Danger in Plain Sight (18 page)

“It must have taken that to get the variance you needed from the zoning board.”

“It’s all a matter of knowing—” He stopped abruptly, as if hearing what he was saying.

“The zoning board saw what a benefit this would be to the community.” His voice grew stiff.

“Really? I’m surprised they didn’t object to prime farmland being rezoned for commercial use.”

His face flushed, and she thought he was going to lose his temper. He seemed to force it down. He patted the plans. “I thought this was what you wanted to see.”

“I do. But I’ll bet people who read the local paper would be more interested in how you got permission to build there.”

Tom slapped at the stapler, and the plans rolled shut. “I’m not going to discuss that, so if that’s really why you came, you may as well leave.”

That was plain speaking. She hadn’t expected Sylvester to resist so bluntly. He’d always shown a bit of deference to the Morgan family. But maybe things had changed since Dad was no longer around.

“I’m surprised you don’t want to explain. This is your chance to tell your side of the story, so people will stop speculating about it.”

“Nobody’s speculating but you.” His already-ruddy color deepened alarmingly. “Typical. You Morgans always think you’ve got to put your two cents’ worth in.”

Her temper rose, but she hung on to it. “Everyone who cares about this area has a right to an opinion.”

“Not on my private business.” His fist thudded against the desk, and the sound echoed in the nearly empty room. “You’re just like your father, always butting into things that didn’t concern him.”

Libby let the anger go, feeling it surge through her like a wave of energy. “My father cared about Spring Township and all the people in it. If I am like him, I’m proud of that.”

She stalked out of the office.

CHAPTER TEN

PROPELLED BY A wave of anger, Libby surged onto the sidewalk and stalked toward the car. And stopped. She was blocked in by a double-parked truck.

This was something that happened in the city, not in quiet little Springville. She was surprised Adam wasn’t out here already, warning the driver to move on. Mindful of the icy slush, she stepped off the curb and approached the window of the truck on the passenger side.

The driver sat behind the wheel, gazing down the street as if he had nothing better to do. She’d love to give him a piece of her mind, but a tactful request to move would be more likely to get her what she wanted. She rapped sharply on the window.

The driver turned, and her stomach cramped. It was the worker from the construction site. He was just as unkempt as he’d been there, and likely still wearing the same dirt-crusted clothes. Oddly enough, he didn’t show any sign of recognizing her.

She pointed toward her car. “You’re blocking me in. Pull ahead, please.”

The driver smiled then, a narrow grimace that contrasted with the malice in his eyes. He recognized her, all right. Was this some kind of payback for her incursion at the construction site?

Then he nodded, lifted his hand in what seemed to be agreement and started to shift gears. Apparently they weren’t going to have another confrontation. Relieved, she headed back to the car.

Climbing in, she started the engine and cranked the heater up. Tom’s office had been cold, as if her visit hadn’t been worth turning the heat on for.

The truck began moving forward, too slowly for her taste. Restless, she shifted into Drive and edged into the street, her thoughts jumping ahead to what she wanted to do next. She’d drop the camera at home first, checking to be sure it hadn’t been damaged.

Then—Libby glanced up to be sure he’d left her enough space to pull out. Barely. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she began to pull past him.

Halfway out, she realized that the driver had started to back again. She hit the brake and the horn simultaneously. Too late. She jolted backward to the sound of crumpling metal.

For an instant she was too stunned to react.

Then anger flared out of control, and she shoved the shift into Park and flung the door open.

She reached the front of the car just as the driver sauntered back, leaving his truck’s motor running so that fumes spewed out at her.

“What is wrong with you? You did that deliberately!”

He smiled, holding up his hands. “Hey, lady, you hit me. Hope you have decent insurance.”

She hoped so, too. She had no idea whether Jessica’s insurance would cover the damage when Jessica hadn’t been behind the wheel. But that was hardly the important thing now.

“I did not hit you. You backed into me while I was pulling out. You knew I was there, and you backed right into me.”

“Accidents happen, don’t they? Every day. Every night.”

Her tension jerked upward. Was that a veiled reference to Esther’s accident?

“What do you mean? If you’re talking about Esther Zook—”

He lost the phony smile, eyes narrowing. “Don’t know what you mean. I’m just saying accidents happen. Especially to people who’re too busy minding other folks’ business to pay attention.”

“If you think you can scare me away with tactics like that, you’re mistaken.” Her voice rose. “I’m not—”

“What’s going on here?” Adam’s voice cut through her anger.

She turned, finding him on the sidewalk, almost as if he’d followed her from the inn. He moved quickly between the vehicles, his gaze assessing the damage.

“Well?” He came to a halt, looking from one to the other. “Looks like there’s been an accident. Is everyone okay?”

“He hit me deliberately.” Libby flung the words at him. “First he double-parked, blocking me in, and then he backed into me.” She looked at the crumpled fender, reminded of the crumpled buggy.

Adam’s gaze swept over her. “You weren’t hurt?” He sounded as neutral as if she were a stranger, but there was concern in his eyes.

She shook her head. “This is the guy who threatened me at the building site,” she said quickly, sure he’d remember that conversation.

“Ron Taylor.” Adam fixed his gaze on the man. “You actually working these days?”

“You got no call to talk to me that way. I got a good job. I’m the watchman out at that motel Tom Sylvester is building.”

Adam didn’t react outwardly to that, but she could practically see the wheels turning.

“He threatened me that day, and he just threatened me again,” she added for emphasis.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” Taylor glared at her. “It’s my job to chase trespassers off the job site. They could get hurt. And she drove right into me.” He gestured toward the damaged front end. “That’s her fault.”

“Because I’ve been too nosy?” she said acidly. She clamped her lips closed. She’d do better to come across as calm and controlled.

He shrugged, hunching his shoulders with a surly glare. “Guess you weren’t paying attention. Drove right into me.”

“You backed into me!” She couldn’t help it—her voice rose.

“Enough.” Adam didn’t raise his voice, but his steely tone was enough to subdue Libby. “Get back in your vehicles, both of you, while I conduct my investigation.”

“But Adam—” She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t possibly doubt her, but his expression said now was not the time. She climbed back into her car, relieved that the heater, at least, was still working.

Not her car, she reminded herself. Jessica’s car. Libby wanted to groan at the thought. She’d have to try and have it fixed immediately.

She watched Adam through the windshield as he set up orange cones around the vehicles. Then he began to talk to the few people who had gathered on the sidewalk. Not many people were on Springville’s Main Street, given how cold it was.

She’d just have to hope someone had seen what happened, since Adam apparently wouldn’t take her word for it. That rankled, even though her rational mind insisted that he couldn’t play favorites in a police investigation.

Adam had his notebook flipped open, his head bent as he jotted down whatever people were telling him.

Finally Adam returned, gesturing to both of them to join him. “I have two witnesses who support Ms. Morgan’s version of the accident,” he said, ripping something off his pad and handing it to Taylor. “I’m citing you for reckless driving. Get that truck off the street, and tell your boss to notify his insurance company.”

Taylor clutched the citation in his hand, looking as if he wanted to crumple it up and throw it away. But he seemed to think the better of that.

“You’re just doing this because you got a grudge against me. It was an accident.”

“You deliberately—” Libby began, but Adam held up his hands.

“Enough. Taylor, get out of here.”

Taylor frowned, muttering something to himself. He turned away, but then turned back again, glaring at Libby.

“It was an accident,” he repeated. “Accidents happen. They happen all the time, to all kinds of people.”

Libby held her tongue and her temper until he climbed into the truck and headed down the street. Then she turned to Adam.

“He hit me deliberately. He’s threatening me, don’t you see?”

“Let’s save this conversation until we’re out of the cold,” Adam said. “You’re not going to be able to drive the car. The fender is rubbing against the tire. I’ve called for a tow truck.”

Libby looked at the damage, wanting to weep. “It’s Jessica’s car. My brother will never let me hear the end of it.”

“You sound like a kid.” Adam’s voice lowered, and he sounded like himself again. “You know perfectly well Link and Jessica care more about you than a car.”

“It’s not the sort of impression I wanted to make on a new sister-in-law.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you wait in the township car where it’s warm? I’ll drive you home as soon as we’ve dealt with the tow truck.”

Nodding, Libby opened the car door. She paused, looking up at him. “That was one of Tom Sylvester’s trucks. He’s in his office. I was just there, talking to him.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “So that’s where you were headed when you rushed away from the inn.”

He’d been watching her, then. No wonder he’d turned up so opportunely. “Don’t you see? Sylvester is inside. I can see him through the window. He had to know that one of his trucks has just been involved in an accident. So why didn’t he come out? Give me a logical explanation for that, if you can. Why didn’t he come out?”

* * *

ADAM KEPT AN eye on Libby while he dealt with the bystanders and the tow truck driver. She sat in the front seat of his patrol car, holding her hands out to the heater vent.

Libby had a genius for landing right in the middle of things. Maybe that made her a good photojournalist, but he’d prefer she not exercise that gift here. If she ended up getting hurt—

He cut that thought off. No one would harm Libby. An image of Esther’s mangled buggy slid into his mind. He’d have said no one would harm Esther, either.

He frowned, apparently looking so forbidding that he discouraged further comments on the part of the few people who lingered on the sidewalk, since they drifted away.

What was Taylor doing involved in this situation? If he’d known Taylor was the watchman who’d warned her off at the construction site, he might have pursued it. The man had been arrested several times on minor theft charges and a drunken brawl or two.

Not the kind of person he’d like to see anywhere near Libby. For that matter, why would Tom Sylvester hire him? He certainly had to know the man’s reputation.

He glanced at the plate glass window of the office. Sylvester was looking out, watching just as Libby had said. When he realized Adam had seen him, he moved quickly away from the window.

What exactly was going on with Sylvester? He’d give a lot right now to know that.