had something special for us boys in a safe-deposit box.”

  Wil scratched his chin. “He told me nothing of the kind. Anyway, Andrew, Emma and I are very sorry for your loss.”

  Andrew nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I suppose the police have spoken to you about it all?” Emma asked.

  “Yes, they think that he was startled by an intruder then fell and hit his head.”

  Emma raised her eyebrows once more. “Is that what they think?”

  “Well, the place was trashed. I guess if there was anything of value here, it’s well and truly gone by now,” Andrew said then looked at Lacey who pouted her shiny, red lips.

  “Wil, do you mind if I leave you in charge of letting a realtor through to look at the place, seeing that you live so close by and all?”

  “Of course, Andrew.”

  “I’ll have a realtor contact you in a week or two, or how ever long everything takes. I’ve never inherited anything before; I’m sure th
ere will be probate and the property will have to be changed into our names before we sell.”

  Wil said, “I’m not sure how it works either; sorry I can’t help you with that one.”

  “I’ll be in touch then, thank you, Wil, Emma.” Andrew and Lacey walked back to their red sports car.

  * * *

  The next night Emma met the widows at their regular gathering. They were a close-knit group that consisted of the two elderly sisters, Elsa-May and Ettie. Elsa-May was a large-busted, solidly built lady with a big dominating personality to go with it, whereas her schweschder was small and fine boned and a little timid, but no less shrewd. Also at their regular meetings were Silvie and Maureen, younger widows, only a little older than Emma.

  As usual at their secret meetings there was a lot of food. There were chocolate fudge bars, chocolate brownies, cheesecake and cup cakes. Emma looked forward to the regular widows’ meetings that they held, but she did not like the hard wooden chairs in the living room. Ettie and Elsa-May did not have a couch or a sofa; the two old ladies did not seem to miss having a couch one little bit. Emma wondered whether they had been brought up to sit on hard chairs and that’s why they thought nothing of it - they had never known anything else. Emma knew that the younger widows found it uncomfortable as much as she by the way they kept moving and shifting in their seats.

  “They’re not releasing the body,” Elsa-May said before she bit into a chocolate chip cookie.

  “Frank’s body?” Emma felt silly for asking such a thing as soon as she said it; there was no other ‘body’ in the community of which they would be speaking.

  “Jah. The bishop told me that he organized for the funeral director to pick up the body, but they aren’t releasing it.”

  Emma knew that Elsa-May was very gut friends with the bishop and his fraa, and regularly went to visit them.

  Ettie leaned forward. “Obviously, they suspect foul play.”

  “Who would kill harmless old Frank?” Silvie slid forward slightly.

  “I’m sure they’ll find that it’s all a mistake in a couple of days,” Maureen said.