Among the Wicked: A Kate Burkholder Novel by Linda Castillo Page B

meeting him.”
    “Well, a lot of the church districts have fallen to having worship every other Sunday. Bishop Schrock preaches every week. You’d be wise not to miss one.”
    “I don’t plan to.”
    Sighing, she looks down at the bag in my hand. “What do you have there, Kate?”
    “I was wondering if you take quilts on consignment.”
    “Ah! You’re a quilter.” Nodding her approval, she motions toward the rear of the shop. “Let’s take a look and see what you have.”
    I follow her to an open area where a large rectangular table is set up with five chairs around it. There’s no one else present at the moment, but I know by the sheer number of quilts for sale that most days the chairs are filled by Amish women. If the walls could speak …
    I set my bag on the table and pull out the two crib quilts. Laura assumes a deadpan expression, but I see her eyes light at the sight of the craftsmanship. She looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. “That’s some fine work.”
    “My mamm and grossmuder were quilters,” I say, trying not to feel guilty for passing someone else’s work off as my own. “I learned from an early age.”
    She takes the quilt from me and runs her fingertips over it, taking in the texture of the fabric, the intricate stitching. “The colors are pretty for a little one. You just have the two?”
    “I’m working on two more. One is nearly finished,” I tell her, pleased I left them back at the trailer, which gives me a reason to return to the shop. “A pink and blue tumbling block.”
    “I’m happy to take these on consignment.” She tries not to look too excited, but I can tell she’s more than a little impressed. “I might be able to get two fifty or so for them.” Putting her hand on her hip, she gives me a that’s-my-final-offer look. “It’ll cost you twenty percent.”
    “Fifteen percent and you have yourself a deal.”
    She huffs, looks back down at the quilt in her hand, and sighs. “I can tell you’re from Ohio.”
    “How’s that?” I ask.
    “Because we’re a frugal bunch and we can drive a hard bargain when we need to.” Her stern face breaks into a grin. “You have yourself a deal, Kate Miller. Fifteen percent it is.” She hefts the quilt and looks at it admiringly. “You’d best get to work on those others. I suspect these will go fast.”

 
    CHAPTER 8
    A quick stop at Walmart for groceries, an extra blanket, and a pair of wool socks, and I’m back at the trailer by noon. When I walk in the door, my hands and feet are numb and I’m shivering so hard I nearly drop the key. Filling the kettle with water, I set it on the stove for hot tea, using the flame to warm my fingers.
    After stowing the groceries, I dig out my phone and call Suggs. “Did you know Rachel Esh was rumored to have had a boyfriend?”
    “Some of the Amish hinted at it, but no one would say for sure so I could never confirm it or identify him,” he replies. “Did you get a name?”
    “The woman I talked to didn’t know. It’s just rumor at this point, but she mentioned he may be older and married.”
    “That’s interesting as hell.”
    I tell him about my conversation with Laura Hershberger. “Sometimes there’s a grain of truth in a rumor.”
    “Think you’ll get the chance to work on her some more?”
    “I’ll probably see her at worship tomorrow. Everyone in the community will be there, so I’ll have the opportunity to meet a lot of people.”
    “Nice job, Chief. This is exactly the kind of thing we were hoping you’d be able to do.”
    “Whether anything will pan out remains to be seen, but it’s a start.” I pause. “I also met the woman Rachel Esh was living with when she died.”
    “Mary Gingerich. You work fast.”
    “Roaring Springs is a small town. The Amish community is even smaller. I knew she worked at the diner.…”
    “Anything new?”
    “Not really, but I’m starting to get a better picture of Schrock.” I tell him everything I’ve