Read Online Assaulted Pretzel by Laura Bradford - Free Book Online Page B

sitting on a rock gazing up at stars with the Amish man. “Only I never saw a creek either time I went there.”
    A beat of awkward silence was broken by Jakob. “We used to catch frogs in that creek after the chores were all done.”
    “We? You mean you and Martha?” she asked.
    “No. Ben and me.”
    Before she could make sense of what she was hearing, Benjamin’s hand moved toward the screen once again. “What is that?”
    Jakob’s shoulders snapped to attention. “What’s what?”
    “That paper and those cups.”
    Sure enough, on closer inspection, a stack of papers was visible atop a large, flat rock just to the left of the stone wall. Moving his finger to the top of the camera, Jakob zoomed in closer on the image, the previously nondescript stack of paper now revealing basic drawings and simple measurements housed between two paper coffee cups.
    Pressing the zoom one more time, the drawings became crystal clear.
    “That is the plan for Isaac’s roller track.”
    Jakob met Benjamin’s eyes and held them steady. “Are you sure?”
    “You can show the picture to Isaac if you must, but I am sure. He showed them to me when he made them.”
    Claire looked back at the plans so obvious now in theimage’s magnification. “But why would Rob Karble have a picture of them in his camera?”
    “Perhaps he stole them,” Benjamin mused.
    It was a simple sentence yet one that resulted in drawing a faint gasp from her lips and a spine-chilling response from Jakob’s. “And perhaps someone stole them back.”

Chapter 8

    I f Jakob sensed her studying him, he gave no indication, his complete focus somewhere other than Heavenly Treasures, or, perhaps, even Heavenly, itself. Something was off about the detective. Something that made her want to ask yet had the simultaneous effect of warning her off any and all questions.
    Maybe it was the fact that the dimples that normally came so easily hadn’t made an appearance even once.
    Maybe it was the dull, troubled look in his eyes.
    Maybe it was his uncharacteristic silence as he stood there, by the side window, staring out at the alley that had long been vacated by Benjamin and his buggy.
    And maybe it was because, deep down, she knew what was wrong. It was kind of impossible not to on account of what she knew about the detective’s past.
    “You don’t think your brother had anything to do withthe murder, do you?” Claire finally asked if for no other reason than to draw him out and let him know she was there and ready to listen.
    Slowly, Jakob turned, his eyes hooded, his shoulders drooping downward. “Until I saw him at the festival yesterday, I hadn’t seen Isaac in sixteen years. I can image what kind of man he has become based on the boy he once was, but I can’t know for sure.”
    “How old was he when he came to live with you and your family?” Though she knew details from what Esther had told her, she had yet to ask Jakob directly until that moment. “Had you known him long?”
    Jakob closed the gap between the window and the counter, his gaze now fixed on the memories that began to pour from his lips. “Isaac was a newborn when his mother showed up in Heavenly. She’d lost her husband in a farming accident in Indiana and she wanted a change. She came here, with Isaac, and never remarried. Instead, she supported the two of them with the quilts she made and the preserves she canned. Then she became ill and asked my mother and father to look out for Isaac when she passed. They obliged. Isaac was four.”
    “Was it hard for him to adjust? Losing his mom like that?”
    “Mary Schrock was a strong woman.” Jakob leaned his forearms atop the counter next to the camera. “She prepared Isaac for the change as she was dying. He accepted it as God’s will. As we all did.”
    She tried to take it all in, to process it as the factual account it was, but the part of her that felt people’s pain found it difficult to let go, especially as it pertained to a