Hidden in Plain Sight

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Hidden in Plain Sight Page 2

by Karen Ann Hopkins


  I scanned the handwritten note, pausing on the writing in red ink. Bloody Rocks—Blood Rock. Amish. Amish was underlined in a darker scribble. I looked up.

  “Jim had assumed these notes, taken at the scene by a deputy, who was later killed in motorcycle accident, meant the rocks around the body were bloody. There had been testimony by one of Buddy’s coworkers about Amish boys working on the crew. Jim visited the neighboring Amish settlements, but never came up with anything. Recently, a woman approached him with new information. Stephanie mentioned to me that her husband had gone back to one of those communities after he spoke to the woman, and it was then—” he touched the words Blood Rock with his finger “—he realized that he’d misconstrued the meaning of these words. Jim had also scribbled the name, Jerimiah Suggs on the backside of the file at some point.”

  “This is all you have?” I handed the paper back to him.

  “I believe the person who killed Buddy was from this community…and there’s a good chance he came back here after he did it.” John stared at me as though it was a challenge.

  I glanced at Toby and he grinned back. “What better place to hide than among a group of people who all blend together in dress and manner and live so secretively?”

  He had a point, but it still seemed like searching for a needle in a haystack. And if we did find that needle, more than likely I’d be the one getting poked by it.

  One horse whinnied and another snorted when the team stopped alongside us. Giving some authenticity to Toby’s dress, he stepped up to the nearest horse and patted its sweaty neck.

  John hung back, looking behind the horses at the Amish man holding their reins. He was tall, wiry thin, and sported a long, bushy white beard. His suspenders hung loosely at his sides and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing jagged, red scars from shrapnel that had hit him in the same house explosion that injured my leg. His hat was a simple straw one, and beads of sweat dripped down the sides of his face. His white brows were equally thick, but his nearly black eyes squinting at us were the most startling aspect of his appearance.

  My mouth dropped at the sight of him in such a casual and messy state. Whenever I’d seen him in the past, he was always smartly dressed in a black hat and coat that made him look even more intimidating.

  “Well now, what brings Blood Rock’s sheriff out into my cornfield on such a fine day—and accompanied by guests?”

  I wasn’t fooled by his friendly tone. His eyes passed over the marshals, landing on me. A single brow arched and his lips tightened.

  Aaron Esch wasn’t a happy camper.

  2

  “Good morning, Bishop.” I flicked my hand at the marshals. “This is John Ruthers and Toby Bryant. They’re U.S. Marshals working a case that’s brought them to Blood Rock.” I took a quick breath. “Do you know anyone by the name of Jerimiah Suggs?”

  The bishop pursed his lips and scratched his chin through his thick beard. His facial expression confirmed he was speaking the truth when he answered, “No, I don’t recall the name. Suggs isn’t an Amish surname.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I agreed. “Perhaps you remember an Englisher by the name?”

  He shook his head. “Not off the top of my head.” He took a step closer, ignoring John’s and Toby’s curious gazes. “We’ve had enough tragedy lately to last a lifetime. The community is still recovering from Eli’s and Fannie’s deaths, and Ada Mae’s sins.” His brows scrunched. “Surely, these men don’t come bringing more hardship to my people.”

  I licked my dry lips and glanced at John. He took the cue and reached out his hand to the bishop, who took it in a firm handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Toby and I aren’t here to cause you any undue duress, I promise.” He exhaled, looking at one of the horses when it stomped its foot. I thought the marshal was taking the unorthodox location of the questioning well. “We’re working a cold case…regarding a murder that took place about fifteen years ago in Clay, Pennsylvania—”

  “That’s the northern part of Lancaster County, is it not?” the bishop interrupted.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact it is—not too far from one of the largest concentrations of Amish people outside of Ohio, and of course, here in Indiana.” John paused, tipping his head sideways.

  “Was the murdered person one of my people?” the bishop asked.

  John shook his head. “No—he was builder though, and it was brought to our attention he had a few Amish lads on his crew at the time of his death.” John’s brows arched. “Because of the secrecy in the neighborhood, it was difficult to get answers about the boys. As a matter of fact, after Buddy Prowes’ death, they disappeared into thin air.”

  I broke in. “You weren’t able to identify everyone on the vic’s crew?”

  “No, and believe me, we tried.” John turned his attention back to Aaron, and I rubbed my forehead, pressing into the thrumming of a beginning headache.

  I sympathized with the marshals. I knew firsthand how incredibly difficult it was to investigate a crime inside an Amish community. The culture was not only secretive, but it had an element of vigilantism I’d learned about on my first murder case in Blood Rock, too. The Amish protected their own—but they punished them as well.

  I saw the hint of a smile creep onto the bishop’s mouth, then it was gone. “I don’t see why you’re seeking me out. I’ve lived in this settlement for nearly forty years. Close to the time of this murder you’re talking about, I took the reins of bishop here. I don’t know anything about the crime.”

  “But you have visited Lancaster County on occasion, haven’t you, Mr. Esch?” Toby spoke up for the first time. It wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t address Aaron with his religious title. “And there have been youth from Blood Rock who’ve traveled to Pennsylvania to work or socialize throughout the years?” he added.

  The bishop shrugged. “For many of our young people, visiting other communities is part of growing up. As you said, they may travel to find work, but most often it’s to stretch their wings a bit and meet a suitable mate.” He smiled. “It’s one of the reasons our people have been moving into new areas, expanding our borders. We understand the need for our children to spread out and meet people who aren’t related too closely to them.”

  The conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn and I glanced away, staring down the newly tilled row. The smell of worms and dirt was heavy in the air, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, it became warmer. I shifted to allow a little more ventilation under my arms. Even with copious amounts of antiperspirant, it was impossible not to sweat in my black uniform jacket.

  “Some new information came to light that led us to believe that one or more of those boys may have been originally from here.” John’s face hardened. “Do you keep any kind of records of who comes and goes in your community?”

  The bishop barked out a laugh. “No, no. There are no records for such things. I’m afraid I can’t help you, Marshal.”

  John was about to speak when I touched his arm. “It’s all right. We understand.” I tipped my hat to the bishop. “We’ll get out your hair so you can finish plowing.”

  He looked back at me with a raised brow before he turned away. He’d only taken a couple of steps when he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “If any memories strike me, I’ll contact you, Sheriff.”

  “Thank you.” I motioned for the marshals to follow me back to my cruiser. Once we were seated in the car with the air conditioning blasted, I dropped my head back. “You didn’t actually think he’d come up with names and numbers for these boys you’re looking for?”

  John grunted and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “I believe we’re going to have a hot summer,” he said, almost to himself, then added, “There has to be a way to track the boys, find out who they were and hopefully even talk to them.”

  “Oh, there is, but I have to ask, do you think an Am
ish boy, or group of them, murdered Buddy?”

  John’s face scrunched. “I’ve learned through personal experience that anyone is capable of murder.” Our eyes met, and I knew we understood each other perfectly. “Where do we find our answers, Sheriff?”

  “A good place to start is with my boyfriend.” John’s eyes widened, and I added, “He used to be Amish.”

  John and Toby stood beside me as Daniel climbed down the ladder leaning against the house. He wore a gray t-shirt and blue jeans that hugged his butt. The jingle of tools on his belt didn’t distract me from noticing his bulging muscles. Heat fanned my cheeks and I hoped the marshals didn’t notice. Being around Daniel turned me into a hormonal teenager, even though we’d been dating long enough that his handsomeness shouldn’t affect me anymore. It was one of the reasons the relationship bothered me. I didn’t like the feeling of wanting someone so much it hurt. It made me vulnerable, and that was a place I didn’t like to be.

  His feet touched the ground and he strode over, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans. “What’s going on?” He frowned at me before shifting his eyes to the marshals. He extended his hand to John. “It’s good to see you again. Marshal Ruthers, right?”

  “Good memory.” He nodded to his partner. “Toby Bryant.”

  Daniel continued to look anxiously at me and I smiled in an attempt to ease his worry. I could hardly blame his reaction. Usually when I showed up unannounced at his workplace, someone was dead.

  “Mr. Bachman—” John began.

  “Call me Daniel—Mr. makes me feel older than I want to be.” He smiled tightly.

  John nodded briskly. “The sheriff was telling me you used to be Amish and grew up in the Blood Rock community.”

  “Yes, I did, but it’s been a long time. I’m probably not a very good source of information for a cold case investigation.”

  John ignored him. “We’re interested in the time period around 2000.”

  “I left the Amish a year earlier—went English. I’m sorry, but I didn’t have anything to do with the community until just recently.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “My folks took the shunning thing seriously.”

  John’s stance softened. “I can only imagine what that’s like.”

  Daniel looked away. I knew how difficult it was for him to talk about the first years after he was shunned. I cleared my throat. “Who can we talk to who might actually help us out on this? A man was brutally murdered—we need some answers.”

  His lips tightened and he blew out a breath. When he looked back, he was thoughtful. “You might try my sister, Rebecca. She likes you, Serenity—you saved her little girl twice, she might give you some information.”

  Toby’s brows rose and I wagged a finger at him. “It’s a long story. Are you boys up to driving back to the community this afternoon?”

  “Absolutely,” John replied. “Your ties to the Amish in this area are giving us more opportunities than we had back in Lancaster.”

  I grinned. “I guess you can say I’ve been sucked into their intrigue on both a professional and personal level.” My stomach growled and I hoped no one heard. “But first, why don’t we get some lunch? There’s a diner in town with excellent bacon cheeseburgers.” My smile deepened. “It will give us the opportunity to go over the case, and for me to look through the file Jim put together.”

  John and Toby exchanged glances. I could see the wordless exchange between the two. The cowboy was more relaxed than John, who was older and did things by the book. He didn’t seem so sure about sharing information.

  After an awkward pause in conversation, Toby spoke up. “Sounds wonderful, Sheriff. I’m so hungry I could eat an entire cow.”

  “Then Nancy’s is the place for you.” I looked at Daniel. “Do you want to join us?”

  “Naw. I’ve got a couple of new crewman I should keep an eye on. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. We have to finish this roof.”

  I stared at Daniel through my sunglasses. What he said seemed perfectly reasonable, but I still didn’t like being blown off. He wasn’t a lawman, although he’d helped me with several investigations regarding the Amish. I got the impression from his rigid posture that he felt left out of this one.

  “I’ll see you for dinner?” I asked.

  “Of course.” He bent down and planted a firm kiss on my lips, before nodding to the marshals and heading back to the ladder.

  The kiss and the promise of dinner lightened my mood, but when I saw the smirk on the cowboy’s lips, I bristled. “We all have personal lives.”

  Toby snorted and flicked his thumb at John. “Not with this partner—no personal life here.”

  John rolled his eyes. “There’s time for a life later, after the case is solved.”

  “That’s why you’re fifty-something, never married and no kids—there’s always another case,” Toby snickered.

  We walked back to the car in silence, but when I grasped the door handle, I stopped and looked at John. “Sometimes, in this line of work, all we have is today.”

  “Well said,” Toby replied before ducking into the back seat. He winked at me, but he wasn’t smiling. He was all too aware that in this business, any day might be our last.

  3

  I scanned the death report again and then dropped it on the table to take a sip from my cola. Toby and Todd conversed in hushed tones about the armed robbery that had taken place several weeks earlier at the bank across the street from the diner. John met my gaze when I looked over.

  “I didn’t see any mention of Jerimiah Suggs anywhere else in the file, other than scribbled on the back of it, like you said. You couldn’t find anyone in the area by that name?”

  John shook his head. “We came up empty.”

  My eyes drifted to the window and the sunny street with men and women bustling about in their business clothes. The town and the Amish settlement were remarkably quiet, making me wonder if something bad was about to happen. I’d learned the hard way that tranquility didn’t last long around here.

  “Did you consider that he jotted the name down for an unrelated matter—maybe he needed something to write on and the file was the only thing available?”

  John chuckled. “That would be something, wouldn’t it? He drew in a sharp breath. “Jim was a meticulous kind of guy—and he knew he was dying. He would’ve been careful to cross out the name if that were the case. Since he didn’t, I assume he felt it was important enough to remember.”

  “The brutal nature of the attack points to it being very personal.” I met his steady gaze. “This wasn’t a random killing. The perpetrator had a close relationship with Buddy.”

  John swirled his finger around the rim of his iced tea. “I agree, and so did Jim. He interviewed family members, close friends and the coworkers he could track down.” He lifted a brow and shrugged slightly. “Buddy was one of those people you either loved or hated. There wasn’t much of an in-between with him.”

  “He had enemies?”

  “Sure, too many to count, but he was a big, burly man, known for a foul temper and violent episodes. Most people didn’t mess with him.”

  Tony Manning, the former Sheriff of Blood Rock and my nemesis, popped into my mind. “Yeah, I know the type. What about relatives? What was his personal life like?”

  “He was recently divorced at the time of his death. The investigation turned up leads to several men, who his ex—Samantha Prowes—might have been sleeping with, but nothing concrete. Sammy was known to have a hot temper herself, but she usually ended up more battered than he did.”

  “It says here—” I shuffled through the papers until I found the right one “—she had a restraining order against him and yet he was murdered only two hundred yards from her house.” I leaned back in the booth. “I think it’s fairly safe to assume there’s a connection.”

  “Jim thought so, but never
had a breakthrough in that direction.” John’s eyes flicked up at Nancy when she appeared at the end of the booth, balancing a tray filled with our orders.

  Todd pushed his cola out of the way for Nancy to have room to deposit his plate. “Looks like the lunch rush hour began early this morning,” he commented, plucking a fry off his plate and popping it into his mouth.

  Nancy placed the remaining orders in front of us and bent over the table. She jerked her head towards a booth closer to the stool-lined counter. “There’s a new Amish fellow in town.” She lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder. John gazed up at the redheaded woman expectantly. “Joshua Miller is his name. He’s a dreamy one. They’re having some kind of meeting over there.”

  I elbowed Todd to lean further back so I could see around him. Nancy wasn’t lying about the newcomer’s good looks, but my gaze didn’t stay with him for long. My body tensed and my blood turned cold when I saw who he was sitting with.

  “Thanks for pointing him out to me, Nancy.” I turned back to John and Toby who sat across the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

  “Of course,” John said. Toby’s brows arched and Todd rolled his. My deputy officer had the same reaction whenever anything with the Amish came up.

  I slid past Todd when he stood and stepped out of the booth. Nancy sidled up to me and whispered, “Should I prepare for some excitement?” She spoke cheerfully, but the twitch at the corner of her mouth told me she was concerned.

  I placed a hand on her shoulder. “No worries. Just a friendly chat.”

  Elayne Weaver was the first to spot my approach. Her pretty face lit up. “Serenity, it’s good to see you. I heard you were back to work—I meant to stop by your office last week, but I’ve been so busy getting settled into the new job.”

  Even though we’d made our peace, the assistant DA’s feminine, overly perky voice grated my nerves. The fact that she used to be Amish and had a crush on Daniel when they were teenagers didn’t help either. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t stop a knot from forming in my stomach every time I saw her.

 

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