A Simple Shaker Murder Read Online Free Page A

The fact that Believers willingly shared their food with the poor families living nearby did not always quiet the resentment of the world.
    Brock watched her, his mouth hovering on the edge of a smile, which only heightened Rose’s wariness. She beckoned toward Gilbert and Celia.
    â€œSheriff, you should be aware that our guests, Gilbert Griffiths and Celia Griffiths, are kin of the unfortunate man. They are very upset, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
    Brock’s quick eyes snapped to the couple, who looked anything but upset.
    â€œWife?”
    Celia nodded.
    â€œDon’t miss him much?” Brock asked.
    â€œSheriff, I can assure you that Celia is devastated,” Earl said, stepping to Celia’s side.
    â€˜True,” said Gilbert. “Celia does not easily display her emotions.”
    â€œUh-huh. You a brother of the deceased?” Brock asked. “I see you’re about the same size.”
    â€œFirst cousin,” Gilbert said.
    â€œYou were close, then?” Deputy Grady O’Neal asked. Rose knew the sympathy in his voice to be genuine. His own people were local tobacco growers and well-to-do, but they maintained the closeness of hill-country families. Grady had practically grown up with his first cousins.
    â€œHugh believed as we do in the principles of Robert Owen,” Gilbert said. “You see, we are convinced that a civilized and happy human being emerges only from the right kind of education; that is, if all children were taught to be rational and truth-seeking in their thinking, they would inevitably—”
    â€œAnybody hate your cousin enough to want him dead?” Sheriff Brock asked. He tilted his head as if to observe Gilbert from a more revealing angle.
    Gilbert stared at him for several moments. “Hate? I . . .” His eyes - slid over to Hugh’s still form, now covered by a wornblanket. He cleared his throat. “I hardly think so. Hugh had a very kind heart. Are you . . . do you really suspect he might have been murdered?”
    Brock’s smirk suggested that where Shakers were concerned, any abomination was possible. Rose’s jaw set in determination. She knew that from now on, when she put her hands to work, it must be in the search for truth. Sheriff Brock would stop searching as soon as he’d settled on the truth that pleased him.

FIVE
    â€œW AS IT THINE INTENTION THAT I NOT BE TOLD OF THE SHERIFF ’ S arrival? Isn’t it enough that I must dine alone in the Ministry House; is the village now run without me? Am I no longer elder?”
    â€œWilhelm, there was no slight intended,” Rose said, feeling weary, though it was still morning. Wilhelm often drained her energy, like a fire sucking oxygen from a burning building. It didn’t help that he insisted on using the archaic “thee” instead of “you.” Somehow it lent an almost scriptural significance to anything he said.
    â€œSheriff Brock and Grady know the layout of the village,” she said. “You told them the body was in the orchard, so they simply went directly to the orchard. They believed there was no time to waste. Would you have preferred that I leave them there alone, while I came back to fetch you?”
    Wilhelm glowered toward the Trustees’ Office, at the west end of the village, where the dust was still settling from the recent departure of the sheriff’s brown Buick. Rose stood near him, but not too near, in front of the Ministry House. To be truthful, she very much wanted to keep Wilhelm out of the way. He had a habit of stirring up pots that were already boiling. She hoped to determine the truth of Hugh Griffiths’ death quickly and quietly.
    â€œWell, what did the sheriff conclude? Are we to be blamed, as usual?”
    Rose paused to measure her words. “He certainly did not conclude that we Believers are responsible for Hugh’s death,” she said. “As you know, the