"Murdered by fresh apple pie? . . . What a way to die!"
Reviewed by Viki Ferrell
Posted May 30, 2015
Amish | Mystery Amateur Sleuth
As MURDER FRESHLY BAKED opens, Amber Bowman, manager of
Amish Village in Middlebury, Indiana, watches Ryan Duval
cross the finish line of Race for a Cure, then fall dead
from a gunshot wound to his chest. It's happening all over
again! This is the third death/murder of the year. Can
Amber face another investigation?
Flash back several weeks earlier when Amber is called to
the bakery to check out a note left with a pie. The note
states, in really bad poetry, that poison has been slipped
into it. That same day Amber receives a disturbing email
saying something similar. Over the next few days more
notes
and pies are left in various shops throughout the village
and more emails arrive. Amber is very disturbed and
enlists
the help of her friend and coffee shop manager, Hannah
Troyer, to help her figure this out. Of course she goes to
the police as well, but Amber and Hannah have a history of
being amateur sleuths. Where will their personal
investigations lead them this time?
Ryan Duval is a playboy, dating three women at the same
time, all of whom work in Amish Village. Two of them are
Amish and one is Englisch. Did one of them kill him, or is
his death related to the note and pies?
Vannetta Chapman masterfully weaves several subplots into
this well-crafted inspirational story and brings it all
together at the end in a very beautiful way. There are
many
characters in this Amish-Englisch community who live and
work together side by side. You almost need a glossary to
know who's who. However, enough information is given about
previous stories to help you understand the characters'
relationships.
MURDER FRESHLY BAKED is a story about change
and growing up, about trusting God with the details of our
lives and about God healing the broken pieces. Ms. Chapman
also addresses one of Amber's employees having PTSD and
the
use of service dogs to help them through their healing
process. This is the third book in Ms. Chapman's Amish
Village series. She's one of my favorite authors.
SUMMARY
When delicious baked goods become lethal, it’s
time
to find a killer. Kindness is a virtue
Meanness is a
sin
Better watch your bakery
pies
For poison I've slipped in The Amish Artisan Village in Middlebury, Indiana, has
been
decorated with every color of balloon and flower for the
Race for a Cure. As manager of the Village, Amber Bowman
is
thrilled to see the turnout—and relieved to have
something
to distract her from the “Poison Poet”—an individual who
has
been sending notes containing bad poetry to warn of
poisoned
baked goods. Then Ryan Duvall crosses the finish line of the race—and
falls down dead, murdered in broad daylight. But who did
it?
And why? The police suspect Preston Johnston, but Amber
refuses to believe her employee could do such a thing. Amber once again looks to her young Amish friend Hannah
Troyer to help her find the killer—and to determine if
it’s
the same person leaving the cryptic poems and pies. Can
they
help the police before the Poison Poet strikes again?
Both
Amber and Hannah will need to draw on their faith as they
fight to preserve the peaceful community they’ve built at
the Amish Artisan Village.
ExcerptTate pulled the camera strap from around his neck and handed the camera to Hannah as
he rushed forward. Amber and Tate reached Ryan’s side at the same moment. Shrugging
off his outer shirt, Tate rolled it into a bundle and pressed it against what was left
of Ryan’s chest.
“Pressure on the wound,” Tate murmured, waiting to move until Amber had her hands
pressed firmly on top of the cloth.
She glanced down at the wound in Ryan’s chest, then looked away as bile rose in her
throat. Slowly she forced her gaze back to the man lying on the ground. Ryan’s wavy
black hair was wet with sweat. His face was unnaturally pale, and his eyes were
closed.
“Is he—”
“He’s bleeding out. Looks like the bullet went through his heart. I’ll check for a
pulse.” But one look in Tate’s eyes told her all she needed to know.
The white T-shirt Ryan had been wearing read “Forty and Loving It.” The letters were
splattered and torn from the violence of the wound, and the cloth had turned crimson.
Tate moved so that he was positioned alongside Ryan’s head. Pressing his index and
middle fingers to Ryan’s neck, he checked for a heartbeat at the carotid artery.
The sounds around them faded to background noise.
To Amber it seemed she heard the cries and shouts as if from a great distance. Some
woman continued to scream. A child asked a parent what was wrong. The person who had
been running the portable public address system, moments ago announcing the names of
each person as they crossed the finish line, now urged caution. The piercing wail of
an ambulance added to the chaos. It had been stationed in the parking area in case a
runner needed oxygen or fluids.
But fluids wouldn’t help Ryan.
Oxygen wouldn’t bring him back.
She closed her eyes and
prayed with all her might—prayed that God would have mercy on Ryan, that God would
save him.
She became aware of Pam’s hand on her shoulder, her voice soft and low, her accent
Southern, urging her to come away. “Let the paramedics have him, honey.”
“I have to . . . I have to hold this.” Tate’s shirt was now slick in her hands.
Tate stood and shook his head once. Jack Lambright, who had worked at the Village as a
boy but had been with the EMS for at least five years now, jumped out of the ambulance
and crouched beside Ryan. He spoke into his radio, his voice urgent and clipped. She
heard him say “GSW” and “fatality,” and then Tate was pulling her to her feet,
circling his arms around her.
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