Material Witness (15 page)

“Yes, son. Now.”

He wiggled out of his pants and pulled the tabs on the diaper, a grin spreading across his face as she helped him onto the toilet.

Unfortunately, his good mood didn’t last.

As soon as they left the bathroom and he smelled the chocolate chip cookies, he pushed between the legs of the people in the shop and pressed his face against the glass counter of the display.

“Joshua, come back here.” Deborah excused herself, made her
way to the front of the line, and finally caught hold of his hand. With some effort she dragged him away from the display.

“Joshua hungry.” He looked at her with eyes as round as the large fresh cookies stacked behind the case. “
Mamm
. Cookies.”

“Josh, honey. The line is much too long.” Deborah squatted beside her son and attempted to reason with him. When it was obvious he wasn’t hearing a word she had to say, she tried to take his hand in hers and head outside once more. Joshua was having none of it. The cookies were plainly inside, and that was where he wanted to be. He sank to the ground as if he had no bones, dragging his feet and pointing toward the counter of baked goods and iced drinks.

“Joshua thirsty. Josh hungry.”

A few tourists sent her
the look
— the one that said, “Control your child or take him home.”

She wished it were so simple.

By the time she’d dragged him out to the sidewalk he was in full-blown meltdown.

Fortunately there was a vending machine across the street.

“Let’s buy you some cold water.”

“Cookies. Joshua wants cookies.”

Cookies! She’d left the pies in the buggy. What had she been thinking? The murderer, Callie, Melinda’s boys … her mind was so full, she’d completely forgotten the pies.

Feeding a dollar into the slot of the drink machine, she snatched the cold bottle of water from the bin below, and twisted the cap open. Joshua stopped crying as soon as his lips settled around the cold bottle.

“Joshua like water.”

“I know you do, sweetie.”

He took a big drink, dribbling some on his shirt. “And cookies.”

“How about some pie instead?”

Picking him up, she hurried toward her buggy. Was it really mid-afternoon? The day was passing too quickly. She needed for time to slow down.

Joshua clutched the water bottle as they neared the buggy, hurrying. Deborah wondered if the pies were ruined.

She’d finally come within sight of her buggy when an old man stepped out from between two
Englisch
cars. Deborah moved to the left to scoot around him, but he moved in the same direction.

Heart racing, she moved to the right. He was now close enough that she could see his face, the hand that reached out to stop her, the vaguely familiar eyes looking into hers.

“Deborah. It’s me — Gavin.”

“Oh, my heavens.” Deborah stopped and picked Joshua up, needing to feel him against her to slow the beating of her heart. “Andrew? Is that … you?”

“Good disguise, huh?”

She peered closer. He wore baggy clothes, a wig, and some sort of powder over his skin that made him appear wrinkled — from a distance. Up close, it just made him look dirty.

“
Ya
. I thought you were a person in need of a home.”

Gavin smiled slightly at that. She had no idea why.

“I even knew you were dressing as an older man. Shane told me, but I didn’t quite envision … this.”

Joshua reached out to pull on the hair that draped around Gavin’s face, giggling as he did so.

“Something wrong with your little guy? I thought I heard him crying as you came around the corner.”

“He’s hungry and probably doesn’t feel like walking.”

“What are you doing back here? I thought you were headed to our alternate location.”

Deborah shook her head as she continued moving toward her buggy. “It’s a mess. The entire day has been nothing but one giant catastrophe.”

“No one’s been hurt, have they?” Andrew reached out and touched her arm. Deborah couldn’t help patting him on the hand, even if it did mean she got some of his mysterious powder all over her fingers.

“I think everyone’s fine. I caught Esther and Melinda in time. Melinda turned around and headed back home, so I brought her pies in for her and then forgot about them.” Opening her buggy door, they both peered inside. “Oh, dear.”

“Looks okay to me.” Gavin took Joshua as she reached inside and pulled out a meringue pie.

“Meringue isn’t supposed to look like a crater. It’s supposed to be … fluffy.”

“Where do all these go?”

“Booth twenty-nine, Melinda’s sister. I was in such a hurry to look for Aaron, Matt, and Noah that I forgot about delivering the pies.”

“The boys are here?” Gavin’s voice dropped to a rumble.

“
Ya
. I think so. I spotted Noah’s buggy. Noah came separately from Melinda. That’s why I turned around and came back. Melinda went on to the house to see if they were still there and wait if necessary, and I came into town to deliver the pies and look for Noah and the boys …” Her voice drifted off as she closed her eyes. The pies were a mess. What now?

“All right. I’ll call it in to the team — that way we’ll have everyone looking. You take these pies on to the booth. It’ll look more natural to be moving merchandise while you’re looking for them, and you’ll be able to see better from the buggy anyway.” Andrew placed Joshua in the buggy’s seat, then touched Deborah on the shoulder, waited for her to turn and look at him. “Try not to worry. We’re lucky to have run into each other. This way we can work together.”

Deborah started to say that maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe it was
Gotte
’s
wille
. But before she could get the words out, Andrew leapt for the buggy.

He reached Joshua too late.

“Pie. Joshua like pie.”

One hand in the shoofly, the other in his mouth, he smiled up at her. Deborah knew she should be angry, but then she remembered he hadn’t had much of a lunch and no afternoon snack. She reminded herself that a dangerous man was stalking them, and the priority was to find Melinda’s family.

“Yes, Joshua likes pie, sweetie.” Turning him around in the front seat so he was sitting and holding the small pie in his lap, she kissed him once on the cheek.

Climbing into the buggy, she waited for Andrew to untie Cinnamon, then made her way back into the crowd, toward booth twenty-nine. While she slowly crept forward, she watched the people for any sign of Aaron, Matt, or Noah. She searched the faces for a glimpse of the person drawn by the police sketch artist.

And she occasionally glanced over at her son, perfectly content with his shoofly pie.

Something about the way he smiled at her convinced her they were going to find a way out of this maze.

O
NCE
A
ARON STARTED ROLLING
through the festival crowds, he forgot to be afraid.

For one thing, he and Matt ran into Annie King. She didn’t even ask about the murder, though there were posters in every shop window. Instead she started teasing him right off.

“Thought your
mamm
would make you stay home and study your math, Aaron.”

“Why would she do that?” He squinted up at her, the sun making it hard to see the expression on her face. Not that he needed to see it. Her tone was enough to know she’d have that smirky smile.

“Why? Because your folks don’t abide
B
’s, same as mine don’t. ‘Course I don’t make
B
’s so it’s not a problem.” She plumped out the apron over her dress, then glanced at Matt, who was talking to a few of the older boys from their school.

“I could tutor you.” She ran her fingers down the strings of her prayer
kapp
, then twirled them around. Why did she do that? Were the strings bothering her? “If you want me to. Since you’re having problems.”

“Nein.”

“Nein
, you don’t want me to? Or
nein
, you’re not having problems? Which do you mean?”

“I didn’t mean neither one.”

“You didn’t mean
either
one.” Her expression suddenly resembled his teacher’s. Except on Annie King’s face, it made Aaron’s head hurt.

Suddenly Aaron wanted to be moving through the crowd again. Even the risk of being caught by a murderer seemed better than Annie’s questions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Annie, but I don’t need you coming over to show me numbers.” At precisely that moment, Matt and his
freinden
stopped talking and started listening. Suddenly, everyone was completely silent, then everyone laughed — everyone except Annie.

“Fine. Excuse me for offering to help.” She flipped the strings of her prayer
kapp
behind her and disappeared into the crowd.

“I will never understand girls,” Aaron muttered.

Matt said good-bye to his
freinden
and began pushing Aaron’s chair. “It doesn’t get any easier that I can see.”

“Don’t notice
Mamm
and
Dat
going at it.”

“True enough, but then maybe they’ve had time to settle down. Look at how old they are.”

Aaron hadn’t ever thought about it. Were his parents old? They were just his parents. They were the age they were supposed to be.

Old was Bishop Elam or his
grossdaddi
or the woman who had died outside Miss Callie’s shop.

The image came back like a sudden headache brought on by eating ice cream too quickly. The woman looking at the shop, then the
Englischer
sneaking up behind her. The woman leaping forward, leaping to her death. It replayed through his head over and over in an endless loop.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“
Ya
, ‘course I am.”

“Then tell me which way you’d rather go.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Aaron pushed away the memories of the
night before and tried to focus on what Matt was saying.
“Dat
said we had an hour before we were to meet him. He was taking Hannah to see the clog dancers.”

They waited, indecision freezing them in the crowd.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing clog dancers,” Aaron admitted as they began moving forward again.

“Ya
, but we’re supposed to be walking around, looking for —”

“I remember who we’re looking for.” Aaron jerked to the left in his chair as a big
Englisch
woman with an even bigger purse nearly whopped him on the side of the head.

The crowds were larger than ever this year. Or maybe he didn’t remember last year as well as he thought he did. Would they even be able to spot the man from last night if he were walking down the sidewalk next to them? “I can’t see anything from here except elbows. Maybe we should try across the street.”

“
Gut
idea. I think the booths are drawing all the crowds over to this side.” Matt pulled Aaron’s chair to a stop in front of a red light, but as he did, the light changed to green.

They started across the busy street, and that’s when Aaron saw it. He saw it at the same moment his
bruder
did, at the same moment Matt drew in a big breath, and yanked back on the handles of the chair, nearly throwing Aaron out of it with the sudden change in direction.

Aaron’s eyes were glued on the small blue car barreling toward them and the man and woman seated behind the windshield. Their faces were all wrong, as if they had been covered with paint or mud.

But the eyes — he would know the eyes of the driver anywhere. He’d seen them — a little less than twenty-four hours ago, and then again in his nightmares.

Shane had experienced many such moments before, but few of them had involved children.

Moments when everything happened at once.

Moments when all other things came to a crashing halt.

The moment when he first made contact with the perp.

He was walking with his chain saw, headed toward Callie’s shop. It wasn’t his designated time to stop by. The shop was currently covered by one of Taylor’s men who was supposed to be wandering around the store shopping from his wife’s list. Shane had talked to him not five minutes before, and everything was quiet.

So why was he headed over there?

Why was he stepping outside of his own plan to calm the worries racing through his mind?

Because he couldn’t resist the need to confirm with his own eyes that she was fine.

So he’d closed the tent flap on the booth he’d appropriated from the local vendor and headed toward the quilt shop.

He noticed the blue Smart Car approaching from the north immediately. The cars were a curiosity — more like a child’s toy than an actual vehicle. He’d seen a few in Fort Wayne, but there weren’t any registered in Shipshewana that he was aware of.

But he didn’t immediately notice the two people in the vehicle were wearing masks. He was too far back.

Sunlight glinted off metal.

He looked to the west, saw Aaron’s wheelchair with Matt pushing it on the edge of the walkway. He had time to register that the boys weren’t supposed to be here. Deborah ought to have intercepted them outside of town. So he changed course, determined to reach Melinda’s boys before they crossed the street. But then the light changed to green and Matt started to push Aaron’s wheelchair as traffic traveling north to south stopped.

Except for the blue Smart Car.

It accelerated.

And it was headed straight for the boys.

Matt pulled back on the wheelchair at the exact moment Shane pulled out his Glock, stepped forward, and shouted, “Police! Everybody down!”

The Smart Car swerved in order to hit the boys, but a vendor with a cartful of ice cream either realized what was happening or abandoned his cart out of instinct. He pushed the cart into the street and it careened off the little blue car, sending it in the wrong direction.

Shane raised his gun and aimed at Callie’s “Creeper” — he knew without a doubt that this was who he was facing — but he quickly realized he couldn’t discharge his weapon in a crowd of people.

The driver of the car hadn’t slowed down after being hit by the ice-cream cart. As he barreled forward, Shane could see the man was wearing a skintight mask. For a fraction of a second, Shane had a perfect shot, but if he hit the driver, the car would be completely out of control on a crowded street.