Murder in Plain Sight (14 page)

T
REY DIDN’T RETURN TO THE
house until well after supper. Because he didn’t want to spend time with
her? Jessica didn’t know. But she suspected that he was as blindsided by the feelings between them as she was.

He came into the study, where she’d been working on her laptop, giving her a frowning gaze. “I understand the trial date is set.”

She nodded. “Just a month. Although I’m not sure having more time would help.”

Trey sat in the chair next to her. She could feel his gaze on her face, so intense that he might as well be touching her skin.

“Where were you today?” She didn’t mean that to sound accusing. She just wanted to get him talking so that she could dismiss the intimacy of the moment.

“I had some work to do. Then I went over to Jonas’s place and had a look around the barn.”

The words startled her. “But I didn’t tell you—” She stopped, not sure she wanted to say the rest of it.

“Didn’t tell me what?” He clasped her hand in his. “What, Jessica? You can trust me.”

“I know.” Her smile flickered. “I just didn’t want to sound paranoid.”

His gaze met hers steadily for a long moment. “You don’t think it was an accident.”

She shrugged, not sure she wanted to go that far. “I heard…thought I heard…someone in the loft just before the bales fell over.”

“You didn’t see anyone?” His words came quick and hard.

“No. I can’t even be sure of what I heard. Maybe it was just a natural sound. The floorboards settling or something.”

“But someone might have been there. Someone might have given those bales a shove.”

“How could that happen?” She’d been over this in her own mind a hundred times today. “Wouldn’t he or she have been spotted?”

He frowned, turning her hand idly in his. “Not necessarily. Probably no one was looking at the loft. The kids were all intent on each other, and the few adults probably had their minds on their own chores. Besides, it was dark enough looking up there from below that a person might not have been visible.”

A shiver went through her. She’d much rather think it had been an accident, pure and simple. “How would he get up there? And get away?”

“Easier than you might think. There are several ladders that lead down to the barn floor.” He snagged a pen and tablet from the desk and paused,
looked at the image she had doodled earlier that day—the odd little hex symbol that had been on the threatening note. “Is this worrying you?”

“Only because I don’t know what it means, if anything.”

He shook his head slowly, frowning, and she had the sense that he didn’t say what he thought.

“Well, about the barn.” He flipped the page over and drew a rough sketch. “Here, here and here there are ladders.” He pointed. “Somebody could come down while everyone was intent on you. There’s also another ladder over here at the far end. It leads into the equipment area, so if he came and went that way, he didn’t have to go into the main part of the barn at all.”

She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. “Someone in Amish dress wouldn’t have been noticed.”

“That’s ridiculous.” His words slashed back at her. “They wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“They…he…might not have intended to do much harm. If I hadn’t been getting to my feet when the bales fell, I doubt that I’d have been hurt. Startled, maybe. Scared.”

“What reason could any Amish person have for trying to scare you away? They want Thomas to be found innocent.”

“I don’t know.” Her hand twisted involuntarily, and he smoothed his fingers over it, as if he calmed a child. “But you can’t deny that some have been opposed to my involvement. And you must have been suspicious, or you wouldn’t have been out there looking over the barn today.”

“I suppose I was,” he admitted. “Jonas is a good friend, and I could see that he wasn’t satisfied, as well.”

“Did he think it was deliberate?”

“He didn’t say that, but I could tell it was in his mind.” He shook his head. “I can’t make any sense out of it. I suppose an outsider could have followed us, but how would they know you were in the loft? How would they know how to get up there without being seen?”

“That brings us back to accident,” she said.

“I guess.” He enclosed her hand in both of his. “Maybe I’m just spooked, worrying about you.”

She was suddenly breathless. “You…you shouldn’t. I’m used to looking out for myself.”

“And I’m used to looking out for the people I care about.” His voice deepened on the words, and her breath caught. She ought to look away from the intensity of his gaze, but she couldn’t. She seemed to be drowning in it. He leaned toward her—

“There you are, Trey.” Geneva hurried into the room, and Trey jerked back in his chair as if he’d been shot.

“Mom, we were talking.”

“Were you, dear? That’s nice.” She gave them a bright-eyed look and then switched on the television. “I won’t disturb you for long, but there’s something on the local news at seven that I want you to see.”

Jessica retrieved her hand. Lucky Geneva had come in when she had. An interruption was all that would have kept them from kissing again. From getting more entangled in a relationship she was afraid couldn’t go anywhere.

The television newscaster was giving a report on a three-car pileup. Jessica looked from Trey to his mother, but judging from Geneva’s expression, this wasn’t the news tidbit she was interested in.

A brief close-up of the reporter—the same one who’d waylaid her outside the jail and again at the Esch farm. The woman turned, and Jessica realized who she was interviewing.

Geneva. Geneva, big as life, smiling at the camera and telling the world that she believed in Thomas’s innocence, and that she was happy to be paying for his defense.

“There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, a TV 10 exclusive with Geneva Morgan, local business owner, revealing that she is providing representation for Thomas Esch, accused in the brutal murder of Cherry Wilson. A request for comment from Esch’s family and other local Amish was refused.”

The interview was short—that was the only bright spot Jessica could find. It ended, and Geneva switched the set off and turned to Trey with a smile identical to the one she’d worn on camera.

“There. Wasn’t that excellent?”

“Mom…” Trey often sounded frustrated when he talked with his mother, but for the first time since she’d known him, he seemed to feel helpless. “Why did you do that? What on earth possessed you?”

“The community needs to know that some of us believe Thomas is innocent. Now they do.” She beamed. “I’m so pleased about it, and it’s all thanks to Jessica. She gave me the idea.”

Jessica felt her mouth drop open. “I didn’t…”

Trey was looking at her with rage burning in the eyes that had been so warm only a few minutes ago. “Why would you do that? You know I don’t want my mother exposed to that sort of publicity.”

“I didn’t.” She was angry right back at him, but underneath the anger was pain. He judged her so
quickly. “Geneva, for pity’s sake, I didn’t suggest that you do any such thing.”

Geneva finally seemed to wake up to just how angry her son was. “No, dear, of course you didn’t suggest it. Trey, stop looking like a thundercloud. We were talking about all the bad publicity, and Jessica said it was a shame there wasn’t anyone giving the other side.”

“I didn’t say that, exactly. Just that I’d like to find a way to counter the bad publicity.” She experienced the helplessness Trey seemed to feel so often with his mother. “Geneva, I certainly didn’t want you to do anything.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Geneva beamed, unrepentant. “I showed the community that we support Thomas.”

“Yes. You did.” Trey looked weighted down with the responsibility he took so seriously. “I just hope you don’t have cause to regret it.”

B
Y
M
ONDAY MORNING,
Jessica couldn’t stay in the house any longer. She told herself it was because she had to get back to work, but she knew the truth. She really wanted to get away from reminders of the complicated situation with Trey.

Apparently Trey felt the same. He’d left the house even earlier than she had.

She sighed, pushing herself back from the desk in Leo’s office, and flexed her fingers. At least it was her left wrist, not her right. The doctor had given her a wrist support, saying it ought to allow her to use her left hand to some extent. He hadn’t mentioned how much that would hurt.

Leo, standing at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves to consult a reference, peered at her over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. “How do you feel about getting a psychiatric exam for Thomas?”

She brushed her hair back from her face, generating an instant memory of Trey doing the
same thing, Trey’s fingers lingering against her cheek…

She forced herself to concentrate. “If we bring in a psychiatric defense, that means we’re admitting he’s guilty. I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t either.” Leo put the heavy tome down on his desk. “But—”

“But I suppose we shouldn’t miss any possibilities.” She finished the thought for him. “Do you know anyone?”

He nodded. “Leave it to me.”

It was the right thing, wasn’t it? “What has happened in other local trials involving the Amish?”

Leo stared at her blankly for a moment. “There haven’t been any—well, at least not of this nature. The Amish are far more likely to be victims. A couple of Amish young men were arrested on drug charges a few years ago.”

“What was the public reaction to that?”

“Mixed.” He sat on the corner of his desk. “The fact that they were Amish caused a bit of sensationalism, but most local people understood that they were unbaptized teens who probably were in the process of leaving the church anyway.”

She nodded. “I’ve had an attorney friend looking into cases nationwide. She hasn’t been able to find
anything helpful. Other than causes like having their own schools and the recent issues with the state’s attempt to outlaw lay midwives, the Amish simply don’t appear in connection with the law.”

“Even in the case of the drug dealing, there wasn’t the kind of outcry there’s been in this case.”

“Our favorite television reporter has been responsible for a lot of that.”

“To say nothing of the district attorney. He held another news conference.” Leo tossed the book he held on the desk, and it landed on the blotter with a dull thud. “He’s riding the publicity for all its worth.”

Jessica pushed back from the desk, dissatisfied. She hadn’t followed up every other possibility, and she had to. The trial date was coming at them like a freight train. Or maybe like a train wreck.

She stood. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll check back later.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No, thanks.” If Leo knew where she was going, he might react the way Trey had, and she didn’t need any protective males following her around.

As soon as she was out of the office, she called
for a taxi. Twenty minutes later, she was getting out at the garage where Chip Fulton worked.

The bay doors stood open, so she walked inside. A burly man leaning over a car’s motor straightened, gesturing toward the door. “Boss is in the office.”

She spotted the name embroidered on his striped coveralls. “Are you Chip?

“That’s right.” Tall, heavyset, he had the look of someone who’d once been an athlete but had lost the battle to stay in shape. “I’m Chip.” His gaze drifted over her body, and he smiled. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a few questions I hope you can answer.”

His gaze sharpened on her face, and his smile disappeared. “Hey, you’re her. That lawyer trying to get Cherry’s killer off.” His beefy hand closed over a wrench. “You got a nerve, coming in here.”

Her pulse quickened, but she kept her voice even. “Thomas is innocent until proved guilty, you know.”

“He’s guilty as sin, that’s what I know.” His face reddened, and a vein throbbed in his temple. “You’d better get out. Go back where you belong, and leave us alone.”

It was an unpleasant echo of the notes. She took a step toward him, anger overcoming caution. “It was you, wasn’t it? You slashed my tires. You sent me those notes. Did you push me, too?”

He raised the wrench. “I didn’t do nothing. You can’t blame stuff on me.”

He was only feet from her. The empty garage echoed with the sound of his voice. Her stomach twisted, and she gripped her bag, hefting it. Not much of a weapon, but all she had. If he…

“Fulton!” The man who strode out of the office area was slight and graying, but his voice carried a note of authority. “What do you think you’re doing? Get away from that lady.”

Chip took a step back. “I wasn’t doing nothing. She’s the one, coming in here, accusing me of stuff I didn’t do.”

The older man turned to Jessica, a mix of apology and curiosity on his face. “If you have a beef with Fulton’s work, you’d better take it up with me. This is my shop.”

“It’s nothing to do with his work, Mr. Walbeck.” Like Chip, he wore his name on his coveralls. “My name is Jessica Langdon. I’m an attorney representing Thomas Esch.” She probably didn’t need to say more, as much publicity as the case had had. “I’m
sorry to interrupt his work, but I’d like to ask Chip a few questions about Cherry Wilson.”

He could tell her to get out, but she hoped he wouldn’t. He paused a moment, studying her face. Then he gave a short nod and turned to Chip.

“Answer the lady’s questions and be done with it, Fulton. You haven’t got anything to hide, do you?”

“No, sir,” he said quickly. “I didn’t do nothing.”

“Then answer the questions and get back to work.” He turned abruptly and stalked toward the office.

He didn’t go inside, though, Jessica noticed. He stopped at a board covered with pegs from which sets of keys were hanging. He might be looking for something, but she had the feeling he wanted to hear what was going on. Or maybe he was being protective.

“Go ahead, ask.” Chip tossed the wrench into a toolbox, where it landed with a metallic thud. “I got nothing to hide.”

She took a breath, reorganizing her thoughts. This was about Cherry Wilson, not about notes and slashed tires. “I heard that you and Cherry dated.”

He shrugged massive shoulders. “Sometimes. Not serious. We knew each other a long time, see? Since third grade, maybe. We’d go out, talk, have a few drinks, a few laughs, but I knew she’d never get serious about me.”

“Why not? If you were old friends—”

“Cherry wouldn’t settle for a mechanic. She wanted better for herself.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How would an Amish farm kid fit into that?”

“He wouldn’t.” Chip’s face tightened and his hands clenched, but he didn’t make a move toward her. “No way Cherry would ever get serious about a kid like that. She might party with him, just for laughs, but that’s all. He got mad when she turned him down. He killed her.”

“We don’t know that. It could have been someone else.”

“He was the one was there,” Chip said stubbornly. It was unanswerable. It might also be the view a jury would take.

“Was she dating anyone else?”

“Hey, I didn’t follow her around. She didn’t tell me everything. She coulda been. Like I say, she wanted better. Always had. She wasn’t gonna end up living in a trailer, trying to feed six kids, like
her mother did. That’s why she worked at the inn. Said she met a better class of guys there.”

“Anybody in particular?” Like the manager, for instance?

He half turned toward the car. “Don’t know. I got work to do. You want to know anything more about Cherry, you better ask someone else.” His head came up, and something malicious sparked in his eyes. “Ask Trey Morgan. Seems like you two are thick as thieves. Ask him.”

It was like a dash of cold water in her face. “Why would Trey Morgan know anything about Cherry?”

“Cherry always said he was her favorite customer. Used to go in there for lunch all the time, talked to her. Gave her big tips.” He turned his back entirely. “Maybe he wanted something in return, y’know?”

She didn’t know. But the sick feeling in her stomach said she’d have to find out.

G
ENEVA WAS INTENT ON
getting everyone together to talk about the case that evening, as if they were a committee planning a new playground for the school. Jessica suppressed the impatience that roiled through her and took a chair in the conversational
corner of Geneva’s pleasant living room. She’d have to get through this, and then she could make an opportunity to talk to Trey about Chip’s accusation.

Just the thought of how he might respond, let alone how she would bring it up, was enough to give her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Geneva had admitted to receiving a few unpleasant calls in the wake of her television appearance. That couldn’t help but make Trey even more resentful and less inclined to talk about his association with Cherry.

Maybe this council of war of Geneva’s was a good thing. It gave her a little more time to think, at any rate.

She glanced across at Trey. He was handing out coffee cups at Geneva’s direction, his expression as calm as ever, but she had the distinct impression of something under that placid surface—of strong emotion suppressed for the moment but ready to spring forth at the first excuse.

An excuse like a gesture of comfort turning into a kiss that had seared her heart. She backed away from that subject hurriedly.

Leo settled on the sofa next to Geneva, and Bobby perched on a straight chair he’d pulled over.

It was an unconventional group, that was certain. Jessica pulled a file from her briefcase. Back in the office, she might consult with another attorney, a legal assistant, maybe an investigator. Not a nearly retired lawyer, a crusading housewife and a….

She stopped there, unable to think how to classify Trey. Not a client, though she supposed the money that paid for the defense came from him, as well as his mother. Not an investigator, although he’d been playing that role. If Chip had been speaking the truth, Trey was withholding information. He—

Trey looked at her, as suddenly as if he’d read her thoughts. Her breath caught, and she slapped the folder onto the table with hands that weren’t quite steady. A sheet of paper slid out.

“What’s this?” Leo picked it up.

“A copy of one of the notes. Sorry.” She reached out for it. “I thought I should hang on to it.”

Leo nodded, sliding his glasses into place to look closely at the note. “Did you ever figure out what this is at the bottom?”

Trey came to lean over his shoulder. “A hex sign, very stylized. Mom did find one very similar in Dad’s collection.”

“Did he tell you anything about it?” Leo asked. “I don’t recall ever seeing one like this.”

Geneva shook her head. “I think he said someone gave it to him, but he didn’t say who.”

“You didn’t mention that when we were talking about the symbol.” What else are you keeping from me, Trey?

He shrugged, moving back to his chair. “I was distracted.” He met her gaze, as if to say that they both knew what had distracted him.

“Is the hex sign an Amish thing?” She put the question hurriedly, trying not to look at Trey but finding it impossible.

“Not Amish.” Leo answered for him. “I’d call the hex sign a Pennsylvania Dutch heritage symbol. Supposedly early settlers brought the idea with them from Germany. You’ll see the same symbols painted on furniture and carved into dower chests.” He turned back to the paper in his hand. “But this…” His frown deepened. “It reminds me of something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Bobby cleared his throat. “I was thinking…” His voice died out when everyone looked at him.

“Yes, Bobby?” Geneva said, her tone encouraging.

“Chip Fulton,” he said. “He works on my car, so it wouldn’t be hard to strike up a conversation with him about Cherry. I mean, if you want to follow up on him. He might say more to another guy than he would to you.” His eyes fixed on Jessica.

“That’s probably true.” She’d trust Bobby to be more tactful in that situation than Trey would be.

“I will, then.” He seemed to slide back as if into the wall, effacing himself. Maybe he felt awkward being drawn into this situation, but after all, he’d been involved from the beginning. The Morgan family clearly trusted him to be discreet.

“I’ll look into the symbol,” Leo said. “If that’s all right with everyone. Geneva, might I borrow the hex sign from Blake’s collection?”

“Of course. I’ll get it for you.” Geneva started to rise, but Jessica held up a hand to delay her.

“One other thing I thought you might help me with. I’d like to find an informal setting to talk with Elizabeth Esch, Thomas’s sister. I had a feeling she knew something she wasn’t willing to say in front of her parents.”

“I’d love to do that.” Geneva beamed at the idea of something useful. “I’ll tell her we’re making strawberry jam. We can do a lot of chatting over a batch of jam.”

Jessica half expected a protest from Trey at that, but none came. Maybe, after Geneva’s adventure with the television reporter, he’d given up trying to keep her out of Thomas’s defense.

“I need to speak with one of Cherry’s coworkers,” she said. “I’ll try to set that up for tomorrow.”

“I’ll drive you,” Trey said immediately.

“That’s not necessary.” Being alone in a car with Trey, the echo of Chip’s hints sounding between them…no, she didn’t want that. “I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be able to drive myself.”

His jaw tightened. “I’ll drive you,” he repeated, in a voice that didn’t brook argument.

“Is there anything we’re missing?” Leo said, with an air of shoving himself between two combatants. “Geneva, have you had any more unpleasantness after your interview?” He sounded just as disapproving as Trey had, although not so hot under the collar.

Geneva’s cheeks grew pink. “Not what I’d call unpleasant. I mean, if people are childish enough to say they don’t want to serve on a committee with me because of my principles, I can’t help that.”