“I think it’s at the bishop’s house. Ruth Yoder would like to have it at her farm every time, but the bishop won’t allow it. It does end up there every other time though.”

  “And Levi attends services?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I guess so. I never spoke to him, but I think he’s been there in the past. His kids were. They’re closer to my age.”

  “We’ll give it a try. We are going to see some turkeys.”

  Jethro lifted his head up off the pillow in the stroller for half a second as if he was excited by the prospect of a turkey visit, but then he put his head back down.

  “He’s really not feeling like himself,” Charlotte said.

  “I have half a mind to leave him here with Puff, but I want to keep an eye on him.”

  She grinned. “You have a soft spot for Jethro, don’t you?”

  I pointed at her. “Don’t go and tell Juliet that.”

  She laughed.

  * * *

  Wittmer Poultry Farm was on the border between Holmes and Tuscarawas counties, so it was on the far eastern side of Harvest. The farm was back off the main road on what I would call at best a dirt and gravel path.

  My car bounced up and down as we went along the track. Every time we hit a rut, Charlotte put one hand in the air as if to stop herself from hitting the roof of the sedan. Her other hand rested protectively over Jethro’s flank. He lay across her lap like a sack of potatoes. It could be my imagination, but he was looking a little green. Had I known how rough the road was, I would have insisted Charlotte stay with him in the car, and I would’ve tackled this stretch of road on foot.

  “The ruts are made by buggies and wagons,” Charlotte said as we rocked and rolled over another one. “I don’t think many cars come back here. It’s a lot like many of the roads in the conservative district where I grew up before I came to stay with Cousin Clara. We never saw a snowplow much less a road crew.”

  “How does Levi get his chickens and turkeys to market then? Wouldn’t trucks have to have access to his farm?”

  Charlotte shrugged.

  We came around a bend in the winding road, and a mailbox seemed to pop out right in front of us. Stuck in the ground next to the mailbox was a hand-painted sign that read, “Wittmer Chickens and Turkeys.”

  A hidden driveway was just beyond the sign. The driveway appeared to be in better shape than the road, so I turned down it. The farmhouse was maybe four hundred feet from the mailbox. Two large barns stood another five hundred feet beyond that. I parked the car at the end of the driveway. “I think we should get out and walk.”

  Charlotte looked down at Jethro. “What about him?”

  I scratched Jethro under the chin, and he perked up. “Let’s take him with us. I have his leash. Maybe walking around a bit will help him.”

  She shrugged as if it made perfect sense to walk a pig around a poultry farm. “I’ve done some pretty odd things since I met you, cousin.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  We got out of the car, and I clipped the leash on Jethro’s pink and white polka-dotted collar.

  He looked up at me.

  “If you get tired of walking, just let us know, and we will carry you.”

  Charlotte looked around at the gravel driveway. “Ya, the stroller would not work here.”

  The farmhouse was quiet, which made me believe that Charlotte had guessed rightly that Levi and his family had gone to church at the Yoders’ farm that morning. Amish church could last well into the afternoon, so I wasn’t worried about Levi or another family member coming home to find us snooping around.

  We could smell the birds before we reached the barns. The air was full of the scent of meal, hay, and scat. Since moving to Amish Country, I had spent enough time on farms that I wasn’t immediately repulsed by the smell, but I knew it would be ten times worse inside either of the barns.

  The aroma seemed to be just the ticket to revive Jethro though. He put his snout in the air and inhaled deeply. His tail appeared to be a bit more curled and he had a spring in his step.

  “Well, if nothing else, coming out here has been a big help to Jethro.” I watched as the pig pranced ahead of me.

  “Why are we here?” Charlotte asked. “Don’t you want to talk to Levi about Blaze? You can’t do that on a Sunday.”

  “I know. I guess I just want to get the lay of the land before I speak to Levi.”

  “That means you’ll have to drive down that bumpy road on another day. You can count me out on that. I almost got sick to my stomach from all the jostling.”

  Next to the barns there was an open area and I guessed there were sixty to seventy chickens and turkeys roaming around and pecking at the ground. I was happy to see the birds had space to roam and weren’t trapped in little cages inside the two barns. From what I could tell, they were healthy. However, seeing them running about and scratching at the grass did make me feel a tad guilty for eating turkey on Thanksgiving. Just as I’d stopped eating pork and bacon when I met Jethro, I guessed that these birds were going to convert me closer to becoming a vegetarian as well.

  A young Amish man came out of the closest barn. He whistled to the chickens and turkeys as he threw a mix of corn and feed pellets on the ground for them.

  “That’s Leon Hersh,” Charlotte said. “Hey, Leon!” she called.

  Leon jumped and the feed pail flew into the air, barely missing a brown hen that was minding her own business. The birds didn’t seem to be upset about Leon’s mishap at all. They rushed him and pecked at the ground. He ran from the frenzy and jumped onto the top rung of the fence between us.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Gathering what dignity he could, he climbed over the fence to join us.

  The turkeys bulldozed the hens out of the way, so they could reach the overturned pail of feed first.

  “I’m fine.” He was breathing heavily. “You just startled me is all, and those turkeys can always smell weakness, can’t they?”

  “You seemed to know how to get out of their way,” Charlotte said as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “I don’t think I have ever seen anyone jump that high in my life.”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve been chased by poultry. It probably won’t be the last either,” he added in a forlorn voice.

  Leon adjusted his glasses, which had gone askew on his nose. “What are you doing here?”

  “We could ask you the same. Shouldn’t you be at Bishop Yoder’s house for church?” Charlotte asked.

  I raised my eyebrows at her. Since my cousin had left the Amish way, she’d certainly grown more assertive. I didn’t mind at all. It saved me from having to ask all the questions.

  Leon brushed dust from the front of his trousers and removed a feather from his hair. “I plan to head to church later. I promised Levi that I’d finish up the chores here first. I just cleaned out the chicken and turkey barns. I was in the process of giving them an extra snack for being so good while I cleaned the pens and cages. Then you scared me.” His tone was accusatory as he looked at me.

  I held up my hands. “It wasn’t me. It was Charlotte.”

  She frowned at me. “Thanks.”

  Leon swallowed. “Levi wanted to have the barns cleaned because he has a state inspection tomorrow. He offered to pay me extra to do it on a Sunday. I couldn’t turn the offer down—I need the money. Now that I’m done, I’ll run home, get cleaned up, and go to church.”

  I wanted to ask him why he needed the money so much. For a devout Amish person to work on Sunday was very unusual. However, I didn’t really know how dedicated Leon was to his faith. Before I could ask that, though, Leon looked down at Jethro at our feet.

  The little pig was in much better spirits. He wiggled his tail and had his snout pressed up against the ground as he inhaled all the delicious scents of a new farm.

  “You brought Jethro with you?” he asked as if it was a very bad idea.

  I supposed most locals in Harvest thought bringing Jethro anywhere was a bad idea.

  “Sure,” I said as if the pig’s presence was perfectly normal.

  “You brought him to see the turkeys?” Leon was thoroughly confused.

  “We just wanted to see where the Thanksgiving turkeys came from. You brought the turkeys from Wittmers’ for Thanksgiving, didn’t you?”

  He paled slightly when I mentioned Thanksgiving, and I wasn’t the only one to notice. Charlotte leaned forward as if taking a closer look at his face. “Are you all right?”

  Leon blinked behind his glasses. “Ya, I’m sorry. I was just thinking of that man who died. It was awful. I can’t get his face out of my head.”

  I nodded. “It was.” My heart softened to Leon. He was still very young. At fifteen, he might have been considered an adult in the Amish world, but to me he was still very much a kid—in this case, a scared kid. “How long have you been working for Levi?” I asked, hoping to get his mind off the dead man.

  Leon twisted his mouth. “For a year or so. Since I finished school. He’s not the only person I work for. I do odd jobs all over the county.”

  “Like for Margot.”

  Sweat began to form along his hairline. “Ya, the village square needs a new caretaker and I would like the job. The position would pay me what I need, and it would be so nice to work in just one place instead of scraping together odd jobs, hoping I can make rent.”

  I wanted to ask him what he meant when he said “make rent.” Did he not live with his family, or did his parents make him pay for room and board?

  Before I could ask any of those questions, Leon said, “Margot is letting me try out being caretaker but hasn’t decided for sure if she wants to give me the job. Ever since Uriah Schrock went back home to Indiana, she’s been on the hunt for the perfect replacement. I don’t think this week’s events helped my case. It was my job to make sure Thanksgiving Day went well. . . .”

  “It’s not looking good then,” Charlotte said.

  He hung his head. “It’s not.”

  “But it’s not your fault Blaze is dead,” I said.

  He wouldn’t look at me. “I know.”

  I frowned. “Did you meet Zara, Margot’s mother, on Thanksgiving?”

  He nodded. “Margot asked me to take care of her. That was my main job for the day. She said if her mother had everything she needed, the day would go perfectly. I didn’t want to do it. Zara is even more intimidating than Margot, but I agreed to it because she said she’d give me the caretaker job if her mother had a nice time. I didn’t know then that Zara was the kind of person who could have a terrible time just about anywhere. She complained about everything, even when it was done just as she liked it. She found fault with just about everything I did.”

  That was an interesting observation and one that I didn’t necessarily disagree with.

  “What does it mean when you say ‘take care of her’?” Charlotte asked.

  “Nothing bad. I was just supposed to give her whatever she needed while she was in the village. That way Margot didn’t have to deal with her mother. I don’t think the two of them like each other all that much.”

  That was a serious understatement.

  “Mostly, I was supposed to keep Zara away from Margot.”

  “Were you told to do the same for Blaze?”

  “Blaze?” he squeaked.

  I felt some sympathy for him. I truly got the feeling that he wanted to do a good job at everything he undertook. Unfortunately, he was s skittish young man. I couldn’t help but wonder about what might have transpired in his life to make him so jumpy and unsure of himself.

  I felt my forehead crease. Why hadn’t Margot told me that she’d had Leon babysitting her mother? Did she think it wasn’t important? It stood to reason that if Leon was keeping such a close eye on Zara—and Blaze, by extension—he might have seen something related to the murder, including someone putting church spread on Blaze’s marshmallow fluff.

  “You probably want to leave before Levi gets home. I don’t know if he would take kindly to you being on his farm when he’s not here.” Leon looked this way and that. He removed his black felt hat and twisted the brim in his calloused hands. “He probably will talk to you if you come back, but he’d be mad that you were here on a Sunday.”

  I didn’t read much into the last statement because I knew how important the day of rest was to most Amish. Levi would be angry if I interrupted his family’s Sabbath day.

  There was a loud bang as the side gate at the end of the large chicken and turkey pen flew open.

  “How did the gate get open?” Leon cried, hurrying in that direction.

  At first, the turkeys and chickens just stared at the open gate in confusion. However, that confusion didn’t last long. Just as Levi reached the gate to close it, they charged.

  The biggest of the turkeys flapped his wings and ran full tilt at Charlotte, Jethro, and me. He had blood in his eyes. Three other turkeys and at least a dozen chickens were in hot pursuit.

  Screaming, Charlotte scooped up Jethro and ran for the car. She was fast. I had no idea that she could run so fast, and in a skirt too. I was right behind her. I wasn’t a runner by any stretch, but the threat of being pecked to death by an angry turkey was a great motivator.

  Charlotte threw open the car door leaped inside with Jethro. Taking a few precious seconds, I ran around to the other side of the car and jumped into the driver’s side, just as the lead turkey hopped onto the hood of the car and flapped his wings.

  Charlotte stared at the turkey as it angrily squawked and gobbled at us. She pointed at the claws scratching the paint on the hood. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

  I grimaced.

  The turkey jumped off the car, and he and his gang ran back to the poultry barns. From where we sat, we could see Leon chasing the birds back through the gate. I considered getting out of the car again to help but thought better of it. That lead turkey had it out for me.

  “Bailey,” Charlotte said, out of breath. “It seems like every time I’m with you something new happens. I have never been chased by turkeys before while carrying a sick pig.”

  “Few people have, Charlotte. Few people have.” I started the car and backed out of the driveway.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  After the turkey episode, Charlotte and I thought it was best to call it a day. She went back to Swissmen Sweets, and I took Jethro to my house. He and Puff reunited. The pig grunted at the rabbit, and I imagined that he was telling her about his insane morning. Within an hour the two were asleep side by side in Puff’s bunny bed.

  In the meantime, I was in the process of breaking my grandmother’s rule again about working on Sunday. However, since she never went on the shop’s website, I wasn’t worried she would find out about it. In theory, I understood the idea of Sabbath. Rest was important. In my mind, rest could be different things for different people. Updating a website was restful to me. It was quiet and peaceful. It distracted me from worries about Aiden and about Blaze Smith’s death.

  I had been working on the website for over an hour when my phone rang. I picked it up and saw the caller ID read, “Yoder shed phone.” I grimaced. The only person I could imagine calling me from that phone was Ruth Yoder. That couldn’t be good. Something would have to be very seriously wrong for Ruth to call me on a Sunday.

  I put the phone to my ear and winced as I said, “Hello.”

  “Bailey, it’s your maami.” My grandmother’s voice was in my ear.

  I sat up straight. “Maami, is everything okay?”

  “Ya, I’m fine. I came to church today with a friend, and she and her husband had to leave early because their goats got loose back on their farm. Could you come pick me up? Normally, I would ask the bishop himself, but he had to take the Yoder family buggy out to call on a sick church member, so Ruth can’t run me home. I don’t want to ask anyone else to go out of their way for me.”

  Relief flooded me. Even though I had lived in Harvest for over two years now, I could count on one hand the number of times my grandmother had called my cell phone. Because of that, I had expected the worst. Picking her up from the Yoder Farm was the least I could do.

  “I’m happy to come get you,” I said.

  “I knew you would be, my dear.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  “Danki, don’t rush, dear, especially if you are spending time with Aiden.”

  I bit my lip. I hadn’t seen Aiden all day. “I’ll be there soon.” I stepped over to the bunny bed and shook Jethro’s shoulder. “Wake up. We have to go get my grandmother from the Yoder farm. We’ll drop you off at the church after.”

  Jethro twitched his ears but didn’t open his eyes.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Jethro. We have to go. Maami needs our help.”

  He lifted his head half an inch and looked at me. He did look incredibly comfortable curled up next to his best bunny friend, Puff.

  I sighed and picked up the pig. He squealed in protest and then became a dead weight in my arms. “When you want to, you can weigh as much as a sack of bricks.”

  Puff rolled over and went back to sleep. It seemed she didn’t mind having her bunny bed back to herself at all.

  On the drive to the Yoder farm, Jethro seemed to get a second wind. He sat up in the passenger seat and looked out the window. I wondered what my neighbors thought when I drove by with a polka-dotted pig riding shotgun. I had a pretty good idea what Penny would think. I sighed. I needed to find a way to smooth things over with her. I didn’t want to feel that I needed to avoid my next-door neighbor. At the same time, I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I was frustrated for being judged. Aiden wasn’t embarrassed by what Penny might think or gossip about, but he didn’t live in Harvest anymore. What could rumors really do to him? Honestly, I didn’t care what they might to do me either. I was thinking of Maami.

  Bishop and Ruth Yoder had one of the largest farms in the village of Harvest. The house had once been a simple farmhouse, but over the generations had grown into a monstrous thing that covered nearly one hundred fifty feet of farmland. From what I had been told, the reason was that Ruth liked to keep her family close. As the family grew, the house was expanded. Most of their children had their own farms or homes now though, so from what I heard, it was just Ruth and her bishop husband alone in the giant house, with family moving in and out as they needed support from the bishop and his wife.