Read Online The Amish Widow (Amish Romance Mystery) (Amish Secret Widows' Society Book 1) by Samantha Price - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Samantha Price
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there.” Elsa-May switched off her cell phone and placed it back in the sideboard drawer. “What was he doing in the vulture’s office? You need to find all these things out.”
Ettie touched Emma lightly on her arm. “ Jah , dear. You have to go back there and get all the information you can.”
“What will I say that I’m doing there?” Emma swallowed hard.
Maureen spoke up, “You could say that you’re there to speak to Mr. McAllister about selling your farm. I mean, say that you’re thinking of selling and you want to talk it over with him.”
“I’m a little scared. What if someone saw us there?” Emma asked.
Ettie shook her head. “ Nee don’t worry about it. No one would have seen you and besides you didn’t kill him, did you?”
Emma shook her head.
Elsa-May said, “See, nothing to worry about. Besides all Amish look the same to the Englischers. If someone saw a couple of Amish ladies just deny it was you. They can’t prove anything. Ettie, hitch the buggy and take these two girls home; they look like they need a gut night’s sleep.”
“ Jah , Elsa-May.”
Emma was concerned by the late hour. “ Nee , we’ll get a taxi.”
“ Nee , it’s no problem. I’ll be two minutes.” Ettie left the three women in the haus and went to the barn.
“I should help her,” Maureen said as she walked out the front door.
“Elsa-May, sometimes I feel that you’ve been involved in things before, with the flashlight, the rubber gloves and all.”
“Let’s just say, we look after our own.” She gave Emma a wink. “We’ll get to the bottom of this mess, don’t you worry.”
Emma studied the capable old lady. Somehow she believed her words, but Emma was worried at exactly what they would uncover. She hoped that Wil had nothing to do with whatever was going on.
Chapter 8.
And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:7
It was just as Ettie had said it would be. The place was crawling with police when she arrived there at nine a.m. the next morning. Emma walked up the stairs and found that the vulture’s office had police tape across the door. People in white coats were brushing things; Emma assumed them to be looking for prints.
“Can I help you with something?”
Emma turned to see a solidly built man. His appearance was such that Emma immediately recognized him to be a policeman or some kind of detective since he was wearing plain clothing. “I’m looking for Mr. McAllister.”
“He’s not here.”
“What’s happened in there?” Emma pointed toward the office. Just as she did so she noticed a girl in the corridor crying.
“The forensics team is combing the office.”
Emma gasped in a suitable manner. “Forensics? Did someone die?”
The detective studied Emma carefully. “I’m afraid so. I stationed someone on the door downstairs. How did you get up here?”
“I didn’t see anyone down there. I just walked up here. So did Mr. McAllister die?”
“No, it wasn’t McAllister. It was someone else, but we can’t release the name, until we inform the family.” The detective pulled a small notepad and pen from his pocket. “And what’s your name?”
“My name is Emma Kurtzler.” Emma lowered her voice, “Is that girl all right?”
“She’s Mr. McAllister’s secretary. She’s the one who called us. We’ve got a policewoman on the way to interview… to look after her.”
Emma could not take her eyes off the young girl, who Emma guessed to be in her early twenties at the very most.
“Simpson, can you take Liza Weeks downstairs?”
A uniformed police officer stepped out of the office and guided the girl down the stairs.
The detective turned his attention back to Emma. “And what business do you have here?”
“Mr. McAllister has asked me a couple of times if I want to sell my property. I’ve just come here to talk about it.”
“Was he expecting you?”
“No, he
Ettie touched Emma lightly on her arm. “ Jah , dear. You have to go back there and get all the information you can.”
“What will I say that I’m doing there?” Emma swallowed hard.
Maureen spoke up, “You could say that you’re there to speak to Mr. McAllister about selling your farm. I mean, say that you’re thinking of selling and you want to talk it over with him.”
“I’m a little scared. What if someone saw us there?” Emma asked.
Ettie shook her head. “ Nee don’t worry about it. No one would have seen you and besides you didn’t kill him, did you?”
Emma shook her head.
Elsa-May said, “See, nothing to worry about. Besides all Amish look the same to the Englischers. If someone saw a couple of Amish ladies just deny it was you. They can’t prove anything. Ettie, hitch the buggy and take these two girls home; they look like they need a gut night’s sleep.”
“ Jah , Elsa-May.”
Emma was concerned by the late hour. “ Nee , we’ll get a taxi.”
“ Nee , it’s no problem. I’ll be two minutes.” Ettie left the three women in the haus and went to the barn.
“I should help her,” Maureen said as she walked out the front door.
“Elsa-May, sometimes I feel that you’ve been involved in things before, with the flashlight, the rubber gloves and all.”
“Let’s just say, we look after our own.” She gave Emma a wink. “We’ll get to the bottom of this mess, don’t you worry.”
Emma studied the capable old lady. Somehow she believed her words, but Emma was worried at exactly what they would uncover. She hoped that Wil had nothing to do with whatever was going on.
Chapter 8.
And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:7
It was just as Ettie had said it would be. The place was crawling with police when she arrived there at nine a.m. the next morning. Emma walked up the stairs and found that the vulture’s office had police tape across the door. People in white coats were brushing things; Emma assumed them to be looking for prints.
“Can I help you with something?”
Emma turned to see a solidly built man. His appearance was such that Emma immediately recognized him to be a policeman or some kind of detective since he was wearing plain clothing. “I’m looking for Mr. McAllister.”
“He’s not here.”
“What’s happened in there?” Emma pointed toward the office. Just as she did so she noticed a girl in the corridor crying.
“The forensics team is combing the office.”
Emma gasped in a suitable manner. “Forensics? Did someone die?”
The detective studied Emma carefully. “I’m afraid so. I stationed someone on the door downstairs. How did you get up here?”
“I didn’t see anyone down there. I just walked up here. So did Mr. McAllister die?”
“No, it wasn’t McAllister. It was someone else, but we can’t release the name, until we inform the family.” The detective pulled a small notepad and pen from his pocket. “And what’s your name?”
“My name is Emma Kurtzler.” Emma lowered her voice, “Is that girl all right?”
“She’s Mr. McAllister’s secretary. She’s the one who called us. We’ve got a policewoman on the way to interview… to look after her.”
Emma could not take her eyes off the young girl, who Emma guessed to be in her early twenties at the very most.
“Simpson, can you take Liza Weeks downstairs?”
A uniformed police officer stepped out of the office and guided the girl down the stairs.
The detective turned his attention back to Emma. “And what business do you have here?”
“Mr. McAllister has asked me a couple of times if I want to sell my property. I’ve just come here to talk about it.”
“Was he expecting you?”
“No, he
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