Free Plainly Murder: A Penguin Special from Obsidian by Isabella Alan Page B

turned as icy as the famous sculptor’s medium. “I’ve already given him a deposit, a nonrefundable deposit, so you will have a life-size ice sculpture of you and Ryan, and you will love it.”
    Heaven help me.
    “Let’s talk about this when I get home, okay?” There was nothing I could do about the ice sculpture hundreds of miles away.
    “Okay, honey, I knew you’d come around. Now, give my sister a hug for me and make sure she gets some rest.”
    “I will,” I promised and hung up.
    Maybe I could compromise with my mother somehow. I turned to Oliver, who had rolled onto his back. Maybe super ice-sculpture man could make a life-size replica of Oliver instead of the one of Ryan and me. Now that would be cute.
    “Did I hear my sister correctly? There will be a life-size ice sculpture of you and Ryan at the wedding?” My aunt hid a smile behind her hand.
    “Not if I can help it.”
    “Being Amish looks pretty
gut
to you right now, doesn’t it?” she asked.
    It did. “I think it’s time we head to the bike shop.”
    •   •   •
    Dudek Bike Company sat on a hillside on Route Thirty-nine, ten miles south of Millersburg. Several empty snow-covered bike racks circled the building. The bikes were inside for the season. If business was slow in the winter for the Amish on Sugartree Street, it was abysmal for a bike shop. My car was the only vehicle in the parking lot and that was counting the Amish buggies. Being the only car there, I parked right next to the door, so my aunt would only have to take a few short steps.
    When I pulled on the door handle, it opened easily, and Aunt Eleanor, Oliver, and I shuffled inside.
    “Hello there,” a deep voice called from somewhere inside the store. “Be up front in a minute.”
    “Take your time,” I called back as I surveyed the front of the store. Rims, seats, and handlebars hung from pegs on the wall. A ten-speed sat on a tarp in pieces, being taken apart or put back together, I couldn’t be sure. Oliver sniffed a bike chain and got black grease on his nose. I fished a tissue out of my purse and tried to clean it off with the same care a mother would wipe her three-year-old child’s face.
    “Angie, the salesmen are here,” my aunt whispered.
    I stood and found two men, wearing matching hunter green polo shirts with “Dudek Bike Company” embroidered on the breast pockets, standing in front of me. It was clear they were brothers, but not just because of their matching outfits. They had the same build, dark hair, and thin mustaches. I couldn’t decide if they were twins or just close in age.
    “Welcome to our store,” the one on the right said.
    “Yes, welcome, welcome,” the other added. “Who do we have here?” He stooped to peer at Oliver, who cowardly hid behind me.
    “That’s my dog, Oliver,” I said.
    “Oh, he’s a handsome devil,” the man gushed.
    His brother elbowed him. “You shouldn’t say something like that in front of an Amish lady.” He bowed his head in front of my aunt. “I’m truly sorry. Glenn has no manners whatsoever.”
    Glenn folded his arms. “It’s just an expression, Greg, and I have more manners in my left pinkie than you do in your entire body.”
    “Oh, please. You don’t even know what a fish fork is—”
    “Excuse me, guys?” I said. If I let them keep going, who knew how long we would be there, and I, for one, didn’t want the scent of bike tires permeating my clothes for the rest of my time in Holmes County.
    Glenn wiped the bike grease from his hands onto a dirty rag. “You will excuse us, Miss. We get caught up from time to time.”
    “That we do,” Greg agreed. “Since you have such a nice looking dog, we are prepared to give you a deal.”
    “That’s right,” Glenn said. “Half off any bike.”
    Behind them, there was a large banner that said, “Half Off Sale.”
    I pointed to it. “I’m special?” I arched an eyebrow.
    Greg laughed. “Can’t pull a fast one on you.”
    “Guess