Seeds of Deception: A Kate Burkholder Short Story (Kindle Single) Read online

  “It’s Mattie’s,” she replied.

  “Mattie Erb? No wonder you haven’t gotten much done.” He looked at her basket and shook his head. “Where is she?”

  Katie blinked, her mind whirling. She was such a terrible liar … “Not that it’s any business of yours, but she went into the barn for a pee break.”

  “Oh.” He glanced away, trying not to look embarrassed. Served him right for being so nosy, she thought. “I know how you two are when you’re together with all the talking,” he said. “I’ve already filled two baskets and you’ve barely filled one. Datt’ll be here shortly to pick us up.”

  Katie tried to keep her eyes off the barn, but it wasn’t easy. She disliked lying to her brother—disliked lying to anyone—even if it was by omission. But there was no way Jacob would stand for Mattie going into the barn with a boy, especially Billy Marquart. If he found out, he’d surely tell their parents. Katie knew all too well that if that happened, she’d find herself in trouble, too, even though this time she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “The only one I hear talking too much is you,” Katie muttered.

  Sending her a scowl, Jacob picked up one of her empty baskets and retreated toward the other end of the orchard.

  For ten minutes Katie picked apples as quickly as she could. When the lower halves of the trees were picked clean, she moved the wagons farther down the row. She didn’t like the growing distance between her and the barn. Mattie had been gone for nearly fifteen minutes. How long did it take to smoke a cigarette? Not that long, a little voice whispered. What else were they doing? Talking? Something else?

  The tiny seeds of worry from earlier had grown into something dark and unwieldy. Not only was Billy a troublemaker, but Katie had heard stories about his temper, too. Rumor had it, he’d gotten into a fight at Miller’s Pond last summer—and sent another boy from Coshocton County to the hospital.

  The whisper of footsteps against the grass spun her around. Katie gasped. It was Billy walking fast, passing within a few feet of her. He didn’t look happy, didn’t make eye contact with her, and Katie was pretty sure he had a scratch on the side of his face.

  “Where’s Mattie?” she called out.

  “That little bitch is all yours.” He didn’t spare her a glance as he followed the tracks of the ATV. “I’m outta here.”

  Katie watched him stalk away, alarm stealing through her. How did he get that scratch on his face? Where was Mattie? Had he done something to her?

  She launched herself into a dead run toward the barn. “Mattie!”

  She was midway there when her friend emerged. A quick once over told her Mattie was unharmed. But Katie didn’t miss the tuft of hair that had been pulled from her kapp. That the kapp itself was askew. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips devoid of the lipstick she’d put on minutes before going into the barn.

  “What happened?” Katie asked.

  “Nothing happened, silly.”

  “But I saw Billy,” she blurted. “He had a scratch on his face. He looked … upset.”

  Mattie huffed. “Billy Marquart is dumber than a chicken.” Brushing hay from her dress, she headed for their wagons. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  Katie wasn’t ready to let it go. “How did he get that scratch?”

  “Probably ran into a tree.”

  “Mattie, you were in the barn for fifteen minutes. What were you doing? Why was he so angry? Did you argue?”

  “Er harricht gut, awwer er foligt schlecht.” He hears well, but obeys poorly. “So I put him in his place.

  Katie paused. “What did he do?”

  “If you must know…” Mattie swung around to face her. “He tried to kiss me.”

  All Katie could do was put her hand over her mouth.

  Mattie laughed. “Don’t worry,” she added. “I sent him packing.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  A slow smile spread across Mattie’s face, telling Katie she was not only unfazed by what had happened, but she’d enjoyed it. “Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” Mattie asked.

  “Yeah,” Katie muttered. “Me.”

  Elbowing her good-naturedly, Mattie motioned toward the wagons. “Come on. Let’s go work down at the other end with Jacob.”

  “We’ve got plenty of apples to pick here,” Katie returned.

  “I want to say hello to him.” Scooping up the wagon’s handle, Mattie started toward the opposite end of the orchard. “Are you coming?”

  Grumbling beneath her breath, Katie followed, but she was only mildly annoyed. Mostly, she was glad Mattie was all right—and Billy Marquart was gone.

  Neither girl spoke as they made their way down the row of apple trees, the wagons bumping over tufts of grass and uneven ground.

  They’d only gone a few yards when Katie caught a whiff of something burning. “I think you smell like smoke,” she whispered.

  Frowning, Mattie looked down at her clothes. “Do you have any perfume or hand lotion?”

  “Did you really just ask me that?”

  They’d nearly reached the end of the row when Katie spotted Jacob through the trees. A look at his baskets told her he’d already filled three—to her one.

  “We’d best get picking,” she said.

  The girls set to work, barely speaking now to make up for their lack of productivity. Katie was still pondering the scratch on Billy Marquart’s face and Mattie’s nonchalant attitude about what had happened in the barn. She loved Mattie, but there were times when she didn’t like her ways, especially when it came to boys. Mattie had known from the get-go that Billy was trouble, and yet she’d willingly gone into the barn with him. Worse, Katie didn’t think she was telling the whole story about what had happened. But what could she do?

  She’d just twisted an apple from a branch when she caught another whiff of smoke. Not cigarette smoke, but something stronger carried on the breeze.

  “Do you smell that?” Katie asked.

  Pausing, Mattie sniffed. “I bet someone is burning trash or brush.”

  The wind was from the south. Katie glanced that way. Uneasiness quivered through her when she spotted dark tendrils of smoke rising into the air. It seemed to be coming from the general direction of the barn.

  “I think the barn’s on fire!” Katie exclaimed.

  “What?” Dropping the fruit she’d been holding, Mattie spun and looked. “Oh no!”

  As if by mutual agreement, the girls ran toward the barn. They’d gone only a few yards when Katie saw orange flames leaping twenty feet into the air. Through the open barn door, she saw a good-size fire blazing inside the structure.

  “What’s going on?”

  Both girls started at the sound of Jacob’s voice. Katie glanced at him, but his eyes were fastened to the flames licking at the sky thirty yards away.

  “I’m going to get Mr. Zimmerman.” Jacob tossed a hard look at Katie. “Stay here. Do not get any closer to the fire. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  At that, he took off at a sprint toward the Zimmerman house.

  Katie and Mattie watched the flames expand, the smoke pouring like a twisting, writhing tornado into the clear blue sky. Though they stood a safe distance away, Katie could feel the heat against her face, the acrid stink of the smoke climbing into her nostrils.

  It seemed like an eternity before the wail of sirens sounded in the distance. Relief swept through her when the first fire truck rumbled through the gate, emergency lights flashing. Two firefighters clad in protective gear dragged a hose from the truck and began to spray water onto the flames.

  “It’s a good thing you and Billy got out when you did,” Katie said after a moment.

  “That’s for sure,” Mattie replied.

  “I wonder how the fire started.”

  When her friend didn’t reply, Katie looked her way. “Mattie?”

  Glancing left and right, Mattie lowered her voice. “I think Billy Marquart might’ve … done someth
ing.”

  Though she was sweating, the hairs on Katie’s arms stood on end. “Done something like what?”

  “When we were in the barn,” Mattie began, “We smoked for a bit and then he … you know, tried to … kiss me. I pushed him away, and he got angry. He … called me bad names and punched the wall with his fist.”

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “No, but he scared me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it was my fault for going into the barn with him in the first place.” Mattie blew out a breath. “Bad idea, huh?”

  A second fire truck arrived on scene. Two additional firefighters disembarked. Beyond, flames devoured the barn, the dry wood snapping and popping like firecrackers.

  All the while Katie tried to absorb everything her friend had told her. “Did Billy start the fire?” she whispered.

  “He was so angry with me.” Looking miserable, Mattie shrugged. “He had a lighter. What if he did?”

  A crash sounded, making both girls jump. Katie glanced over in time to see part of the barn’s roof cave in, sparks flying high into the air, gray smoke billowing. The firefighters continued to battle the blaze. In the gravel driveway beyond, a sheriff’s department cruiser pulled up next to one of the fire trucks.

  “We have to tell someone,” Katie said after a moment.

  “You mean the police?” Mattie asked.

  “They’re probably going to want to talk to us anyway. All we have to do is tell the truth.”

  For the first time Mattie looked frightened. “Billy’s going to be pissed.”

  Katie felt something protective rise up inside her. “I have a feeling the police are going to keep him busy for a while.”

  *

  Twenty minutes later, Katie, Jacob, and Mattie stood in the gravel driveway of the Zimmerman home. They’d been instructed by the Holmes County sheriff’s deputy to wait for their turn to be interviewed. Mr. Zimmerman was talking to the deputy, gesturing angrily toward the barn. Both men’s faces were grim, their voices low.

  A dozen yards away, the barn smoldered and steamed. The fire had been extinguished. The structure was still standing, for the most part, but the contents inside—a tractor, spray equipment, and a hundred bales of hay—had been destroyed.

  Through the door, Katie saw the outline of the tractor listing at a cockeyed slant, the tires burned off. Once the firefighters had gotten the blaze under control, the deputy motioned them over and brought them here, to the driveway. Katie, Jacob, and Mattie watched, unspeaking, while the police had methodically talked to everyone—workers and customers alike. Billy Marquart was nowhere in sight.

  The uniformed deputy approached them, his expression grim, his demeanor professional. “Is everyone okay here?” he asked.

  “We’re fine,” Jacob told him.

  “Was anyone hurt?” Katie asked.

  The deputy shook his head. “Luckily, no one was inside.”

  He pulled a notebook from his shirt pocket. His eyes fell on Katie and then went to Mattie. “I understand you girls were picking apples near the barn. Did either of you see anything you want to tell me about? Was there anyone else around?”

  Jacob interjected, his expression puzzled. “Did someone start the fire?”

  “We don’t know yet,” the deputy hedged. “Fire marshal is probably going to get involved. But we think it’s a possibility.”

  The cop’s gaze slid to Katie. “Did you see anyone?”

  Her heart began to pound. She swallowed hard, staring back at him. “The English boy.”

  The deputy’s eyes narrowed. “Which English boy? What’s his name?”

  “Billy Marquart,” Mattie put in. “He works here at the orchard.”

  He scribbled in the notebook. “Virginia and Bud’s son.” He said the words to no one in particular, frowning. Painters Mill was a small town, and evidently, he had some knowledge of Billy.

  “Where did you see him exactly?” the deputy asked.

  “Both of us saw him,” Mattie replied. “In the barn.”

  Neither girl mentioned that Mattie had been in the barn with him.

  Across from her, Jacob looked from Katie to Mattie, his eyes narrow and glinting with reproach.

  “How long after you saw him in the barn did you notice the fire?” the deputy asked.

  “A few minutes,” Katie replied.

  Grimacing as if he’d bitten into something distasteful, the deputy made another notation in his notebook. “Did you see anyone else?”

  “No,” Mattie replied. “Just Billy.”

  In her peripheral vision, Katie was aware of Jacob watching the exchange with interest. She didn’t dare look at him, but she knew what he was thinking. That she and Mattie had been talking to Billy. That they’d been flirting with him. That Mattie had been in the barn.

  The deputy asked for the exact time, but neither girl could say for certain. “What was Billy doing when you saw him?” he asked.

  “Leaving the barn,” Katie said.

  “He was running,” Mattie added. “He looked like he was in a big hurry.”

  The deputy snapped the notebook closed. “If we need anything else, we’ll get in touch with your parents. You’re free to go.” Tipping his hat, he walked away.

  Katie had hoped for a few minutes alone with Mattie, but she didn’t get the chance to speak with her again because Datt arrived a few minutes later to take her and Jacob home.

  On the buggy ride to the farm, Datt inquired about the fire. Jacob explained that Mattie had seen the Englischer boy who worked at the orchard and left it at that. Datt didn’t press.

  Katie decided she was going to be nicer to her older brother.

  *

  Early the next morning before worship, Katie went to the barn to feed the old Percheron draft horse her datt had charged her with caring for. She found Jacob already at work, mucking out the stalls.

  “Did you hear about Billy Marquart?” he asked.

  Katie cut the tie on the hay bale, pulled out a generous flake of alfalfa and dropped it into the feeder. “What did he do now?”

  “The police arrested him. For arson.”

  The statement shouldn’t have surprised her. Mattie had told her Billy might have set the fire. Katie had seen him walking away. The problem was, he hadn’t been alone in the barn, and no one had told the deputy.

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Datt told me. One of his English friends works at the sheriff’s department.”

  Katie went over to the hand pump, concentrating a little too hard on pumping water into the bucket.

  “Billy claims he didn’t do it,” Jacob told her.

  She stopped pumping. “Everyone knows Billy Marquart is a liar and a druvvel-machah to boot.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  She stopped pumping, her heart beating fast. “He came over to Mattie and me while we were picking apples. He was on an ATV with another boy. He asked me to go into the barn with him, and I told him no.”

  Jacob didn’t look happy about that bit of information. He was protective of his sisters. Too protective, in Katie’s opinion, and a lot more judgmental than he had a right to be. This morning, she sorely hoped he just let it go.

  “What about Mattie?” he pressed. “You told me she went into the barn for a … break.”

  She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. A lie dangled on her lips, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. “You’ll have to ask her.” Hefting the bucket, she carried it to the stall and hung it over the hook.

  Her brother’s eyes sharpened on hers.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” She closed the stall door with a little too much force. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Katie didn’t respond. There was no way she could defend herself without having to tell him more than she wanted to and risk getting her friend in trouble.

  Leaving the
stall where he’d been working, Jacob crossed to her. “I see things, Katie. Things Mamm and Datt do not. Sometimes I don’t like what I see when it comes to you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know you talked to Billy. I know you’ve talked to other boys, too, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

  “You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at Daniel Lapp? The way he looked at you?”

  Heat flooded her face. Not because she was being accused of something she hadn’t done, but because he was calling her on something she was, indeed, guilty of.

  “I’m not a kid anymore,” she snapped. “I’m fourteen years old. I’ll be going to singings before long.”

  “I don’t like Lapp. I don’t like Billy Marquart. And I’m not sure I like Mattie Erb.”

  “You can’t choose my friends,” she spat, but her cheeks were still burning.

  “Keep it up and I’ll have no choice but to go to Datt.”

  Turning away, she started toward the barn door. “I have to get ready for worship.”

  “Billy says Mattie started the fire.”

  Katie stopped and swiveled to face him, her heart pounding. “Sell is nix as baeffzes!” That’s nothing but trifling talk.

  “He told the police she had a lighter. A pink one. The police searched Billy, searched his room, and guess what? They didn’t find a lighter.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” she hissed.

  “Billy told the fire marshal that he saw Mattie set that fire.”

  “I don’t believe it. Mattie wouldn’t—”

  “Billy said she did it to punish him for getting her fired from her job at the auction.”

  “What else is he going to say?” Katie tried to laugh, but it didn’t ring true. “Billy Marquart is a liknah.” A liar.

  “You seem to know a lot of them.” Jacob moved closer, tilted his head to make better eye contact. “Maybe you ought to choose your friends with a little more care. I wouldn’t want any of it to rub off on you.”

  “The only thing rubbing off on me is your suspicious attitude,” she said.

  Jacob sighed. “Datt told me the fire marshal is going to talk to Mattie again, if they haven’t already. More than likely they’ll be speaking to you and me, too.”