of the night would she let the reality of Perry’s death sink in.
Imagining the commotion that was surrounding the murder investigation, she’d feel guilty. It hadn’t been right to escape to her grandparents’ farm like she had, but her parents had encouraged the trip. They hadn’t trusted the policeman from Cincinnati.
Actually, they hadn’t trusted Sheriff Kramer, either.
“There’s no reason for you to become entangled in the police investigation, Deborah,” her mother had said. “After all, you knew nothing about Perry’s habits. None of us did. I don’t know how, but Perry pulled the wool over all of our eyes.”
Deborah never said anything, but she privately thought that the reason Perry had been able to pull that wool so well was because they hadn’t wanted to see what he was doing.
It had been easier to be ignorant.
But Deborah had known more than she’d ever let on about her brother’s habits.
She’d simply chosen to do nothing about it.
Now, though, she was back and was determined to hold her head up high. Even if some people thought she should stay in hiding, ashamed of what her brother had become and what had happened to him.
After washing her face and getting dressed for the day, she did the dozen other things that were part of her normal morning routine.
Then prepared herself to finally go to Schrock’s Variety.
Her mother wasn’t happy about it. She’d been flitting around her like a hummingbird since breakfast, full of nervous energy and advice. “Deborah, perhaps you should stay home today,” she said. “There is nothing we truly need at the store.”
“I told you I’d buy you some fresh cottage cheese and buttermilk, Mamm. Mr. Schrock always carries fresh dairy on Tuesdays.” Plus, she, at least, needed to begin her life again. Staying inside and sheltered from the rest of the community was becoming too easy.
If she kept it up, she’d soon never want to leave her house.
“But Perry used to work there.” Her mother bit her lip. “And I’m afraid Mr. Schrock and Perry didn’t part on the best of terms. For some reason, Mr. Schrock fired him.”
Deborah fought back the urge to roll her eyes upward. Though not a bit of what they were talking about was humorous, her mother’s penchant for turning Perry into a saint was hard to take. “Mamm, I know that. Of course I know that.”
“Then you know there might be hard feelings . . . Some people might take out their anger toward Perry on you.”
Deborah was sure they might. But she also knew things wouldn’t get better until she made some changes in her life. She needed to move forward and find something to occupy her mind instead of grieving for her brother. “I’ll be all right.”
Her mamm wrung her hands. “But they might ask you questions.”
“Muddah, Perry was murdered. People want to know what happened.”
“But you shouldn’t have to talk about him. You shouldn’t have to dwell on things that make you upset.”
“I already am upset, Mamm. He was my brother, of course I’m going to be sad that he’s dead.”
And before her mother could refute that, Deborah slipped on her black tennis shoes and began the trek to Schrock’s Variety Store.
It wasn’t a short walk. Easily three miles. But the day was sunny and the sky was blue—and the exercise would improve her spirits. Already, the plan to get out of the house for the day was lifting her spirits.
She grabbed a tote to carry the dairy products home and swung it a little at her side as she left the house. She was happy not to have to be fussing with a horse and buggy and all the headaches that came with driving a buggy through traffic on a Tuesday morning.
As she passed Stanton Park, she was reminded of the rumor that Lydia Plank liked to meet Walker Anderson there, and then she passed a pair of nurseries. Finally, after almost an hour, Deborah arrived at Schrock’s.
Now, as she stood outside the door, all the doubts she’d tried so hard to keep at bay rushed forward. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so bold?
Perhaps she should feel more dismay for Perry and more shame for her brother’s actions.
Then the door opened with a jerk, making the decision for her. She hastily took two steps back.
“Careful in there,” a man muttered before dashing out of the way. “Things are crazier than usual.”
She stood at the stoop, watching him in confusion.
Mr. Schrock was known for outlandish schemes. It was part of his charm,