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    Solitude Death: An Amish Country Murder Mystery
    Solitude Death: An Amish Country Murder Mystery
    Solitude Death: An Amish Country Murder Mystery
    Ebook131 pages2 hours

    Solitude Death: An Amish Country Murder Mystery

    By Saundra McKee

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    About this ebook

    The murder mystery takes place in 1990 in the peaceful western Pennsylvania community of Solitude. Members of the Amish community have received anonymous threats, their barns have been burned down, and their horse drawn buggies have been attacked and driven off the highway. The situation deteriorates even more when a young Amish schoolteacher is found stabbed to death in her classroom. Dana Blades, a thirty nine year old Florida history professor and sleuth, is home to care for her ailing mother. She reconnects with some of her childhood friends, including some members of the Amish community who all work together to see the murder solved. The investigation leads Dana through many twists, turns and run ins with hate groups, land developers, suspicious neighbors and the police. Many fear that dark and sinister forces are at work in this bucolic community. Dana, who has her own secrets and share of painful losses, takes the reader through many exciting and heartstopping events that lead to a surprising conclusion that leaves her and Solitude reeling. (first of a three part series)

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSaundra McKee
    Release dateApr 20, 2011
    ISBN9781458037961
    Solitude Death: An Amish Country Murder Mystery
    Author

    Saundra McKee

    I am a retired educator. I taught in the public schools for 15 years and at the university level for 22 years. I love to travel the world. I enjoy politics, dogs, mysteries and water sports. I am a lay speaker in the United Methodist Church.

    Read more from Saundra Mc Kee

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      Book preview

      Solitude Death - Saundra McKee

      Solitude Death:

      An Amish Country Murder Mystery

      By Saundra J. McKee

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

      Published by Saundra McKee at Smashwords. Copyright 2011. Saundra McKee

      Prologue

      1960

      I don’t remember very much about 1960. After all, it was thirty years ago, and I was only ten years old. Two events do stand out. I remember being a Kennedy girl, parading around in a red, white and blue straw hat and patriotic banner when John Kennedy campaigned in our rural county seat. My parents were Democratic Committee people and made sure I got to shake the hand of the future President. My Dad believed that JFK was the best thing since FDR. In 1960, even more importantly, I remember making a new and somewhat unusual friend that I will never forget. My memories of my Amish friend, Fannie Miller, and the choices she made continue to shape my thoughts about life and people. Then in 1990, the Amish would come to play a larger role in my life than I could have ever imagined. Murder is like that, it can bring all sorts of people together in new and unimagined ways.

      Back in 1960, several Old Order Amish families moved into our rural region of western Pennsylvania. They purchased numerous farms from elderly people who wanted out from under years of hard agricultural work. Many of the local farmers’ children had gone to college and were anxious to take less demanding careers off the farm. Most of us English, as the Amish referred to anyone who was not Amish, knew very little about this Christian sect whose lifestyle remained unchanged for over three hundred years. Some of our neighbors scoffed at how the Amish men immediately tore out the telephones, electricity and plumbing from the houses they purchased. I was fascinated by the large families who rode through our small town in horse drawn buggies and dressed in dark colored heavy materials, even in the hottest days of summer. The Amish men reminded me of a bearded William Penn, our state’s founder.

      When school started in the fall at the two room Consolidated School (formed from several area one room school houses), it was great to see the kids that I’d been learning with since first grade (kindergarten was viewed as frivolous). Grades one through three were in one side of the building with grades four through six in the other. Being in fifth grade, I’d already had a year with Mrs. Hoover who I still think was the best teacher ever. She stood much taller than the blackboard, wore large horned rimmed glasses on the tip of her nose and had a funny story for every occasion. I especially loved it when she sat at the piano and enthusiastically played songs. Her music ranged from patriotic to religious to silly, and we all loved to sing along.

      There were twelve of us in the fifth grade and a similar number in fourth and sixth. Mrs. Hoover would teach some things to the whole class while at other times, she would teach one grade separately and the rest of us would work on assignments. Today the educational pundits call this looping. For us, it was the rural reality.

      We were all quite surprised when on the second day of school, three Amish kids came to our class. The girl’s name was Fannie Miller, and Mrs. Hoover had her sit directly in front of me. For most of that day, I just stared at her back; her white prayer bonnet over a bun in her hair, and the long sleeved, ankle-length royal blue dress that appeared to be held together by straight pins. Her shoes were black and looked like clunky men’s work boots. Fannie seemed pretty shy, and for a few days we only exchanged some smiles and hellos. While the class played softball or bull in the ring at recess, Fannie and the two Amish boys stood on the sidelines and watched.

      One day, Fannie left her lunch on the school bus. We didn’t have a cafeteria, just cartons of warm milk delivered to school each day. We ate at our desks. I’d noticed that Fannie usually ate a big piece of homemade bread and a chunk of cheese. I usually brought a cheese or peanut butter sandwich myself, so I offered to split mine with her. At first, Fannie said, No that’s O.K., but when I assured her that I couldn’t eat it all, she agreed to share my cheese sandwich.

      That sandwich marked the beginning of our friendship. It broke the ice, and got us talking throughout the day. At first we talked about school, homework, where we lived, and our brothers and sisters. Fannie had a total of eight older brothers and one baby sister. I just had one younger brother who was in first grade and followed me around like a lost puppy.

      When I told my parents about my new friend, they seemed to sense my excitement. In a few days, I found a colorful book about the Amish on my desk at home. The book described a fascinating lifestyle that though rooted in tradition, had many variations across states and communities. My mother had been a teacher and my dad loved history, taking us on regular vacations to Gettysburg, Valley Forge and Washington, D.C. Both my folks asked me lots of questions about the Amish and seemed as fascinated by their way of life as I was.

      As the fall days grew colder, Fannie and I became more and more comfortable with each other. Fannie never asked me as many questions as I asked her, but she never seemed to mind sharing what her life was like. I kept a diary, and much of it was devoted to what I was learning about the Amish from my friend Fannie.

      Chapter 1

      1960

      In October, it was time for getting our school pictures taken. I noticed that Fannie along with John and Eli, the two other Amish in our classroom, did not have theirs taken. I asked Fannie about this. She said that they didn’t believe in having photographs taken because the Bible said that people should not make graven images. I wasn’t sure what a graven image was and doubted that the Bible we used in our Methodist Church had a problem with school pictures. Fannie said she thought their Bible was the same as ours, so I decided to check with my Sunday school teacher. She confirmed that we all used the same Bible, but we just interpreted things differently. When I asked Fannie where her church was located, she explained that services were held in people’s homes every other week. She said that the service lasted nearly four hours and was all in German.

      Fannie, I didn’t know that you could speak German! My uncle was in Germany during the war, and can say a few things. Say something in German.

      Well, we actually speak Pennsylvania Dutch, she replied. We aren’t supposed to speak it here at school.

      When Halloween came, Fannie and the other Amish did not come to school on the day of our party. You missed a great time. I came as a hobo, like the ones who travel along the railroad. Were you guys sick?

      No, we just don’t celebrate everything that you English do. We have some different holidays, but we do have Christmas and Easter, Fannie explained.

      In November, Fannie missed several days. She returned to school anxious to tell me about the weddings that had taken place. She said that they usually wait until after the harvest to have weddings and that they were usually on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

      I’ll bet they get lots of presents, I guessed.

      Not really, replied Fannie. The couple goes around and visits homes in the days after the wedding. That’s when they are given gifts. That’s also when the husband begins to grow a beard.

      I think I read about that somewhere. It said that Amish men don’t grow mustaches because they were a military symbol in the old days. Why does that matter?

      We don’t believe in fighting wars. My dad says that long ago, when the Amish were still in Europe our people were persecuted by the armies. It was terrible. That’s why we don’t use buttons, too, because those soldiers did.

      It’s amazing how we are both Christians, but do things so differently, I said. But my mom says all Christians are the same when it comes to the really important stuff. Our new President is a Christian. As a Catholic, his ideas are different too. Do the Amish vote? I heard they didn’t.

      Fannie shook her head. Both my parents vote. We pay taxes too. Some people think we don’t have to pay. But we never take handouts from the government. When my grandparents got too old to live alone, they moved in with us.

      My grandparents lived with us until they passed away a couple years ago. They got Social Security from the government. My grandpa said he earned it.

      When our school Christmas party rolled around, I brought Fannie a pair of blue mittens that my mother had knitted. Fannie was out of school the whole week before vacation and missed our party. Mrs. Hoover explained that one of the Amish family’s barns had burned down and since they didn’t believe in carrying insurance, all the Amish families in the area and some from outside came together to build a new barn.

      When Fannie came back to school after the holidays, I gave her the mittens. She seemed pleased and reached in her desk and handed me a plainly wrapped package. We both laughed when I opened it. Her mother had knit me a pair of green mittens!

      When spring finally came, we had an Easter break. Fannie was excited because her family was going to visit relatives in Ohio. Do you ride in a buggy all the way to Ohio? I gasped. That must take forever.

      Oh no, laughed Fannie, We are allowed to pay people to take us on longer trips in cars. We just don’t own or drive them ourselves.

      I don’t really get that, I answered, What’s the difference?

      It’s just our way. I guess it’s also why our women never cut their hair. There must be something in the Bible about it. We can even figure out who we’ll marry by working with some Bible verses.

      Go on! I exclaimed. "You’ve got to show me

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