Just Plain Murder (An Amish Mystery) - Softcover

Bradford, Laura

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0440000408 ISBN 13: 9780440000402

Publisher: Berkley, 2018

Synopsis

Claire Weatherly and her beau, police detective Jakob Fisher, learn that when it comes to murder, evil can hide in plain sight in this all-new addition to the national bestselling Amish Mysteries.

Jakob and Claire have been enjoying more time together in lovely Heavenly, PA. With Claire's help, the detective is making slow progress reconnecting with the members of his Amish family who shunned him when he left to pursue a career in law enforcement. Jakob's mentor, Russ Granger, the long-retired police chief who inspired him to become a cop, is back in town. Claire has always wanted to meet the man who changed the course of Jakob's life. But not long after he arrives in Heavenly, Russ is murdered.

Jakob can only imagine that his old friend must have been killed by someone outside of the Amish community. He and Claire soon find that things are not as they seem--and that Russ may have stumbled into something sinister before he was killed. The answers they uncover are closer to home and more shocking than they ever expected.

About this title

About the Author:

While spending a rainy afternoon at a friend's house as a child, Laura Bradford fell in love with writing over a stack of blank paper, a box of crayons, and a freshly sharpened number-two pencil. From that moment forward, she never wanted to do or be anything else. Today, Laura is the national bestselling author of the Amish Mysteries, including A Churn for the Worse and Suspendered Sentence. She is also the author of the Emergency Desert Squad Mysteries, and, as Elizabeth Lynn Casey, she wrote the Southern Sewing Circle Mysteries.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

***This excerpt is from an advance uncorrected copy proof***

Copyright © 2018 Laura Bradford

 

Chapter One

She was on the porch when he drove up, the sight of his car, followed by his full-face smile as he spotted her, eliciting a dreamy sigh she was pretty sure hadn’t come from her own mouth. A glance at the wicker chair to her right simply confirmed that observation.

“I heard that, you know.” Claire Weatherly smoothed her hand over the simple late-summer dress she’d almost forgotten she owned and abandoned the porch swing. “And while I probably should say something about you being every bit as incorrigible as Grandma ever was, I’m just going to say I feel exactly the same way when I see him. Times a hundred.”

Diane Weatherly stilled her knitting needles. “I wasn’t looking at Detective Fisher, dear.”

Claire darted her own attention back to the parking lot just long enough to confirm Jakob had exited his car but was still just out of earshot. “You weren’t?”

“No. I was looking at you, dear.” Tucking her needles into the multicolored ball of yarn wedged between her knees, the sixty-two-year-old woman tilted her head down just enough to afford an uninhibited view of Claire across the top of her reading glasses. “One day, when you have a child of your own, you’ll understand.”

“That’s mighty cryptic, Aunt Diane.”

“It’s just the best defense I can offer.” Diane’s thinning lips twitched with a grin just before her eyes led Claire’s back to the handsome man now no more than three strides away from the porch steps. “Now, go give him a proper greeting so I can sigh in peace.”

Claire tried to nibble back a laugh but it was no use. Instead, she closed the gap between them, kissed the top of her aunt’s head, and then turned back toward the steps as a still-smiling Jakob reached the top. “You look mighty happy this morning. Is it from seeing me or knowing that she”—Claire hooked her thumb at first Diane and then the waiting picnic basket on the floor beneath the swing—“can’t help but toss in a few extra goodies earmarked especially for you?”

“That depends. What are these extra goodies of which you speak?” Then, pulling her toward him before her answering gasp could gain much momentum, he stemmed the rest with a sweet kiss. “Mmmm . . . You taste good.”

Bracing her hand against his chest, she stepped back just enough to ensure a front-row view of the dimple sighting she knew was near. “That’s because those extra goodies that were supposed to be for you were really, really, really delicious . . .”

“Claire!”

“What?” She peeked back at her aunt. “Don’t tell me he didn’t have that coming.”

“I did have that coming . . .” Jakob stepped around Claire, greeted Diane with a kiss on the cheek, and then claimed a spot on the porch swing. “That said, you were kidding, right?”

She joined him on the floral cushion. “I was if you were.”

“Phew . . .” He rested his right arm along the back of the swing and found the perfect amount of sway with a practiced foot. “So, Diane . . . Guess who called me last night to say he’s back in town for a few days?”

“Who?”

“Russ Granger.”

A quick clap hijacked Claire’s attention back to the wicker chair and the woman whose smile rivaled the late-September sun. “Oh, Jakob, that’s wonderful! I bet Callie and the children are positively thrilled!”

“Callie Davidson?” At her aunt’s nod, Claire moved on, tidbits of information she’d managed to glean during her past eighteen-plus months in Heavenly falling into place a piece at a time. “That’s the redhead that lives over by the playground, isn’t it? The one with the three little towheads that couldn’t be any cuter if they tried?”

Diane nodded. “That’s right. And Russ is her father. He retired down to Florida close to ten years ago after—”

“Serving as chief of the Heavenly Police Department,” Claire finished as she turned her focus back on her swing mate. “Oh, Jakob, no wonder you were smiling like that when you walked up! Your mentor is back in town!”

He nuzzled his chin against the side of her head and then leaned back to look out over the same fields that had served as a backdrop for his Amish childhood. “Trust me, Claire, that smile was all about you. Still, I’m pretty excited to see Russ again, too. It’s been a long time. He wanted me to come out and meet him at Murphy’s on Route 65 when he called, but I was already in bed and I didn’t want to take a chance of missing my alarm when it went off this morning.”

“We could have rescheduled our picnic!” Claire protested. “Especially for something like seeing an old friend.”

“I know that. But I didn’t want to reschedule.”

“Do you two keep in touch on the phone?” Diane asked as she transferred the yarn from her lap to the small table at her elbow.

“We try. And sometimes we go through spurts where we do pretty well with that. But more often than not, I’m busy, he’s busy . . . You know how it is.”

Hiking her calf onto the swing, Claire turned so her back was flush against the armrest and her view was of Jakob and her aunt. “Isn’t Russ retired?”

“On paper, yes. But once a cop, always a cop.”

“Meaning?” she prodded.

“Russ has police work in his blood. Which means he got himself hired on at the station in his new town inside the first month of being down there.”

“But not as a chief,” Diane interjected.

Jakob nodded. “Right. Not as a chief. According to him, he fiddles around at the front desk. Said it kept his finger on the pulse and him out of Amelia’s hair.”

“I take it Amelia is his wife?” At Diane’s slow nod and downtrodden expression, Claire sighed. “And I take it she’s since passed?”

“She did. About five years ago, I believe.” At Diane’s nod, Jakob continued. “He retreated for a while after that. Didn’t return my calls, didn’t acknowledge the notes I sent, et cetera. But eventually he got his feet back under him and he’d send me an occasional text to see how I was doing. When I told him I was considering coming back here if I could get a job, he pulled some strings and, well, here I am.”

“Remind me to thank him.” Claire rested her cheek against his hand, watching him as he appeared to drift away in thought. After a few moments of silence, though, he caught her looking at him and smiled. “So?” she asked. “When and where are you going to get to meet up with him again?”

“Tonight. At Heavenly Brews. Eight o’clock. And I’m kind of hoping you’ll be with me when I do.”

She drew back, surprised. “But you haven’t seen him in what? Two years, at least?”

“Actually, it’s been almost eight.”

“Then you don’t need me tagging along, Jakob,” she protested. “Go. Spend time with him. Talk cop stuff, tell him all the great things you’ve done since you’ve been here in Heavenly—the cases you’ve solved. You can introduce us a different day, before he heads back home.”

“I want him to meet you now, Claire. Besides, there’s nothing Russ and I need to talk about that we can’t talk about with you sitting at the table, too.” Toeing the swing to a stop, he pushed his fingers through his sandy blond hair and laughed. “I’m telling you, Russ is quite a character. He sees everything and forgets nothing. It’s one of the reasons he made a heckuva cop and chief.”

She waited for his hand to return to his lap and then captured it inside her own. “So what you’re telling me is he’ll probably have some cute stories to share about you from your Rumspringa days?”

“Oh, no doubt. Stories I’ve long forgotten but he hasn’t, I’m quite sure. Some that go back even before my Rumspringa, too.”

“Before? But how? You weren’t able to hang around the station until you were on Rumspringa, right?”

“True. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t intrigued by men in uniform before that . . . And Russ being Russ noticed, of course. He made sure to wave whenever he caught me peeking out at him from the back of Dat’s buggy on the way through town.” Jakob turned his hand inside hers so they could intertwine their fingers and then nudged his chin toward the Amish countryside in the distance. “Some of my fascination was simply because they looked different. I saw English from the back of Dat’s buggy often, but police officers? Not so much. But it wasn’t just about the uniforms and the shiny things hanging off them. It was the way they held themselves, the way they’d get down to eye level with English children we’d pass in town, and the way the English children looked back at them—like they were something special, something to be respected.

I remember this time, when I was no more than six, maybe seven, and we were coming back from a horse auction or something. Dat was driving, of course, and I was sitting in the back of the buggy with Martha. We were heading down Lighted Way, which was nothing like it is today in terms of the number of stores. Anyway, this guy comes running out of a shop. And by running, I mean running. Anyway, a few seconds later, the shopkeeper comes out and starts yelling that this guy stole something from his store. Russ, who must have been sitting by an open window in the station house or something, comes running out, takes no more than a split second to get his bearings, and takes off after this guy. Before Dat’s horse had all four feet on the gravelly part of the road just past what is now Yoder’s Furniture, Russ had this guy on the ground with his hands behind his back.” Jakob slid his gaze back to Claire’s. “I . . . I don’t think I can ever explain just how taken I was with that—how in awe I was of Russ and the entire police profession even though I wasn’t supposed to be in awe of anyone other than God.”

Extricating her fingers from his, she scooted across the swing until they were practically nose to nose. “You actually don’t have to explain a thing, Jakob. It’s written all over your face.”

He laughed and pulled her close. “I can’t wait for you to meet him,” he said against her temple. “You’re going to love him.”

 

 

Chapter Two

“I don’t think I could have imagined a better day than this, could you?” Claire leaned back against Jakob’s chest and watched as the rock he’d been saving for last skipped across Miller’s Pond four times before sinking below the surface. “Summer is still here, but fall is most definitely knocking at the door.”

“Fall has always been one of my very favorite times of the year.” Jakob wrapped his rock-skipping arm around Claire and pressed his cheek against hers, his words serving as a tour of a life she could never seem to learn enough about. “Sure, I loved coming here in the summer with Martha. Splashing around, skipping rocks, trying to swim to the other side . . . It was all good stuff. So, too, was winter and waiting for that moment when the ice was strong enough we could play hockey with whatever stick we could find.”

“What did you use as a puck?” she asked as her mind’s eye tried to place the man she knew with the boy he was describing.

“Most of the time we used a flat rock, like the kind I was just skipping. A few times, we used one of my shoes. And once, we used a baseball hat we found on the side of the road.”

“Your mother didn’t mind you taking off out of the house with an extra shoe?”

“When we used a shoe, it was always one of the ones I was wearing.”

She cocked her head up so she could see his face. “But if the ice was hard enough to stand on, wasn’t it too cold to be taking your shoes off?”

“Amish boys at that age aren’t much different than English boys. You see an opportunity to play, you play. No matter what.”

Bringing her focus back to the water in front of them, she took in the sunlight dancing across the top, the squirrels chasing each other on the opposite shoreline, and the way the leaves on the nearby maple tree were beginning to hint at the autumn finery to come. Everywhere she looked, nature was at its best, but at that moment, thoughts of a young Amish Jakob, darting around the ice in one shoe, was all she could really see.

“So who did you play hockey with? Martha?”

His laugh rumbled against the back of her head. “Oh no . . . Martha would hang with the best of us when it came time for summer activities. But when winter came, she stuck close to home, preferring to read or work on a quilt during any free time we happened to have.”

“Isaac?”

“No, not Isaac, either. By the time he was old enough to get out on the ice without worrying he’d do something silly, I was needed around the farm more.”

“Ben?”

His chin nodded atop her head. “Man, we had such fun when we were kids.”

She knew he was still talking, even managed to register the part about Ben donating his shoe on occasion, too, but mostly she was just thinking about the Amish man she called friend. Benjamin Miller was quiet, kind, hardworking, a phenomenal listener, and a respected member among his brethren. The fact that he’d actually proposed leaving his community to start a life with her the previous year had simply endeared him to her all the more. “Do you think he’ll ever remarry?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. Elizabeth has been gone a long time.” He released his hold on her long enough to push a strand of her auburn hair off his cheek. “I’ve seen him in the fields with the Stutzman boys and he’s good with them. He shows them how to do things instead of just telling them, you know? Makes me think he’d make a good dad one day.”

“I agree and . . .”

The rest of her sentence fell away as the clip-clop of an approaching horse claimed their collective attention and sent it toward the dirt pathway they’d navigated on foot not much more than two hours earlier. “Sounds like we’re about to get some company.”

“It does, indeed.” Wiggling out from behind her, Jakob rose to his feet and then held out his hand to help her do the same. “C’mon, let’s see who it is.”

Together, they cleared the oak tree that had provided shade during their picnic, as well as back support for Jakob while they talked, and made their way toward the path. As they reached the edge, a familiar gray horse with a black mane and curly black tail stepped into their line of vision, pulling an equally familiar buggy.

Claire squealed. “Ooooh . . . It’s Eli and Esther and the baby!”

Sure enough, Ben’s younger brother, Eli, lifted his hand in a wave as his wife and Claire’s former gift shop employee turned friend, Esther, broke out in a mile-wide smile. In her arms, nestled in a simple blanket, was their two-week-old daughter, Sarah.

Claire waited until Eli stopped the buggy under a grove of trees and then ran around to Esther’s side. “Good afternoon, Esther! How is that precious little girl today?”

The smile Claire couldn’t imagine being any bigger, grew exponentially. “She is good! She slept through her very first church service.”

Esther exchanged a knowing smile with her husband, who, in turn, nodded like the proud new father he was. “It was a good thing, too. Mast had to be nervous enough without the fuss of a baby.”

“Mast?” Jakob ran his hand down Carly’...

About this edition

• Publisher: Berkley
• Publication date: 2018
• ISBN 10: 0440000408
• ISBN 13: 9780440000402
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• Number of pages: 304