Hidden in Plain Sight

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  “You didn’t give me a chance to answer,” I said quietly.

  He whirled around. His face was still as stone, but his eyes had brightened.

  I made a snapping noise. “I’m sorry I messed the whole thing up—I was surprised. I thought you’d be pissed at me for going out of town this weekend. A marriage proposal was the last thing I was expecting.”

  “Well?” He held out his hand, unfurling his fingers.

  The ring was small in his large, calloused palm, but it glistened with the energy of his love. More tears spilled from my eyes and I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

  My breath shuddered out of my chest. “Yes, Daniel. I’ll marry you.”

  He slid the ring onto my finger in a quick motion, like he was afraid I’d change my mind if he took too long. It fit perfectly and I stared down at it with wide eyes. “It’s beautiful,” I managed to say before his arms encircled me.

  It was a bone-crushing hug and Daniel’s own tears dampened my neck as he buried his face there. Normally, a guy crying would have freaked me out, but this time, I was all right with it.

  When he finally loosened his hold and leaned back, he was smiling.

  I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “I hope you’re okay with a long engagement?”

  He laughed. “I want to do it next week.”

  My mouth dropped open and I felt the blood drain from my face. “Seriously?”

  He swooped down and picked me up. Before I could protest, he nuzzled my cheek. “Darling, you can have as long an engagement as you want—as long as you keep that ring on your finger—and move in with me.”

  I was able to breathe normally again and I grinned. “I can agree to that.”

  His mouth came down on mine and his tongue slipped between my lips. In a display of impressive coordination, he carried me into the house and closed the door behind us without interrupting the kiss.

  When he dropped me onto the bed and crawled on top of me, I really regretted agreeing to help the marshals out with the Buddy Prowes’ investigation.

  The last thing I wanted to do was leave Daniel now.

  7

  I slunk along behind the marshals, barely paying attention to the activity around us. The afternoon was cloudy and thick with humidity. The darkening sky threatened rain, and I hoped a passing shower would cool things down.

  Pulling an elastic band from my jean pocket, I finger combed my blonde hair into a ponytail. Since I wasn’t the sheriff in this town, I was comfortable in jeans and a button up, casual blouse. But my 9 mm Glock was securely attached to my calf. I never went anywhere without it.

  Toby had shed his jacket in the car. He wore the same cowboy hat and boots, and carried his sidearm visible at his hip like a gunslinger. It worked with his swaggering walk that would have fit perfectly in the Wild West.

  I was impressed that John still had on his suit jacket, although he’d lost the tie. I knew his weapon was holstered across his chest. He slowed his purposeful stride. “How are we going to find our man in this crowd?”

  “Trust me, they all know each other. We’ll find him,” I said.

  Toby eyed me with the same incredulous look. On both sides of us, vendors were lined up in the grass along a gravel roadway that led up into a giant white barn. Some English people were sprinkled among the tables, but mostly Amish men, women and children were selling everything from jars of honey and jams to furniture and hand tools. There were also animals—tons of animals. Pigs were crowded into crates, and ponies and miniature goats were tied to the back of buggies with homemade wooden signs advertising their prices.

  I paused in front of a row of cages stacked high. Rabbits looked out with twitching noses and chickens flapped their wings. I never knew so many different kinds of each existed. And then there were the puppies—fat, cuddly, adorable puppies everywhere. John had to urge Toby and me onward twice after we couldn’t resist stopping to ooh and ah over infant cocker spaniels and labradoodles.

  “The Amish are notorious for their puppy mills.” John wrinkled his nose at a box full of hound puppies.

  “Don’t you like dogs?” I asked him.

  His eyes flashed. “I love ‘em. That’s why it bothers me to see so many here today. They can’t possibly all be sold to good homes. Most will end up in shelters or worse yet, at the bottom of a pond.”

  I grabbed his arm, tugging him to a stop. “Are you serious?”

  He shook his head. “Wish I wasn’t. My mother is a huge animal activist. She volunteers at our local shelter and knows all about these mass breeders.” He broke into a smile. “Believe me, if Mom was here, she’d be giving these people a hard time.”

  “I like your mother already.” I lifted my brows.

  Toby leaned over. “She makes a mean chicken-n-dumplings, too.”

  John blushed. “Maybe you’ll get to meet her someday, Sheriff. She does love to cook.”

  “I’ll plan on it, after we get our man.”

  “I really like a woman who knows what she wants.” Toby winked at me, and then I was the one blushing.

  I wasn’t deceived by his boyish charm. Underneath the wide grin and twinkling blue eyes, he was a sharp shooter—the type who never missed, and never regretted his shots.

  “Leave her alone. She’s engaged,” John scolded.

  “Only recently.” Toby snickered.

  My stomach clenched and I cleared my throat. “How did you know that?”

  Toby motioned to my hand. “You weren’t wearing any bling yesterday, but today there’s a giant rock on your finger.” His smile turned into a smirk. “Was Daniel a little jealous about you taking a trip out of state with us this weekend?”

  My face heated to an uncomfortable degree and I glared back at Toby. He reminded me a lot of Todd, having the same inappropriate flirty personality in the workplace. But I’d been plagued by my first deputy since middle school, and he could get away with the teasing. This cowboy was acting too familiar for the short time I’d known him, but I was impressed by his observation skills. If he wasn’t so annoying, I’d want him working for me in Blood Rock.

  I took a step into his personal space and he held his ground, although he leaned back slightly. I pointed my finger into his chest. “My personal life is none of your business.”

  John interrupted before Toby could respond with more than a feigned look of surprise that asked Why are you picking on me?

  “Now that you two got that out of your systems, let’s find this guy,” John said.

  Toby fanned out his arm, directing me to take the lead. I passed by without looking back.

  A white-bearded Amish man with a cage full of doves caught my eye. No one was with him and he looked bored, staring at the throng of people passing by his table.

  “Excuse me, the birds are lovely. How much are they?” I pressed my finger against the cage to touch a white feather sticking out.

  “Twenty-five dollars for a single and forty for a pair,” he replied.

  His English was forced and I realized he was one of the Amish who didn’t talk to outsiders much.

  I nodded and as smoothly as I could transition the conversation, I asked, “When we stopped by Seth Hershberger’s house, his son told us his father would be here selling Australian shepherds. Do you know where he’s set up?”

  The old man pointed. “He has them at his buggy, around back, behind the barn.” He covered the side of his mouth as if telling a secret. “He doesn’t have to pay the vendor fee that way.”

  I nodded and forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  We took the most direct path, straight through the barn, squeezing through the crowd, not pausing to look at any more animals. Although I did slow a little at the pen with the baby pigs. They were black and white, and one of them was squealing. It was an awful sound and I wanted
to make sure the little beast wasn’t being hurt.

  We stepped through the doors on the other side of the barn just as it began to sprinkle. The drizzle only made the air feel thicker.

  I spotted a man with a long brown beard leaning against a crate in between a buggy and wagon. I jutted my chin towards the man, and John and Toby followed my gaze.

  The speckled puppies squirmed in the crate when I peeked in. A fluffy brown and white one jumped up, whining at me. I couldn’t resist reaching in to stroke its head.

  “Here—you should hold her. She’s lonely, misses her mama,” the man said.

  He plucked the pup up and thrust her into my hands before I could object. She wiggled until I pressed her warm body against my chest. The wonderful smell of puppy breath filled my nose. It had been a long time since I’d held a puppy, and the weight of it in my arms felt nice.

  Toby knelt beside the crate, petting the others in turn, but John was all business. “Are you Seth Hershberger?”

  The man’s gaze shot in John’s direction, but he recovered quickly. He thrust his hand out to shake John’s. “Why yes, I am.” He paused. “Have we met?”

  “I’m Marshal John Ruthers and this is my partner, Toby Bryant.” He nodded at me. “Serenity is a consultant on a case we’re working on.”

  Seth features tightened, but he retained a pleasant tone. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

  I thought it was an odd question coming from an Amish man. I half expected him to make a run for it, and the last thing I wanted to do was drop the puppy to chase the lanky man through the crowd.

  “No, no. We just want to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right?” John asked.

  “Of course. What’s it about?”

  “Bobby Prowes.” John paused. If I had to guess, I’d say he was waiting for the impact of the name to settle over Seth.

  Seth’s face widened in recognition. “I haven’t heard that name in forever.”

  “So you know the man?” John asked.

  “Sure, I worked for him when I was—” he lifted his eyes, as if searching his memory “—about eighteen. He had a building crew—young men mostly—both English and Amish.”

  I hugged the puppy closer, shielding her the best I could from the light rain. I relaxed, blowing out a quiet breath. I was glad this Amish man was being open about his involvement with Buddy. He certainly didn’t seem to have anything horrible to hide.

  He took off his hat, wiped his brow and replaced it. “For a minute there, I thought you were one of those animal rights people.” Seeing my eyes narrow, he hurriedly added, “I thought it would be nice for my kids to raise a batch of puppies off our cattle dog. This is my first time selling any.”

  John ignored what Seth had said. “Were you working for Buddy at the time of his murder?”

  Seth nodded. “We were in the middle of a job when it happened. Another builder came in and finished the job. I went to work for Homestead Furniture and learned the trade. I never went back to building houses.”

  “How long did you know Buddy?”

  “Not very long—maybe two months. I’m from Blood Rock, Indiana, originally. I came up here for work, met a girl and the rest is history.” Seth grinned and I found myself liking him.

  The rain picked up, and Seth reached over and took my puppy to place her back in the crate. Toby helped Seth lift the crate into the wagon and together, they pulled a canvas tarp over it. The warm place against my chest where the pup had rested quickly turned cold.

  “Was Buddy a good guy to work for?” I asked.

  Seth turned around slowly. He seemed reluctant to answer. “I wish I could say that he was, but I can’t. He threw a board at me one time when I didn’t hear him giving orders.” He pointed to his ear. “I have to wear hearing aids. It was an honest mistake, but Buddy got really angry with me.”

  I digested the information, beginning to dislike Buddy. It was no wonder someone did him in, although it was never easy working a case where the victim was an asshole.

  “Do you remember him having altercations with anyone else on the crew?” John asked.

  Seth’s mouth thinned and he drew in a steady breath. “He yelled at everyone at some point or another. He was big guy, so no one argued with him. But…” He stopped and looked between the three of us, then lowered his voice. “There was one time he got into a fight with his wife…or maybe they were divorced, I can’t remember. Anyway, she stopped by and they began shouting at each other. I think it was something about how she didn’t like him parking his car in front of her house—she accused him of spying on her.” He smoothed down his beard with his hand. “She slapped him across the face, then he shoved her hard, and she fell to the ground. My friend, Lester, and I wanted to go over and help her up, but we were afraid to. Everyone stopped working and stared.”

  “Did someone call the police?” I asked.

  “No. The woman jumped up, yelled some more and got into her car and drove away.” He shook his head. “It was as if she was used to that sort of thing happening.”

  “Who do you think murdered Buddy?” John took a step closer to Seth, leaning over in a Hey, aren’t we friends? sort of way.

  Seth’s eyes became distant as he stared at the barn, and the people flooding back outside now that the sky had brightened and the rain had stopped. “I wouldn’t hazard a guess. It could have been anyone.”

  I glanced at John. His mouth thinned into a grim line. “Thank you for talking to us, Seth. Can we have your phone number, just in case we need to follow up on a question?”

  Seth reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a plain white business card and handed it to John. “That’s for the furniture shop. I’m there all week and sometimes on Saturdays. There’s no phone at our house, so that’s the best way to reach me.”

  “How much are the puppies?” Toby asked, shooting me a sideways glance. I wanted to smack the teasing look off his face.

  Seth straightened. “Seventy-five each. They’re not papered, but I wormed ‘em and did their first shots.”

  Silence hung in the air as the three men stared at me. I heard a yip and a whine, but said nothing.

  When we got back into John’s car, I took shotgun and Toby climbed into the backseat.

  “I thought you fell in love with that pup,” Toby said.

  “I don’t have time for a dog in my life—I can barely keep up with Daniel.” I buckled the seat belt and turned to John. “I think we need to talk to Samantha Prowes.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” John replied.

  8

  The house was small, white and neat as a button. Trimmed shrubbery lined the walkway and a slick-coated black cat was curled up on one of the flowery padded chairs on the porch. Bright pink petunias draped from hanging baskets and the sunshine beating down on the wet grass created a thick, greenhouse feeling.

  I wiggled, pulling my damp shirt away from my chest and flapping it. “If this weather is any indication, it’s going to be a scorching summer,” I commented.

  John wasn’t even sweating, and I wondered how he managed it, still wearing the dark coat. Toby had rolled up his sleeves, but wasn’t reacting to the heat the way I was.

  “We’re going to have to tread lightly with Buddy’s ex-wife. Jim interviewed her extensively, but it’s been a while. Sometimes, people recall bits of information years later that are useful,” John said.

  “Yeah, and sometimes they create new realities of the event. It can go either way,” I countered.

  “True, but if this woman was involved in the murder in any way, enough time has passed that she might just let something slip.” John nodded for Toby to knock on the door.

  A boy, about ten years old, peeked through the narrow opening. Blond hair hung down over his eye and he shook his head to clear his vision.

  “Is your mom home?” John asked.


  “Mom!” The boy shouted, then he ran back into the house.

  “Kids,” John muttered, rubbing his ear.

  The woman who stepped up to the door was as blonde as her son. She was shorter than me and petite. She wore just enough makeup to enhance her attractive features without overdoing it, and in khaki pants and a green blouse, she was nicely dressed.

  I swallowed down my surprise. Samantha Prowes didn’t match the picture I’d already created in my head.

  “Can I help you?” she said in a soft voice, adding to my disbelief that she was capable of murder and bludgeoning a corpse.

  John introduced us and Samantha invited us in. She offered us tea and coffee, which we politely refused, and asked her son to play outside.

  Once we were seated, and before John had the opportunity to say anything, she spoke up. “This is about Buddy, isn’t it?”

  John reacted smoothly. “Why do you assume that?”

  A smile tugged at her lips and she flipped her shoulder-length hair back. I guessed she was about five years older than me, but had that innocent, damsel-in-distress look that made her appear younger.

  “I have a law degree and work at a small firm in town.” She paused, as though she were savoring our surprised expressions, and then she went on, “Your shocked looks are nothing new—I guess it’s my appearance.” She shrugged. “After Buddy was killed in the woods behind the house, a lot of unwarranted suspicion fell on me. Everyone was whispering behind my back. It nearly ruined my life. After about a year, I got fed up with it and enrolled in evening law classes while I continued to work full time at the bank. I earned my degree five years later and ever since, I’ve been focused on women’s rights, and protecting those unable to defend themselves against the same kind of assumptions I dealt with.”