Hide in Plain Sight

by Marta Perry

  What about this time? He wasn’t sure what he thought, not yet. He didn’t want to believe someone had tampered with the stove, but it didn’t do to take anything for granted.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Andrea’s face tightened. “I don’t want to go over it again.”

  “I don’t suppose you do, but we have to figure out what caused this.”

  Her eyes met his, startled. “You think it wasn’t an accident?”

  “I don’t know what I think, yet. That’s why I want to ask you a few questions.” He was surprised to hear that lawyer’s voice coming out of his mouth.

  She took a breath, seeming to compose herself. “Emma was baking a cake. For Rachel’s homecoming. I guess she’d been preheating the oven. Yes, I’m sure she had, because I remember seeing her turn it on.” She shrugged. “There isn’t anything else to tell. She opened the oven door to put the cake in, and the flames came out in her face.” She shivered. “I hate to sound stupid, but what made it do that?”

  “The pilot light was blown out—it had to be. The gas built up in the oven, and when the door was opened, that was all it took to ignite.”

  “It could have happened accidentally.” She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.

  “I suppose so,” he agreed. “When was the last time the oven was used?”

  “Last night—no, I take that back, we didn’t use it last night. It would have been in the morning yesterday, when Emma baked.”

  Something tingled at the back of his mind. “Why did you say last night?”

  “Well, it’s silly, really. Grams and I were laughing about it. Emma insists on leaving something cooked for our supper, and then I put it in the oven to heat. And she always asks, so I don’t even dare to heat it in the microwave. Emma doesn’t hold with microwaves.”

  “It might have been safer, this time.”

  She nodded. “Anyway, neither of us was very hungry last night, so we just had sandwiches. We were joking about who had to confess to Emma.” Her voice shook again, and she turned her hand so that her palm was against his, clasping it tightly. “Cal, it had to be an accident. No one would do that deliberately.”

  “Maybe. But too many odd things have been happening for me to write them all off as coincidence.”

  The back door opened. The paramedics came out, carrying their gear, and headed for their truck. Then Eli emerged, supporting Emma, who held a wet dressing to her face. Levi gave an inarticulate cry and shambled toward them.

  Eli caught him before he could grasp Emma in a bear hug, talking to him softly and urgently in the low German the Amish used among themselves. Levi nodded, touched his mother’s sleeve, and then went to unhitch the horse.

  Andrea approached, holding her hand out tentatively. “Emma, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

  “Ja.” Eli answered for her. “The glasses protected her eyes, praise God. Her face is painful, but it will heal.”

  Emma came from behind the dressing for a moment, her skin red and shiny. “You take care of your grandmother, now. And my cake—”

  “Don’t start worrying about the cake. You can make another one for Rachel when you’re completely recovered.”

  They watched as Eli and Levi handed her up carefully into the buggy. Levi took the reins.

  “I’ll come by later to see how you are,” Andrea called as the buggy creaked slowly away.

  She looked as if she wanted to go after them, do something to make this better. He touched her arm.

  “Maybe we’d better check on Katherine.”

  “Yes, of course.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m beginning to think I’m not very good in an emergency.”

  “You’ll do.” He followed her into the house, wondering. If this had been deliberate—but there wouldn’t be any way to prove it. Still, he wanted a look at the stove.

  He got his chance almost immediately, when Andrea, seeing how shaken Katherine was, took her grandmother upstairs to lie down. He waited until they’d disappeared up the steps and then opened the oven door.

  When Andrea came back a few minutes later, he was still bending over the open door.

  “Did you find anything?”

  He shrugged. “Only how easy it would be to blow out the pilot. You’d better have someone come from the gas company to check it out, but I don’t think he’ll find anything wrong.”

  He closed the door. Andrea sagged against the kitchen counter, as if her bones had gone limp.

  “Rachel comes home tomorrow. The first guests arrive on Saturday, and now Emma is out of action. What could anyone have to gain by tampering with the stove?”

  He shrugged. “Someone might have thought it would delay the opening.”

  “Who would care?” She flung her hands out in frustration.

  “Margaret cares. She doesn’t want the competition. And there are those who don’t want anything to draw more tourists here.”

  She shook her head at that. “I can’t believe anyone would hurt Emma for such a reason.”

  He hesitated, but she had to know. “It might not have been aimed at Emma.”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “If anyone knew that you usually heated up supper, the target might have been you.”

  “But—how would they know? And even if one of us mentioned it, how could they be sure Emma wouldn’t take it into her head to bake something?”

  He frowned. “That’s the thing. Yesterday afternoon, when I came in, I tried the side door, but it was locked. When we came down from the attic, Emma had already gone, but she always uses the back door. I found the side door was not only unlocked, but ajar.”

  “You mean someone might have come in then and tampered with the stove.”

  He couldn’t tell whether she accepted it or not. “Could have. Could have had a good idea you’d be the next to use it. Could have been a lot of things, but there’s no proof.”

  “No.” Her face was pale. “There’s not remotely enough to take to the police.”

  “Maybe I’m being overly suspicious. I hope so. But I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I.” She rubbed her forehead. “It has to be just an accident. There’s an innocent explanation for all of this, surely.”

  “I hope so.” He wanted to say he’d protect her, but he didn’t know if he could. And he certainly didn’t have that right. He reached out to touch her cheek, the caress lingering longer than he intended.

  “Take care of yourself, Andrea. Call me if anything, anything at all, strikes you as odd.”

  “I will.”

  But she was probably thinking the same thing he was. How did you protect yourself against something as amorphous as this?

  “No, thank you, it’s wonderful, but I can’t eat another bite.” Andrea tried to soften the refusal with a smile. Nancy Zook, wife of Eli and Emma’s son Samuel, held a cherry pie in one hand and a peach pie in the other. After the huge serving of Schnitz un Knepp—ham hock, dried apples and dumplings—she’d thought she’d never eat again, but Nancy had urged a sliver of pie on her.

  “Ah, it’s nothing. Soon it will be time to make the strawberry preserves. We will send some over to you.” Nancy put the pies down on the table and turned to offer seconds to the rest of the Zook family—Eli, Samuel, their five children and Levi.

  Emma was keeping to her bed for the evening, but when Andrea had slipped over to the attached daadi haus to see her, she’d been insistent that she’d be back at work soon. Given the painful-looking blisters on her face, Andrea doubted it.

  She’d walked over to the Zook farm late in the afternoon to bring get-well wishes and roses from her grandmother. The insistence that she stay to supper had been so strong that she couldn’t have refused without insult, especially after they learned that Grams was having supper at the hospital with Rachel.

  The room looked much like any farmhouse kitchen, with its wooden cabinets and linoleum floor. A wooden china closet held special di
shes. One difference was that the only wall decoration was a large calendar featuring a picture of kittens in a basket. In most Old Order Amish communities, only such a useful picture could be placed on the wall.

  She sipped strong coffee, glancing around the long, rectangular table with its covering of checkered oilcloth. The children chattered amongst themselves softly, mindful of having an English guest. With their round blue eyes and blond hair, the girls in braids, the boys bowl-cut, they looked very alike.

  Eli and Samuel talked about the next day’s work. Levi sat silent, looking down at his pie. His clean-shaven face was unusual for an Amish adult male, but the beard was a sign of marriage. His soft round cheeks were like those of the children.

  Had the figure in the rain had a beard? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to think it, but nothing that had been done would be beyond Levi’s capabilities.

  She glanced at the gas range. He’d know about the pilot light. But he’d never hurt his mother. That was a ridiculous thought.

  A small voice at the back of her mind commented that he might have expected it to be her. All of the Zook family would know about the supper arrangements.

  She wanted to reject the idea, but she couldn’t. Levi seemed so uneasy with her presence at the table. He’d sent her only one startled glance when she first sat down, his blue eyes as wide as those of a frightened deer, and since then he’d kept his gaze fixed firmly on his plate, showing her only the top of his blond head.

  A low rumble of thunder had all of them looking toward the windows.

  “Ach, a storm is coming yet.” Eli pushed his chair back. “We must get the outside chores done quickly.”

  The children scurried from the table, diving toward the door in their eagerness to be first out.

  “I’d better leave if I don’t want to get soaked on the way home.” Andrea rose and held out her hand to Nancy. “Thank you so much for the wonderful meal.”

  “It’s nothing.” Nancy bobbed her head in a formal little gesture. “Would you be wanting Levi to walk you back?”

  “No.” That came too quickly. “I’m sure he has work to do. I’ll be fine, but I’d better run.”

  She hurried out the back door, waving to the children as she headed for the path that went around the pond and through a small woodlot before coming out behind the barn where Cal had his shop.

  Thunder rumbled again, closer now. It had been foolish not to bring a jacket, with afternoon thunderstorms forecast. Still, if she hurried, she could probably beat the rain home.

  The breeze picked up, ruffling the surface of the pond and making the tall ferns that bordered it sway and dance. The scent of rain was in the air, and lightning flashed along the horizon. The distant farms, each marked by twin silos, seemed to wait for the rain.

  She scurried past the pond with a fleeting memory of sailing homemade boats on it with the Zook children. The path plunged between the trees, and it was suddenly dark. She slowed, watching the path, having no desire to trip on a tree root and go sprawling.

  A trailing blackberry bramble caught at her slacks, then tugged the laces of her sneakers, pulling one free of its knot. She bent, quickly retying it. Quiet—it was so quiet here. Even the birds must have taken shelter from the coming storm.

  But as she rose, a sound froze her in place. Was that a footstep, somewhere behind her?

  She looked back, seeing nothing, but the under-growth was thick enough to hide a figure unless it was close. Too close.

  That thought got her feet moving again. Hurry. Don’t think about the possibility of someone behind you. Think about the fact that the last thing Cal told you was to be careful. Is this being careful?

  Cal. She yanked out her cell phone. Better to risk feeling foolish than get into trouble. She could still feel those strong hands that pushed her into the toolshed.

  Cal answered almost at once.

  “It’s Andrea. I’m on the path coming back from Zook’s farm. Maybe I’m being silly, but I thought I heard someone behind me.”

  “I’m on my way.” The connection clicked off.

  She’d stopped long enough to make the call, and now the sound was closer. The bushes rustled as if a body forced its way through them.

  Could be a deer. But even as she thought the words she started to run, feet thudding on the path, instinct telling her to flee like a frightened animal.

  Around the twists in the path, careful, careful, don’t trip. If you fall, he could be on you in a moment.

  The sounds behind her were louder now, as if the follower had given up any need for secrecy. She didn’t dare look behind her. To lose even a second could allow him to catch up.

  Lightning flashed, close now, and the boom of thunder assaulted her ears. She was nearly out of the woods, just a little farther…

  She spurted into the open like a cork from a bottle, and as she did the heavens opened. In an instant she was drenched and gasping as if she’d been shoved into a cold shower.

  Don’t stop, don’t stop…

  And then she saw Cal running toward her. Relief swept over her. She was safe.

  TWELVE

  Cal put another small log on the fire he’d started in his fireplace and watched flames shoot up around it. Maybe the fire would warm and comfort Andrea. It was probably better than putting his arms around her, which was his instinctive reaction.

  He put the poker back in the rack, glancing toward her. She sat on the sofa, wearing one of his flannel shirts, towel-drying her hair. She looked vulnerable, which made it even harder to keep his distance.

  He had to find a way to help her, but he had to do it without wrecking the hard-won peace he’d found since he’d come here. Getting emotionally involved with a woman who couldn’t wait to get away from this life would be a mistake. So would reverting to acting and thinking like a lawyer.

  “Thanks.” Andrea looked up at him, producing a faint smile. “For the fire and the hot chocolate. I’ve already had enough coffee to keep me up half the night.”

  He sat down in the armchair, a careful distance from her. “Can you tell me about it now?”

  “There’s not much to tell.” She frowned, absently toweling the damp hair that clung to her neck. “I’d gone over to see how Emma was, and Nancy insisted I stay for supper. When we noticed the storm coming up, they all scattered to do their chores, and I headed down the path. I’d just reached the woods when I thought I heard someone behind me.”

  “Back up a little. Did you see where Levi was when you left?”

  “I’m not sure. Nancy offered to have him walk me back, but I said no.” Her gaze met his. “I’m a little ashamed of that. I’m letting suspicion make a difference in how I treat people. That’s not right.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s probably unavoidable. So you don’t know where he went at that point?”

  “I think he headed for the barn with the boys, but I’m not positive, but just because I was at Zook’s farm, that doesn’t mean Levi was the one who followed me.”

  “No, but it’s more probable than that someone else was hanging around, watching you.”

  He could see the shiver that went through her at the suggestion, and regretted it. But somehow they had to get to the bottom of this.

  “So you never actually saw the person who followed you.”

  “No. Just heard him. At first I thought it was an animal, but once I started to run—” She wrapped her arms around her, as if comforting herself, and the too-long sleeves of the shirt flopped over her hands. “I’m sure what I heard was a person.”

  “I didn’t see him, either.” He frowned. What could anyone hope to gain by such a stunt?

  Andrea shoved her hair back from her face. “That doesn’t mean he wasn’t there.” Her voice was tart.

  “I didn’t mean that. I’m trying not to think like a lawyer, but old habits die hard.” He’d thought he had it licked before Andrea came, involving him in her problems.

  That wasn’t fair. The trouble had already bee
n here, but something about Andrea’s arrival seemed to have brought it out.

  “It’s not that bad to think like an attorney, is it? After all, you are one.”

  “I’m a carpenter,” he said. “Any resemblance to the person I used to be is a mistake.”

  A slight frown wrinkled her brows. “I can understand your grief and guilt. But do you think that necessarily means you can’t be an attorney?”

  His turn to frown. “You think I’m wasting my life here. Is that it? Believe me, I’ve gained far more than I lost in making the change. Peace. A new relationship with God.” He paused, his momentary irritation dissolving. “In my old life, I’d have been embarrassed if someone brought up God in conversation. Am I embarrassing you?”

  “No.” Her face softened. “Maybe it’s the impact of this place. I’ve thought more about faith since I came back than I had in the past year. Feeling—I don’t know. Tugged back, I guess.”

  “I’m glad.” He reached across the space between them to take her hand. Her fingers were cold, and he tried to warm them with his. “Even when you go away…”

  He stopped. He didn’t want her to leave. That was the truth, however irrational it might be. She wouldn’t stay. Her life was elsewhere.

  “When I leave—”

  Her eyes met his, and he saw in them exactly what he felt. Longing. Tenderness. Regret.

  Be careful. You’re not going to kiss her again. It would be a mistake, getting entangled with someone who is determined to leave.

  He rose, moving to the fireplace and leaning on the mantel. Take himself out of range.

  “As far as this incident is concerned…” He frowned, trying to concentrate on the problem. “Most likely the person who followed you was Levi, simply because no one else could have known you were there. But if stopping the inn from opening is the object of all this harassment, why would he care?”

  “I suppose that must be the motive—at least I can’t think of any other reasonable hypothesis.” She frowned. “It still seems overly dramatic to think that any of these solid, law-abiding Pennsylvania Dutchmen would resort to trying to scare me away just to eliminate another B and B.”