3 x 3, p.1
3 X 3, page 1
3 X 3
THE PORCH SWING MYSTERIES
BOOK 3
PATRICK E. CRAIG
COPYRIGHT
Cover by Cora Graphics Simona Cora Salardi
www.coragraphics.it
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
3 X 3
Copyright © 2024 by Patrick E. Craig
Published by P&J Publishing
P.O. Box 73
Huston, Idaho 83630
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-publications Data
Craig, Patrick E., 1947-
3 X 3 / Patrick E. Craig
ISBN 979-8-9871451-6-6 (pbk.)
ISBN 979-8-9871451-5-9 (ebook)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
Praise for The Porch Swing Mysteries
Dedication
Acknowledgement
A Note from Patrick E. Craig
1. Number One
2. Apple Creek Dreams
3. Number Two
4. Home Again
5. Number Three
6. Suspects
7. Letter From The Past
8. Daylight
9. Call for Help
10. Questions
11. New Inquiries
12. Missy
13. Liz
14. What Happened?
15. Old Wounds
16. The Hiding Place
17. Secrets
18. In the Woods
19. The Past Speaks
20. The Truth Will Set You Free
21. Aldon
22. Wrapping the Case
23. The End…
About the Author
More Books by Patrick E.Craig
The Apple Creek Dreams Series
The Paradise Chronicles Series
The Islands Series with Murray Pura
Praise for Patrick E. Craig’s Books
PRAISE FOR THE PORCH SWING MYSTERIES
3 X 3
The title of this book, 3 X 3, intrigued me from the beginning, because I thought it was a mistake. But it is an integral part of the plot, and makes sense as the reader gets further into the book. The twists and turns of discovery kept me turning pages long into the night to find out all the answers. The Amish “Miss Marple”, Jenny Hershberger, does her magic and figures out the mystery of “who dunnit” with straightforward no nonsense thinking. The writing is clear and direct, without a lot of extraneous fluff to make up a word count. I enjoyed this book and look forward to more of Craig’s work.
TENNEY COULON SINGER
Have you ever been on the edge of your seat as you watch a spellbinding movie? Well, the new book by Patrick E. Craig, 3 X 3, gives you that same sense of foreboding. This story is so well crafted you forget you are reading a book. No, you are actually sitting in that movie theater holding your popcorn just waiting for the bucket to fly out of your hand as the screams fill the room.
CHERESE AKHAVEIN
THE BOY IN BLUE DENIM
Craig is able to skillfully combine the twists and turns of an Agatha Christie-Miss Marple murder mystery, and its suspense and edginess, with the rustic beauty of the Amish world and the aura of romance and peace that rests like a summer dew on its farms and homesteads. A page-turner not to be missed by fans of Amish fiction or fans of well-written murder mysteries both. A splendid effort by a seasoned author who excels at every genre he puts his hand to.
MURRAY PURA CIBA, WORD GUILD, SELAH AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR
You could call it Amish fiction on steroids! The Boy in Blue Denim is a page-turner for sure. I have always liked the author’s style and thoroughness of research, but this time he brought it to a new level. His characters are engaging and interesting. Their lives are intertwined in ways you would not expect. I read the book in two sittings because each page demanded I find out more. There are twists and turns you will not be expecting, and I suspect you won’t want to put it down either!
CONNIE PORTER
THE QUILT THAT KNEW
Patrick E. Craig has once again written a book that will take you deep into the heart of Amish country. The Quilt That Knew is a delightful and intriguing plain and simple mystery.
VANNETTA CHAPMAN, USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
The Quilt That Knew is another great book by Patrick E. Craig. Jenny Hershberger and Bobby Halverson from the Apple Creek Dreams series are back, but now they are working on a cold murder case. This book had you sitting on the edge of your seat trying to figure out “who done it.” Once I started reading it I could not put it down until I finished it. There were so many surprises and twists. First the dead girl in the box, then another dead body found in the woods, and finally the drug overdose of a main suspect. And when Jenny and Bobby start looking at these clues, mysterious things start to happen. This is a “must read” for everyone. I loved this book.
KAY LEATHERS WINGO
So, how good is The Quilt That Knew? Well, I read it straight through in a day! And it’s a great start to what will surely be a wonderful mystery series! And my favorite line:
“And I was thinking that the Amish community is not the peachy-keen, perfect world that most people think it is, especially those Englischers who buy those ‘Amish fiction’ books off the shelf at Walmart. Amish fiction, indeed!”
And, perhaps, my friends, that line best encapsulates what Patrick Craig does best—pure and honest portrayals of the Amish as people with real passions and faults, and not the idealistic fantasies of so many others. And that, is refreshing.
SCOTT R. REZER — AUTHOR OF THE BUTCHER’S BRIDE, THE LEPER KING AND LOVE ABIDETH STILL
DEDICATION
Dedicated to my wife, Judy, who once again has labored alongside me to make this book the best it can be.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I would like to take the opportunity here to acknowledge a few of the men and women who have been intrumental in my development as an author.
First, to those who have passed: Zane Grey, Louis L’Amour, Harper Lee, Ken Kesey, Mark Twain, J.R.R. Tolkein, C.S. Lewis, Agatha Christie, William Shakespeare.
Then to those present: Murray Pura, Vannetta Chapman, Nick Harrison, James Scott Bell, Tim Riter, Jerry Jenkins.
A NOTE FROM PATRICK E. CRAIG
Over the course of two Porch Swing Mysteries, Jenny Hershberger has established herself as the Amish Miss Marple.
In the first book Jenny solved the mystery of The Quilt That Knew, the case of a missing girl found buried in a box in the woods forty years after her disappearance. Then she solved the perplexing case of a little lost boy who was murdered in book two, The Boy In Blue Denim.
Now she is back in book three, 3 X 3, and is facing the most dangerous killer she has so far encountered.
Jenny Hershberger has moved to Apple Creek, the small Amish Village in Wayne County, Ohio, where she spent her childhood, She has purchased her family home and hopes to find peace there.
But then a horrific new mystery comes her way. Three random killings, all marked by the bloody signature of a ruthless serial killer, electrify the little town of Wooster, Ohio. Elbert Wainwright, Jenny’s counterpart on the Wooster police force, puts his team to work and quickly hunts down the man they think is responsible—a mentally disabled Vietnam War vet. All the evidence points to Steven Lambright.
But when Elbert calls Jenny and her old friend, retired sheriff Bobby Halverson, to help, the case against Lambright starts to go south as Jenny discovers there is much more to the story than meets the eye. One by one, Jenny uncovers secrets hidden for forty years, secrets deeply connected to the Amish community. And as she brings them to light, Jenny finds the past can reveal much about the present—in terrifying ways.
Patrick E. Craig
1
NUMBER ONE
An exceedingly dull day. Way too hot.
Detective Gary Linden sat in his office at the Wooster police station. Outside through the half-open Venetian blinds, a glaring sun shone feebly through the dusty mid-Ohio harvest haze. The 92 degree temperature paralyzing Wooster was wholly out of character for a late August day and Gary could hear the ancient AC in the attic above laboring to keep up. The occasional sweat drop running down into his once-pressed collar let him know the machine was not doing its job. The phone rang.
“Detective Linden.”
“Hey, Gary, John Ashe.”
“John! What’s up?”
“It’s 4:52 p.m. on an unusually hot Thursday in Wooster and I thought you might be up for a couple of cold brewskis down at Muddy’s when you close up over there.”
Gary nodded his head. “That sounds like a glorious end to a very dull day. Let’s meet around…”
The door cracked open and the office girl’s head poked through… then her hand—from which protruded several pieces of mail. “Elbert sent these over for you to look through, Detective… if you have time, of course.”
“Sure. I always have time for Lieutenant Wainwright.”
Gary counted the envelopes.
Five. One minute per envelope, add ten minutes in case paperwork is involved… ten minutes to get out of here, ten minutes to Muddy’s…
“John?”
“Yeah, bro.”
“How does 5:45 sound? Some last minutes just walked through the door.”
“Okay, see you there. I’ll start without you.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
Charlene gave him her trademark smirk as she handed him the stack. “You might be a little late, Detective.”
“Uh, how long have you had these on your desk, Charlene?”
Charlene smiled demurely. “Why, since the mail came this morning.”
“And you didn’t bring them right up because…?”
A shrug, the pouty look. “Well, you know how Lieutenant Wainwright keeps me busy…”
Gary shook his head. He gives you longer coffee breaks if you torment me…
He began sorting through the stack, checking the return addresses.
The Mahoning Valley Scrappers—probably looking for some off-duty cops to do security.
He zipped it open with his letter opener and scanned it.
Yep. I’ll put this one up on the bulletin board.
The second letter was junk mail.
The third letter, addressed in all capital, hand-printed letters, read, “TO THE SMARTEST COP IN WOOSTER—IF THERE IS ONE!”
He set it aside and looked at the other two pieces. Another mailer, this one from a window coverings company, and an invitation to test some new hearing aids for a free dinner. Trash can. Then Gary picked up the hand-addressed envelope and opened it. Inside was a single eight-and-a-half inch by eleven-inch sheet, folded three times. Gary unfolded it. There was a brief laser-printed note.
I am going to kill three women. The first will be soon. Springs is here. 3 X 3
Gary read it again.
Who would send us this stuff? And he misspelled Spring.
Gary read the letter one more time, re-folded it, and put it back in the envelope.
Boy, some people need to get out more often.
He took out the request for off-duty cops at the baseball stadium, gathered up the remaining mail, leaned over the corner of his desk and dropped them all in the trash. Then he got up, walked out into the hall to the bulletin board, pinned up the note from the Scrappers, and went back into his office. He put his things away, put his department-issued Glock in the drawer, and went to the door. His hand went to the light switch, but he paused. Something…
Gary went back to the trash can and fished out the murder threat envelope, looked at the scrawled address one more time and then put it in the bottom side drawer of his desk.
I better hang on to it in case Elbert asks me about it.
Then he left.
Gary’s buddy, John, was two beers down the road when Gary got to Muddy’s. They moved from the bar to a booth. The waitress ambled over and took his order.
“Corona Extra with a lime slice and could you put it in the freezer for five minutes before you bring it?”
John grinned. “When you want an ice cold beer, you mean it.”
In five minutes, the beer came. It was cold enough that the beer half-froze around the lime slice.
A cold one!
Gary sat, enjoying it.
John pulled out a pack of Camels and offered one to Gary, who declined. “So, what’s new at Wooster Central, Gary, ol’ pal?”
“Not much. Lieutenant Wainwright has something against me, I think. Anyway, he keeps sending the office tart into my space with all kinds of ‘extra’ stuff to do, at the last minute, of course. Answer mail, call the help center to see how they are doing, review the work tapes of the 911 operators—real high-end stuff. And every bit has zero meaning attached.”
“But, nothing skanky or weird?”
“Well… I got a strange letter today. They addressed it to the smartest cop in Wooster.”
John laughed. “Well, at least they gave it to you. What was in it?”
“Typical off-the-wall letter stuff. ‘I’m going to murder three women, and the first one will be soon.’ The odd thing was it also said ‘Springs is here.’”
John shook his head. “Just some nut-ball. Can’t even get the seasons straight.”
The white van pulled into a parking space on the road to the park. The driver turned off the motor and waited.
The young woman parked her bike at the entrance to Grosjean Park. She carefully put the steel cable bike lock through one of the bicycle stands provided for hikers and then through the front wheel of her bike. She took the small backpack from the back of the bike and slipped her bare arms through the loops. White shorts, a blue short-sleeved button-up blouse and hiking boots. She wore a blue baseball cap with her ponytail pulled through between the cap and the size-adjusting strap. Pretty, athletic looking, she checked the bike lock one more time and then headed up the trail for Johnson Springs.
The driver of the van waited for a few minutes and then got out. Tall, dressed for summer, with a broad-brimmed safari hat pulled low over his eyes and hiding his face, he walked up the same path the girl had taken and disappeared into the woods.
The girl walked about fifteen minutes until she came to the sign pointing to Johnson Springs. It was an enchanted spot where two or three year-round springs bubbled up through the limestone formations so prevalent in the park. Clear and pure, they ran together and then dropped over a short limestone ledge into a deep pool before twisting their way down the hill and emptying into Apple Creek. This was her special place, and she came here often. She took off her pack and her shoes and then sat at the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. It was delicious. Cold.
She didn’t hear the footsteps until the person was right behind her. She turned, looking straight into the afternoon sun. She could barely see the face because of the afternoon light behind it, but she recognized it. A little tinge of fear, but she spoke.
“Hello. Nice day, isn’t it? I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? Down in the parking lot…”
There was the sound of feet rustling the fallen leaves, then a gasp and feet splashing in the water… kicking, a muffled shriek…
Then silence.
Saturday morning in Wooster, still hot. Detective Linden did not like the fact that his phone was ringing at 7:30 in the morning of his day off. He let it go to the answering machine.
“Linden! This is Lieutenant Wainwright. I need you down at Grosvenor Park. We have a murder on our hands. At Johnson Springs.”
Detective Gary Linden sat bolt upright in his bed and grabbed the phone before the Lieutenant could hang up.
“This is Linden, Lieutenant Wainwright. Sorry, I was occupied.”
“Did you hear my message?”
“Yes, a murder? At Johnson springs?”
“That’s right. I’m heading over now. Meet you there.”
“I have to stop by the office. There’s something I have to show you.”
“Okay, but make it quick.”
Gary found two police cars with lights flashing, an ambulance, and Lieutenant Wainwright’s Suburban parked in the lot at the trailhead. A uniformed officer waited at the head of the trail. He pointed.
“The Lieutenant is about a hundred yards up the trail.”
Gary took to the path and walked the short distance to the scene. Crime tape surrounded the clearing that faced the Springs and Lieutenant Wainwright huddled with Dr. Wilkins, the department’s forensic pathologist. They were kneeling by a body. Elbert stood up as Gary approached.
