Danger in Plain Sight (20 page)

“All right. But there’s still the matter of stealing a camera, breaking in—”

“But I returned everything.” Leonard turned to Libby. “Please, you understand, don’t you?”

“No. But I won’t press charges against you. Just let him go, Adam. Please.” She was suddenly tired, as if all the adrenaline she’d been running on had vanished.

Adam’s face turned stony. “The law should take its course.”

“We have more important things to deal with right now, don’t we?” She looked at him steadily. Getting involved in Leonard’s peccadilloes would just be a distraction neither of them had time for.

For a moment she thought Adam would argue. Then he stepped back and gestured toward the door.

Leonard bolted from the chair, babbling his thanks as he raced toward the door. In a moment he’d run out, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Libby felt herself sag. “Leonard Smalley. So that’s it. Not a piece of the puzzle at all. Just a terrified man trying to protect himself.”

“You should have let me lock him up. He deserved it.” Adam wore his uncompromising look.

“Really? Maybe you want to spend your time dealing with the Smalley family, but I don’t.” She bent to ruffle Sam’s ears, not sure she wanted to ask the obvious question, and the dog pressed against her leg. “Why did you come back?”
Because you regretted something you’d said?

“I spotted his car, pulled off into the woods.” Adam came a little closer. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine.” She looked up at him, managing a smile. “But what was all that business about Jason? Why would he care about the investigation into the hit-and-run?”

“That’s what I’d like to find out. He tried to act like the county commissioners thought I was wasting time, but I think he had some other agenda.” Adam frowned. “At least we know now that the break-ins here don’t have anything to do with Esther.”

“There’s still the man in Esther’s hospital room. And the attempt to get me out into the parking lot. And that funny business with Sylvester.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, eyes serious. “I’m going to have a little chat with some people who are in the know about the zoning board. See if I can pick up anything about how Tom got that variance.”

“Good idea. Maybe my mother knows someone.”

“Keep your mother out of it.” Adam sounded faintly horrified at the prospect. “If you ask Geneva, the next thing you know she’ll be starting an investigation of her own.”

She had to smile, because that was exactly like Mom. “You might have a point.”

He started for the door and then stopped and looked at her. “Do me a favor. Try to stay out of trouble for a while, will you?”

She choked back a reminder that he didn’t have the right to worry about her. “I’ll try.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ADAM HUNG UP the phone and leaned back in his desk chair, staring at nothing in particular as he processed what he’d heard. Since catching Leonard Smalley in the act yesterday, he’d felt as if some of the picture was clearing, at least.

That call from Canadian authorities had muddied the waters again. Charles Bradburn’s van had already been repaired, with no way left to prove it had been involved in the hit-and-run. The man had a good reputation as a solid citizen who’d never had so much as a parking ticket. His counterparts north of the border were happy to cooperate, but it seemed there was nothing left for them to do.

That was it, then. Bradburn’s van might or might not have been involved in the hit-and-run. But since Charles Bradburn had been well on his way home the next day, confirmed by when he crossed the border, he certainly couldn’t have been the intruder in the hospital room or the person who’d tried to decoy Libby out to the parking lot.

His blood ran cold every time he thought of that. Libby just assumed that Esther had been the target, and maybe she was right. But it was equally possible that a person who’d silenced Esther might also want to silence the friend she’d confided in.

Adam moved restlessly, and the swivel chair creaked in protest. If he could put Libby on a flight back to San Francisco right now, he’d feel a lot better, but that wasn’t going to happen.

Shoving the chair back, he rose. The office was too small for his mood at the moment. He’d think better when he was moving.

He grabbed his jacket from the hook and strode through the outer office, raising his hand to the dispatcher. “I’m taking a walk around town, Ginger. If anybody wants me, I’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

“Bring some decent coffee with you,” Ginger called as the door swung shut. “And a couple of doughnuts.”

He shook his head, smiling a little. Hiring an old friend from high school as his dispatcher guaranteed that he didn’t get any respect.

Springville’s main street had been slush-covered earlier. Now it was being coated with a fresh coating of snow. Looked nice, but it would most likely bring on a rash of fender benders.

He passed one of the Amish-owned shops, glancing in at handmade rocking chairs. Not much business today, probably. The tea shop and bakery was doing a little better, with folks stopping in for a quick bite and to catch up on the latest gossip.

A car came down the street fast, and then slowed when the driver obviously spotted him. Adam raised his hand, recognizing Judge Judith Waller at the wheel. She looked like a sedate grandmother and drove like a teenage drag racer. He might give her a warning, but professional courtesy dictated that he not ticket her, and she knew it.

She smiled, waved and proceeded down the street at a more decorous pace.

Several buggies were drawn up in the alley next to the hardware store, and he spotted Bishop Amos leaning on the counter, talking to Sam Robertson, the owner. On impulse, he pushed the door open and walked inside. The heat from the wood-burning stove assailed him, and he unzipped his jacket.

“Feels like summer in here, Sam.” He approached the counter.

“It’s a good advertisement for the wood-burners, don’t you think?” Sam, lean and graying, grinned at him, and Bishop Amos nodded gravely.

“Has it sold many of them?” He had his doubts. Most people didn’t want the trouble of a wood-burner when they could just push up the thermostat, although sometimes they had cause to regret that decision when the power went off.

“You’d be surprised,” Sam said. “What can I do for you today? Does the police department need a fresh supply of locks?”

“No, thanks. Actually, I saw Bishop Amos was here and wanted to have a word.”

Nothing seemed to startle the bishop, and his blue eyes were tranquil when he nodded. “I am always glad to see you, Adam. You want to talk about Esther, ain’t so?”

With his work-callused hands and slightly stooped shoulders, Bishop Amos looked like what he was, a hardworking farrier. He was also the spiritual leader of the Spring Township Amish community.

Sam faded tactfully into the back with a murmur about stocking shelves. Adam leaned against the counter, not sure how to begin.

“I thought maybe you could tell me if there are any rumors going around among your people about Esther’s accident. So far we haven’t had much success in tracing the person who hit her.”

Bishop Amos shook his head. “That was a sad thing, for sure. Folks are talking about it, but nobody has any guesses as to who the driver was, at least not that I’ve heard. Whoever he was, we forgive him. It is up to God to deal with him.”

“It’s also up to the law,” Adam said. “But we have to find him first.”

Bishop Amos nodded, accepting his words, but Adam knew that didn’t mean he’d turn to the law himself. The Amish believed in living separate from the world.
In the world, but not of it.
Strictly law-abiding themselves, they were unlikely to seek redress from the law when they were wronged.

“Libby Morgan received a few letters from Esther recently that indicated Esther was worried about something. Apparently it was something that affected both the Amish and the English. Any idea what that might be?”

Bishop Amos shook his head automatically, but then he paused, frowning. “It might be… But that could have nothing to do with Esther’s accident.”

Adam tried not to sound too eager. “Anything you can tell me might help. It might have something to do with why she was out on Dahl Road that night.”

The bishop seemed to weigh something. Finally he shook his head. “Some of my people have been a bit concerned about a problem recently, but I did not think Esther was among them.”

“If you tell me, it won’t go any further.”

Bishop Amos’s gaze met his. “You have always been a gut friend to the Amish, Adam. I don’t forget that. But there are some things I cannot discuss.”

Adam shrugged, trying to conceal his disappointment. “I’m always here, if the situation changes.”

“Perhaps it may change in a way none of us expected.” The bishop’s weathered face creased in a smile. “Esther Zook has been improving more than the doctors thought possible. She opens her eyes and seems to understand what people say. There’s a rumor she will even go home soon.”

That startled him. “Is she talking?”

“Not yet. But once she is home again, perhaps that will happen.”

Home. An isolated farm, with no one there to protect her. Esther might improve at home, but she might also be in serious danger, as Libby had pointed out with such emphasis.

He’d have to talk with the Zook family about this as soon as possible. To say nothing of Libby, who’d be involved up to her chin, if he knew her.

* * *

THE HOSPITAL WAS beginning to feel way too familiar. Libby walked toward Esther’s room, nodding to the nurse who always seemed to be on duty when she arrived. If she felt this way, think how much worse it was for Esther’s mother, who’d practically been living here since the accident.

When she opened the door, her heart seemed to stop. Esther’s bed was empty.

And then Rebecca came toward her, beaming. “Esther is at physical therapy. Mary Ann has gone with her to learn what to do, so that she can help Esther when she comes home. It is wonderful gut, ja? The doctor says she might be able to leave the hospital this week.”

The therapists had been coming to Esther’s room every day lately to work with her, mentioning the importance of keeping her from losing muscle tone, but this was the first time she’d gone to them.

Libby collected her scattered thoughts. “Leave? You mean, go to a rehab facility?” They’d have to make new security arrangements at a new place.

“The doctor suggested that.” Rebecca took her hand, leading her to a chair. “But we are sure that Esther will get well faster at home.”

Esther would go home, and she’d encounter all the dangers that accompanied that. And there would be no guard on duty at the door every night to protect her.

Libby tried to find the argument that would work best on Rebecca. “Surely she would recover faster at a rehab facility. They have all the equipment she would need, and the therapists are trained to help her. You want her to get back to her old self.”

“She will do that faster in her own home, with her familiar surroundings.” Rebecca sounded stubbornly convinced that she was right. “And the doctor says he will arrange for the physical therapist to come to the house three times every week. The rest of the time, we will help her.”

Libby clasped her hand. “What about the danger to Esther? The man you saw in her room? The one who tried to get me to leave her alone the other night?”

“She will be safer at home. Someone will always be there with her.” Rebecca seemed to be trying to convince herself. Her fingers tightened on Libby’s. “It will be for the best. You’ll see.”

She didn’t agree, but it was obvious that her opinion wasn’t going to count for much. Pressing her lips together, she struggled to find another argument, but she couldn’t. In fact, she could only think of one possible solution.

“When you do take Esther home, I’d like to come and stay for a while, if that’s all right with you.” She imagined she felt a slight withdrawal in their clasped hands. “Please, Rebecca. You know I won’t be a bother. And I can help with Esther’s exercises. Mary Ann has so much responsibility as it is with the children. I’m sure you can use an extra pair of hands.”