Still, a small part of me wondered if it could be undone.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Can you tell me what happened with your first child?”

  I asked.

  She looked down at her hands. They were bone-white from the pressure of holding them in place so tightly.

  “I know it’s difficult to speak about, but I really think your baby’s adoption has something to do with Rosemary’s murder.” I shifted forward on the sofa, which was so big it threatened to swallow me.

  She chewed on her lower lip. “I was young, and I thought that I was in love. The man—boy, really—who I loved was a few years older than me. I didn’t understand. . . how children come into the world. It isn’t something that the Amish talk about. Maybe I would have known better if my mother had lived. She might have told me, but no one else did. When I found out that I was pregnant, I was terrified. But the most terrifying thing was telling my sister and brother. I knew they’d be ashamed of me, and I was right.”

  “Who was the baby’s father?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you that. He’s not Amish any longer, so it doesn’t matter.” She clenched her jaw closed.

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I decided to drop that line of questioning for the moment.

  “Whose idea was it to give the child up for adoption?”

  “Esther’s. I agreed because I didn’t know what else to do. I was so frightened. By that time, the boy I loved had left the Amish faith, and I knew that I would never see him again. Esther had an Englisch friend in Indiana, so she decided to send me there. The friend lived near an Amish community, so I could go to a birthing center to have the child. Esther and Abel swore me to secrecy.”

  And I knew it was a secret they were determined to keep. When I’d first moved to Harvest, a developer was blackmailing the Esh family with Emily’s secret. His goal was to convince them to sell the pretzel shop to him. When that developer turned up dead, the Eshes became suspects. It was the first case I’d helped Aiden with, and during that investigation, I had learned about Emily’s first child.

  “When you were in Indiana, did you see any other Amish?” I asked.

  She clasped and unclasped her hands. “Not really. We were close to an Amish community, but I lived with an Englisch family for the last four months of my pregnancy, when I could no longer hide it. The family kept me out of sight. After the child was born and I was feeling better, I came home and went back to work at the pretzel shop.”

  “And you never knew who took the baby?” It was hard for me to believe that she wouldn’t have asked. I was certain I would have.

  “I was told that my daughter was sent to a childless Amish family and the family was overjoyed. That’s all I know.” She let out a sigh as if she had been holding her breath. “I know that look on your face. I know that I should have asked more questions. I just did what I was told. I was so ashamed over what I’d done, I felt I didn’t deserve a say in what happened to me any longer.”

  I bit my tongue to stop myself from correcting her. I knew Amish culture had its own way of dealing with children born out of wedlock and members whom the community believed had made poor choices. However, I didn’t believe that anyone should be denied a say in the course of their own life.

  She looked out the window. “She’d be six years old now. I wonder about her every day. I don’t regret Esther’s decision. I wouldn’t have been a gut parent to her so young. If I’d kept my baby, my siblings would have turned me out of the house in order to save themselves from shame. Then where would we have gone? This way, she is growing up with a mother, father, and maybe aunts, uncles, and cousins. It’s more than I ever had, and all that I would want for her.”

  “Did you talk to your bishop or a church elder about any of this at the time?”

  She stared at me as if the suggestion was completely ridiculous. “Nee, no one in the church could know I was pregnant. Esther and Abel were very clear on that. We had to keep it a secret in the family.”

  I thought back to when I’d first come to Harvest and learned of Emily’s secret. The blackmailer had died before he could act out his plan to acquire the shop, but Emily’s secret had come to light as a result of his death. How had the developer learned about it? Someone else must know. Could it have been the child’s father who had told the blackmailer?

  “I know it’s difficult, but it might be helpful to know the name of the baby’s father.”

  She wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “I’m afraid you might have to tell me or the police. Presumably, if he’s still around, he’d be a suspect in the murder. Rosemary’s death appears to be tied to the baby you gave up for adoption.”

  “He didn’t know about the child. My brother and sister told me not to tell him.”

  I could hear the old hurt in her voice, and I balled my fists at my sides, close to my legs so that Emily couldn’t see how upset I was over the way she had been treated. She had been coerced from the beginning to the end of her first pregnancy. I blew out a breath, hoping I’d be able to speak without revealing my emotions. “What about his family? They must still be here.”

  She nodded. “They’re in Holmes County, but they are in a different Amish district. It’s a blessing that I don’t have to see them at church. I think that would have been very hard after I returned to Harvest.”

  “Have you seen the baby’s father since you gave birth?”

  She glanced at me. “Once. Just once. It was right before Daniel and I married. It was winter, and Margot had organized a hot chocolate sale on the square. I was there working for the sweet shop.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “I don’t remember this.”

  “You were in New York at the time, filming your show. You and Charlotte were both gone. It was just Clara and I there to mind the shop, so I volunteered to work in the hot chocolate stand. I didn’t want Clara to have to sit out in the cold. That’s when I saw him.”

  I leaned forward. “Did he see you?”

  “I don’t think so. As soon as I spotted him, I put on my bonnet to hide my face and kept my head down. The only people who saw my face that day were the people who bought hot chocolate.”

  “What was he doing here?”

  “I suppose he was visiting his family. He was in Englisch clothes and walked with an Englisch woman. They were holding hands. Even though I was about to be married, I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I’m happily married now to a gut man. He knows all I’ve done and still loves me. That is rare. I could never have hoped for such a husband as Daniel. He cares for me so well. But seeing the first man I loved with someone else, it was difficult. I wouldn’t say it was because I wanted him to love me instead, but it felt odd. For a moment, I had this flash in my mind that what I was seeing could have been my life. I could have been the woman in the Englisch clothes walking beside him and holding the hand of a little girl.”

  “You thought of being Englisch?” This surprised me.

  “Nee, but I know that’s what he wanted. I was weak and young. It’s clear that I was, or I would not have become pregnant in the first place. However, I didn’t want to leave the Amish way, while he was very certain that he did.”

  I knew it wasn’t my place to judge this young man whom I didn’t know, but I didn’t approve of how he’d treated Emily. Emily might have not been aware of the ramifications of sex, but I bet the young man knew full well.

  “That day I saw him, I remember feeling surprised that he would come back to Harvest. He knew my pretzel shop was across the street, even if I didn’t work there any longer, though he couldn’t have known I’d left.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. The Amish gossip mill was strong. If one Amish person wanted to find out what was happening in another Amish person’s life, it wouldn’t take a lot of work to get an idea.

  “When I was in Indiana, my sister forwarded me a letter from him saying that he was leaving the Amish way for gut.” She took a breath. “I was crushed.” She dropped her head. “My sister had been right to tell me to give up the baby. The child would have no father. That is not the Amish way to raise children.”

  I bit my lip to keep myself from saying what I really thought. Emily had been naïve. I wanted to give Esther the benefit of the doubt and believe that she’d tried to do the right thing for her sister. But I couldn’t help feeling she’d made her choices based on what was best for herself and the Esh family’s reputation.

  “What’s his name, Emily? You have to tell me. Aiden will want to know.”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she whispered.

  “You have to, and if you don’t, I’ll find it out another way. Even if people didn’t know of the baby, I’m certain there will be someone in the district who will remember the young man courting you. Probably a lot of someones, based on how rumors fly around the district.”

  She took a breath. “Gideon Glick.”

  I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted when she said that. Now, finally, I was getting somewhere in the case. “Thank you for telling me. I know this conversation must be hard, must remind you of old hurts.”

  She put a hand on her stomach. “This whole pregnancy has been difficult for me. It’s been even more difficult than the first one because it brings back so many memories. So many regrets. I should have stood up for myself back then. But I was so young and scared, and Esther and Abel were so strong. I didn’t have many choices, or at least it felt like I didn’t have many choices. Maybe if I’d gone to the district bishop and the elders to confess, things would have turned out differently. Not only for my daughter and me, but for Rosemary, too.” She looked at me with those wide eyes. “Do you think she was killed over the mistake I made all those years ago? How did she know about the baby?”

  “It’s hard to believe that would be the reason,” I hedged, knowing it wasn’t the definitive yes or no she’d been searching for. I wished I could give her more, but I didn’t want to lie. Emily had been lied to too many times before.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” I wanted to get to my car, so I could call Aiden and tell him what I’d learned. I also wanted to ask him to tread lightly with Emily.

  She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “I’m worried about Esther. Is she in much trouble?”

  I suppressed a wince. Esther was in a whole heap of trouble, but I couldn’t tell Emily that without upsetting her more. “She is a suspect.”

  She gripped her hands a little more tightly in her lap. “I thought so. In that case, I do have a request. Can you find out who killed Rosemary Weiss to clear my sister’s name?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Please, Bailey. If this is tied to the child that I had years ago, I can’t allow my sister to be punished for my mistake.”

  What if I discover that Esther did kill the woman? I wanted to ask, but I stopped myself. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Danki,” she whispered and began to softly cry for Esther, her children, herself. I didn’t know, and I didn’t have the chance to ask because the front door opened and Daniel came running into the house.

  He hurried over to Emily and knelt in front of her. “Are you sick?”

  She shook her head. “I need to talk to you.”

  Daniel looked from me to Emily and back again. “What is it?”

  I stood up. “Emily, I’ll see you later. Why don’t you take tomorrow off from the candy shop and rest? It’s a Monday. Things will be slow.”

  She didn’t respond, so I opened the door to go out.

  “Where are you going?” Daniel asked me.

  “You need to talk to Emily alone.”

  My heart hurt for her. It would be difficult for her to tell him what she had to say, and it would be hard for him to hear again the story of her first child. I prayed that Daniel would be understanding and not punish Emily any more than she had already punished herself for what had happened in the past.

  I let myself out of the house. This was one time when eavesdropping wasn’t the least bit tempting. I didn’t need to hear the outcome of this conversation.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Here’s the thing about social media that most people don’t think about: it makes it super easy to track a person down. As long as a person has a profile on the Internet and you have a few clues as to the people they might know and where they live, you can probably find them. Also, a startling number of folks don’t take advantage of the privacy settings on their accounts. They might think that the picture of their dog is just going to their friends, but it’s actually out there for all the world to see.

  I knew this from my own experience at JP Chocolates. When I worked there as Jean Pierre’s second in command, I was in charge of hiring sous chefs for the shop. The first thing I would do when reviewing applicants was to look them up on the Internet. There were many times I didn’t even interview a candidate because their online persona appeared problematic. I’d also not dated someone for the same reasons. A boss or girl can never be too careful.

  Aiden had told me many times that he’d used social media to track down criminals, and it’s standard police procedure now. Of course, it doesn’t work with the Amish criminals. But Gideon Glick was English now.

  While driving away from the Christmas tree farm, I called Aiden to tell him what I had learned, but he didn’t pick up. I pulled over to the side of the road and texted the highlights to him. While the car was stopped, I decided to take a peek on the Internet for one Gideon Glick. I found him with very little effort. According to his profile on a business networking site, he worked at an accounting office in Millersburg.

  It was Sunday. The office would be closed, but I was out and about already, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a look at the place.

  Millersburg was the county seat of Holmes County and a short drive from Harvest down a county road lined with Amish farms and stores. However, as I drove through the busiest part of the county, including the Amish town of Berlin, more of the businesses started to look English. It turned out that Millersburg was an English town in an Amish county.

  The best indication of its Englishness was the impressive county courthouse. It rose hundreds of feet in the air. In the cupola, there was a clock, and a statue of the blind Lady Justice stood on a ledge near the top of the giant structure holding her scales.

  Even though Millersburg was an English town in an Amish county, not many of its storefronts were open on a Sunday morning. Some would open at noon for the after-church crowds, but an accounting office probably wouldn’t fall into that number.

  There was ample street parking, so I pulled in next to the courthouse and decided to walk to the accounting firm. It was in one of the two-story brick buildings that lined the street across from the courthouse.

  I walked over and studied the plaque screwed on the brick wall. The third listing down was Glick and Marin Accounting. I tried the door. No surprise that it was locked. I frowned at the door, and to my shock, it swung open. I jumped back just in time to avoid the door hitting me in the nose.

  “Oh my God! Are you all right?” asked a thin woman in a bright blue wrap dress. She wasn’t Amish, of course. She wore makeup, jewelry, a form-fitting dress, and super high heels. The Amish would never wear an outfit that was so impractical.

  Before I could answer, she added, “You shouldn’t be standing outside the door like that if you don’t want to get hit.”

  I raised my brow. “I thought the place was closed. I was just locating the offices of Glick and Marin.”

  “Oh!” Her demeanor changed again, giving me mental whiplash. She was all smiles. “I’m Leslie Marin. Can I help you?”

  “I was looking for an accountant.” That was technically true. “Gideon Glick was recommended to me.”

  “What kind of accounting do you need?”

  “Well, I’m a small business owner.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “We love small businesses. Would you like to come in for a moment and talk things over?”

  “I—I didn’t expect anyone to be here today.”

  “It’s May—we’re still in cleanup mode after tax season. It’s easier to get catch-up work done when the rest of the county is sleeping or at church.” She sighed. “Taxes are such a gauntlet every year. I told Gideon that we have to think about hiring some more help to get through the first four months of the year.”

  “Gideon is your business partner?”

  “Yes, and he’s my husband, too. I’d tell anyone to think twice before going into business with their spouse. I can’t say that we’re always on the same page.” She laughed at her own joke.

  “Oh.” I didn’t know why it surprised me that they were married. I supposed it was her name. A woman keeping her maiden name wasn’t common practice in Holmes County. “Maybe he’s that way because he was Amish.”

  Her eyes narrowed. I affected my most innocent expression. “His name is Glick, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, right,” she said, slightly appeased. “I guess anyone who has lived in Amish Country for any amount of time knows Amish names. I’m not from here. I grew up in Cleveland.”

  “What brought you to Holmes County?”

  “My husband. He wanted to be closer to his family, which surprised me. When I first met him, he didn’t have many favorable stories about his life growing up Amish. I suppose age mellows a person out to old hurts.”

  Age? Leslie was twenty-four if she was a day. I guessed that Gideon was the same age. It was impressive that they’d been able to open their own office at such a young age.

  “Would you like to come up and talk about how we could help grow your business? What kind of business are you in again?”

  “I have a shop in Harvest.” I waited to see what her reaction would be.

  “Harvest?” She looked me up and down. “I thought all the businesses there were Amish. You would think with Gideon’s Amish connection that we’d have luck drumming up business in that community, but they’re another breed. They seem to think they can manage their own money. Maybe they can. But can they make it grow?”