Finally, Rachel said, “Did you know that Mr. Vaughn has made offers to a few Amish store owners who have apartments above their stores? He wants to buy the buildings and then rent the stores to the storekeepers.”
“That doesn’t make any sense if they’re living there.”
“It does when the amount Mr. Vaughn is offering is enough to buy a nice property.”
“Has anyone sold to him?”
“Not that I know of. But it could be why his offers are going higher and higher. Someone is bound to sell soon. I guess he’s rich enough to make whatever he wants happen.”
But was Rowan Vaughn rich enough to subsidize his ambition? What if his ambition was much bigger than the stack of bills in his wallet or the amount of money in his checking account? Perhaps Rowan’s finances had something to do with Margaret’s murder.
Chapter Ten
The restaurant in York, Pennsylvania—about twenty minutes from Willow Creek—was a lot fancier than Daisy was used to. Jonas had brought her here for a Saturday night date. They sat across from each other at a table for two with a pristine white tablecloth covering the table. The crystal sparkled under a brass chandelier and the silverware definitely didn’t have any spots. Daisy had just unfolded the black napkin over her lap when the sommelier brought the wine menu.
Jonas asked Daisy, “Would you like to order or should I?”
“One glass would be fine for me.” She wanted him to understand he didn’t have to buy a whole bottle.
“And one glass will be enough for me. Order whatever you want, even champagne. We should celebrate Sammy’s birth, don’t you think?”
She looked up at the sommelier. “Would you recommend the sparkling rosé?”
He did and she nodded. “That will be fine.”
Jonas ordered a cabernet. After the sommelier left, Jonas waved at the menu. “Order whatever you want. I mean it, Daisy. You deserve some pampering tonight.”
After she looked over the prices, her gaze met Jonas’s again. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Filet mignon, lobster, or prime rib. I hear the Chilean sea bass is quite good.”
“Did you sell a lot of furniture this week?”
He chuckled. “Tonight isn’t about the cost. It’s about enjoyment—enjoying the food, the wine, and each other.” His green gaze held the honest light that she appreciated so much.
“All right, the Chilean sea bass it is. And I’ve always wanted to try asparagus risotto. What are you having?”
“The seafood combo—crab cake, scallops, shrimp, filet of haddock. You can try some of mine if you’d like.” His eyebrows wiggled a bit and she laughed. It felt so good to laugh. Violet wasn’t the only one who’d been a bit tense . . . more than a bit.
“I suppose we’re going to make light conversation all evening?” she asked.
“I think light conversation will go better with the wine and the food.”
“It may take me all evening to think of something light.”
He grinned at her, reached across the table, and took her hand. “I know what you have on your mind right now. Portia, Jazzi, and Colton. When you dropped off Jazzi in Allentown last evening, I know your worry about this weekend began.”
“It did,” Daisy said, but didn’t have a chance to add more as the sommelier brought their glasses of wine. They raised their glasses, and when Jonas clinked his against hers, he said, “To Sammy and a life full of every good thing.”
As they sipped their wine, Daisy felt almost giddy and it wasn’t from the alcohol. “I know you said we should have light conversation, but I have a question. If I want to learn more about Margaret’s life in New York, who do you think I should talk to?”
“Somehow I knew this topic would pop up.” He squeezed her hand.
“That’s as light as I can think of right now.”
With a shake of his head, he dramatically sighed.
Jonas was different tonight, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly how. Although to her he always looked rakishly handsome, tonight he was wearing a charcoal suit with a pale gray shirt open at the collar. When she looked at him, she knew the man underneath that attractive exterior was filled with integrity and compassion for others. She’d never been attracted to good looks, but rather to a man whom she could form an emotional bond with. When she’d fallen in love and married Ryan, she’d been impetuous, filled with a penchant for a future with him and eager to learn about marriage and life and independence she might have never felt before. Now she wasn’t impetuous. Now she knew dreams were wisps like smoke, and today was the reality.
“Are you looking forward to seeing Camellia over Thanksgiving?”
“I haven’t spoken with her since Vi’s wedding reception. If she’s bringing along a boyfriend, hopefully she’ll be too occupied with him and fending off Mom’s questions to disapprove of my life.”
“Do you feel that’s what she does?”
“As much as Mom does. It’s that disapproving I-wouldn’t-do-it-that-way syndrome. Ever heard of it?”
“In fact, I have. I think it afflicts most families.”
They both smiled.
“Have you asked Zeke to have a beer and go watch a game?”
“Not yet. The time just hasn’t seemed right. And I know what you’re going to say—that the time might never seem right. But I have to follow my gut on this. If I push him too soon, I think he’ll just become more antagonistic. I don’t want that.”
Jonas studied her pensively and returned to the question she’d asked about following leads. “Why don’t you stop in at the Little Theater for one of the rehearsals. If you just talk to everyone in general, I’m sure you’ll learn more about Margaret. People open up to you. Keisha and Ward might know something that Glenda didn’t know.”
“And Glenda might know a lot more than she told me.”
“Speaking of light conversation,” he said with a bit of humor, “did you start Christmas shopping yet? I think it could be great fun going toy shopping for Sammy.”
Jonas was probably right about that. After that
