Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

“Really? Did you ever see him?”

“Nah. She was pretty cagey about it. I thought maybe she was just making it up to have someone to brag about, ’cause of Milly getting engaged and showing her ring all over the place.”

“So you think there wasn’t really any secret boyfriend?” The faint hope went glimmering away.

“Well, I thought that at first, but then she showed me…” Kristin stopped, giving Jessica a sidelong look that hinted at more.

“What did she show you, Ms. McGowan?”

“Wasn’t anything that looked that special to me. Just a funny-looking piece of old jewelry. But Cherry insisted it was worth a lot.” Kristin studied her fingernails with a casualness that was a little overdone. “She…um, she gave it to me to keep for her. Said nobody would look here for it.”

“So you have it.”

Kristin dropped the pose and leaned forward. “If it’s important, seems like I ought to get something for it.”

“I won’t know that until I’ve seen it, will I?” This might be a wild-goose chase, but it was the first tangible thing she’d run across, and she couldn’t let it go. “Tell you what. You let me get an expert opinion on it, and if it’s something that is useful to the defense case, I promise a reward. How’s that?”

“If I was to take it to the district attorney…”

“Then all you’d get was his thanks for being a good citizen,” she said crisply. “Seems to me you’re better off dealing with me.”

Kristin stared at her for a moment, as if considering. Then she shrugged, rose and waded through toys to the television cabinet. She reached behind the DVD player and brought out a plastic sandwich bag. Opening it, she shook its contents into her palm. She hesitated and then handed the object to Jessica. “I’m trusting you to play fair.”

“You won’t regret it.” Jessica stared at the object on her palm, and a shiver seemed to curl through her. It was a small tile, probably two inches square, with a hole drilled in it, probably to allow it to be hung from a cord or chain. It looked old, scratched and worn, with the black lines dim and faded.

But she could still make out the design. It was the same as the symbol of that threatening note-the hex sign.

WHAT JESSICA WANTED to do was research the pendant, if that’s what it was. However, Geneva had asked Elizabeth to help her make strawberry jam, giving Jessica a chance for an informal chat. So she headed back to the house.

The powerful scent of fresh strawberries and sugar nearly knocked her over when she entered the kitchen. Geneva, flushed, stood mixing something in a kettle on the stove while Elizabeth cleaned strawberries at the sink with swift, practiced motions.

“Hi. Looks pretty busy in here.” She’d taken the precaution of changing to jeans and a casual shirt. Good thing. Geneva was liberally spattered with pink splotches.

“Come and join us.” Geneva waved a wooden spoon, adding a few more pink drops. “We can use all the help we can get, can’t we, Elizabeth?”

The girl just smiled, apparently used to Geneva. The long sleeves of her dress were pushed back to the elbows, but her blue dress and its matching apron were spotless. With her hair pulled straight back from its center part in a knot under her kapp, she might have been the model for a centuries-old painting.

Jessica approached the sink. “What you’re doing looks a bit safer for someone like me. I’m not much of a cook.”

“You’re a lawyer, ja? You have other things to do.”

Elizabeth hadn’t said more important things. Just other things. Was that a reflection of how the Amish viewed the world?

“How can I help?”

Elizabeth gave her an appraising look, apparently to be sure she was serious. “If you’d like to, you can wash and stem the berries. That way I can get on with mashing them. If you want,” she added.

“Sounds good.” She moved into Elizabeth’s spot. Simple enough. Wash and stem the berries. “They smell wonderful.”

That got her a shy smile from Elizabeth. “My mamm always says if one looks specially gut, go ahead and eat it. They always taste best fresh-picked.”

With some idea of establishing rapport, Jessica picked out a berry and popped it in her mouth. The flavor seemed to explode. “I’ve never tasted better.”

“That’s because the ones you’ve eaten before have been picked days or weeks ago,” Geneva said, beginning to ladle the rich red liquid into jars. “They’re even better picked right from the plant and popped in your mouth still warm from the sun. Ain’t so, Elizabeth?” Geneva used the Amish phrase easily.

“Ja.” Elizabeth wielded what seemed to be an old-fashioned potato masher in a large yellow mixing bowl. “My little brothers picked these this morning, soon as the plants dried off, so they’d be just right for you.”

Jessica didn’t miss the affection in the girl’s voice. Not surprising. She hadn’t met anyone yet who didn’t succumb to Geneva’s warmth. “How many little brothers do you have?”

“Three.” Elizabeth’s face clouded. “And one big brother.” Her hands stilled on the bowl. “Daadi says we must accept that whatever happens is God’s will. But-you will help Thomas, won’t you?”

“I’m doing my best.” She tried to keep her gaze on the berries, so that she wouldn’t put too much emphasis on this and frighten the girl off. “You know, you could help, too, Elizabeth.”

“I could?” There was no doubt about her reaction to that. The sun seemed to come up in Elizabeth’s face. “I would do anything for Thomas, I would.”

“Good. I was sure you’d feel that way. You can answer some questions for me, then.”

“Ja, for sure. If I know the answers,” she added.

Jessica hesitated. But there was no way to ask but directly. “Did you know about Thomas and Cherry Wilson?”

She sensed the girl’s withdrawal. “I don’t think-”

“Elizabeth, please.” She caught Elizabeth’s hand impulsively. “You said you’d do anything to help Thomas. You can tell me. I won’t use it against him.”

“Ach, I know that.” She still looked troubled.

“She won’t say anything to your daadi, either,” Geneva said.

Of course that would be what troubled the girl. She should have seen that.

Elizabeth nodded. “Daadi wouldn’t like it. But Thomas told me that there was an Englisch girl that liked him. He said he met her at a party.”

“What else did he say about her?” Jessica prompted.

A frown settled on Elizabeth’s face. “She was the one who invited him to that party. He told me so. Said she told him to come, and she’d meet him there.”

That was what Jessica’d begun to suspect, but it was good to have it verified. Cherry had been taking the initiative with Thomas. But why? Just out of a malicious wish to embarrass an Amish kid?

“Had she ever done that before?”

“I don’t think so.” Elizabeth began mashing berries again, the juice squirting up between the metal tines. “He hadn’t known her very long. Just met her at a couple parties, and she invited him to the next one.”

Jessica tried to make that add up to something but couldn’t. “Did your brother have many girlfriends?” He certainly didn’t look like a player, but what did she know about Amish teens?

“Ach, no.” Elizabeth grinned at that. “He always got red when a girl even talked to him. I’ll tell you who liked him, though. Peggy Byler.”

“I met Peggy.” And she’d suspected something of the kind. “Were they going together?” Would Elizabeth understand the phrase? “I mean-”

“Ja, I know what it means.” Blue eyes twinkled. “Sometimes I babysit for an Englisch family. They have television.”