“Why Mary Rose?” Mary Aaron knitted her brows. “She’d have the most to lose, wouldn’t she?”
“I don’t really think she’s a suspect, but I’m getting desperate here. If Moses didn’t do it, someone did.”
“And Rosh?”
“I think he has a serious crush on Mary Rose. He watches her all the time. That’s how he knew the police were there that day that they arrested Moses. Who knows what he thought? He’s a strange kid.” She shrugged. “Maybe he thought if Daniel was out of the way, he could marry her.”
“Sounds far-fetched.”
“You think I should take his name off the board?” Rachel picked up the black felt eraser.
“No, leave him there. We know from the past that nothing is as far-fetched as the truth.” Mary Aaron, still seated on the bed, nodded at the board. “And the Englisher? You said he was nice. You still think he might have shot Daniel?”
Rachel stared at the board. “Truthfully? No. It’s beginning to look more and more as though Moses really did do it. But why? An accidental shooting is one thing. But Evan said he was shot twice, consecutive shots. Why shoot Daniel a second time? That doesn’t fit with Moses’s personality. I just can’t see him committing a violent act like that. The whole confession is just so . . . dramatic . . . like something you’d see in a movie. What if he’s trying to protect his sister?” She pointed to Mary Rose’s name.
“If what you suspect is true,” Mary Aaron pointed out, “that Daniel may have been beating her, that’s motive.”
Rachel set the eraser back on the table. “I don’t want that to be the answer. Maybe it’s easier to think that Chuck could have killed him. He was a soldier. And we know he’s taken human lives before. That would make solving this easier, don’t you think?”
“Do you want easy or do you want to find out what really happened? Maybe you should add Lemuel to that list. Joe said that Daniel hurt him that day. Maybe he was angry and confronted Daniel. Maybe—”
Rachel shook her head. “Lemuel is hardly more than a child.”
Mary Aaron sighed. “So we’re back where we started. We don’t really have anything, either to help Moses or to hurt him.”
“I don’t know; I might be onto something with the idea that Daniel was abusive. I had the feeling that Salome knew more than she was willing to tell me.”
Mary Aaron retrieved Bishop’s favorite cat toy from the bed and tossed it in front of the cat. The big Siamese yawned and stretched out his front paws, disdaining to chase the feathered mouse. “You got the message I left for you on the bulletin board by the computer, didn’t you? Bella said you were supposed to come down and make your final choices for flowers for the wedding, but you didn’t come in.”
Rachel grimaced and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “That was when I was at the midwife’s place. I completely forgot my appointment with Bella. It would be a lot simpler if this were an Amish wedding. Why do they make it so complicated? I just want to get married.”
“Simple?” Mary Aaron chuckled. “Your mother would invite two hundred of her closest friends and relatives and we’d be making bushels of creamed celery.”
Rachel’s smile was wry. “We’ll probably have close to that many guests. And, thankfully, Mam and your mother are in charge of the food. That’s another thing. Evan’s mother expects canapés and she’s still complaining that there will be no champagne. She wanted us to have one of those multitiered cakes with a little bride and groom on the top. I tried to explain to her that we have a table full of cakes baked by our guests, but she doesn’t get it.”
“Will you have to have Thanksgiving dinner with her tomorrow?”
Rachel nodded. “We’re taking her out to a restaurant. Apparently, it’s a family tradition. It’s been the two of them since his father died, and she’s not much of a cook.”
“A restaurant?” Mary Aaron looked dubious. “Will they have turkey?”
“Of course. With all the trimmings.”
“But it will be a store-bought turkey, not one his mother raised and cooked.”
Rachel laughed. “I cannot picture my future mother-in-law ever plucking and cooking a turkey. Next year, I’ll do the cooking, and I’m sure Ada will find me one raised by one of her daughters or granddaughters.” She crossed to the small refrigerator. “Hungry? I’ve got sandwiches and a big salad.”
“Mmm, sounds good.”
“Is your family fasting again on Thanksgiving?” Rachel asked. Her own parents and most of the Old Order Amish she knew would spend the day in quiet prayer. There wouldn’t be worship services, but instead of roast turkey and all the side dishes there would be bread and cheese and some simple fruit such as apples. Thanksgiving was not to be a day of celebrating but one of contemplation, Bible reading, and personal communion with God.
“Ya,” Mary Aaron replied. “I told Mam that I’d be there, so long as you don’t need me here at Stone Mill House.”
“You go. We have only two rooms occupied, and I’ve invited Mrs. Morris to join us for dinner. The Wiggens family is going to a friend’s house in Belleville. I’m not sure if Mrs. Morris will feel up to it, but if she does come, Evan’s mother will be on her best behavior and the afternoon will go a lot smoother.”
“I hope she’s easier after you and Evan are married,” Mary Aaron said as she unwrapped a roast beef sandwich. “This smells delicious.”
“I put that spicy mustard on it that you like,” Rachel said. “I think she will be. She has been a really good mother to Evan. I think she’s just afraid that she’ll be alone after we’re married . . . that he won’t be there for her. I told her that will never happen. We may have to rub off a few burrs on
