John glanced at me with a confused look, but I immediately understood what was going on.
“You mistake us for your guests. We’re actually here to talk to Jerimiah Stoltzfus. Is he around?” I asked.
The woman’s face grew wide. “Oh, so sorry. I have six rooms booked for tonight for the wedding tomorrow. I just assumed you were here to stay the night with us.” She extended the tray out further. “Take a desert anyway. Jerimiah is out back. He’s trying to fix the lawn mower—and I do mean trying. That machine has given us fits for years. I think it’s high time to buy a new one, but oh no, Jerimiah likes to tinker with the contraption.” She leaned in and covered one side of her mouth. “This time I think the mower has got the best of him. I already called the shop and told them to be expecting us in a day or two.”
I returned her smile and plucked a turnover from the tray. Toby followed suit and so did John, only a little more reluctantly.
“Thank you. They smell delicious,” I gushed.
“You got an apple one.” She turned to Toby and John. “Yours are raspberry.”
“Are you talking about Miriam Coblenz’s wedding?” I asked, biting into the warm pastry.
“Why yes—are you friends?” The woman’s eyes were sharper now as she inclined her head.
“We met last week.” I lifted my shoulders. “She mentioned she was getting married.”
The woman shook her head. “It’s about time if you ask me.” Again she leaned over and lowered her voice, even though the only other people in the room were the marshals and the girl. “For such an attractive woman to be a spinster until the age of thirty-four is unheard of around here.”
I didn’t say anything. I was thirty-four—and I’d just become engaged. The apple and sugar melting in my mouth didn’t erase the sour taste her words had made.
Toby interrupted, probably fearing I was about to make a cutting remark. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”
The woman smiled deeply at him, her cheeks flushing. Over her shoulder she said, “Leanne, take these lovely people out to your father.” She turned back to us. “You better hurry, rain’s coming.”
With a swish of her lavender dress, the girl rounded the corner and we had to stretch our legs to catch up with her. We followed her down a long, narrow hallway and through a screen door that she flung open.
Without a word, she pointed toward a shed and then ran past us back into the house.
“Friendly child,” John commented.
“The girls are usually shy. Don’t take it personally,” I said.
“The mother certainly wasn’t a shrinking violet.” Toby snickered.
I agreed with him, but didn’t bother to respond. John was already shaking hands with Jerimiah.
“This is Serenity Adams and Marshal Bryant. Do you have a minute?”
The man straightened up from the mower and wiped his oily hands on his pants. He was short, overweight and sweating profusely. But the smile on his round face was genuine.
“Of course.” He nodded at the mower. “In a way, you’re rescuing me.”
Toby removed his hat and scratched his head. “I didn’t think your people used lawn mowers.”
Jerimiah’s brow furrowed and then he laughed. “Did you think we cut it by hand?”
Toby shrugged and glanced at me and John. I smiled behind my hand.
The Amish man reached over and slapped Toby’s back. “No worries. Our ways are often misunderstood. In our community, push mowers are allowed, but no riding ones.”
“What’s the difference between the two?” Toby couldn’t let it go and I shot him a murderous look.
Jerimiah twisted the end of his black beard between his fingertips. “It’s been a part of our Ordnung for as long as I remember.” He pursed his lips. “Riding mowers are like cars. We’d get into all kinds of mischief if we had access to those.”
We stared back at Jerimiah and briefly, he managed a still face. Then his lips twitched and he barked out a loud laugh and doubled over.
I raised my brows at John, who merely shrugged. He shot Toby a warning look when Jerimiah finally faced us again.
The wind gusted and I zipped up my jacket, glancing at the darkening sky.
John must have noticed the changing weather too. “Did you know Buddy Prowes?” he rushed out.
The abrupt question made the smile disappear from Jerimiah’s face.
“Yes, I recall the man. He died a long time ago,” he said quietly.
“We’ve reopened the case. The crime was exceptionally brutal. Were you at all afraid of a murderer on the loose in the area?” John asked.
Jerimiah’s brown eyes glanced upwards, indicating that he was trying to remember. If they’d gone down, I would have thought he was fabricating a lie.
“No, no. I don’t remember anyone being fearful for their lives.” He looked away and then back again. “Buddy was the type of person who we all thought would come to a violent end.”
His blasé attitude bothered me. “Kind of like, he lived by the sword, and therefore he was going to die by one. Is that what you mean?”
Jerimiah nodded unabashedly. “That’s right. It wasn’t a surprise.”
“Did you work for Buddy?” John asked.
“Oh no—I’m not a builder.” He swept his arms wide. “I bought this place when I was quite young. It was before I married, so I rented the rooms to other young men like me.”
“At the time, you weren’t Amish, is that correct?” I crossed my arms.
Jerimiah’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, but he recovered quickly. “It’s no secret. I left for a while and then came back. Some of us do that.”
I caught John’s encouraging glance and continued the questioning. “Did anyone on Buddy’s work crew rent here?”
“Several did. Let’s see, there was Lester and Seth, but neither one of them stayed long.” John had his notebook out and was writing, so I didn’t have to. “And Danny Bach.”
“There’s that name again,” John said, scribbling it down. “Something about it strikes me as familiar.”
I found it difficult to breathe, but I forced the air out. Lightning zigzagged across the sky and raindrops began to fall.
“Oh, and then there was Brent Prowes.”
My head snapped up. “Brent lived here?”
Jerimiah nodded, holding his hat firmly to his head as another gust of wind pummeled us. He began inching towards the backdoor and I stopped him.
“For how long?”
“Only a few months. I kicked him out.”
“Why?” John had found his voice.
“Because he killed my dog.”
The rain came down harder and Jerimiah hurried up the back steps. I glanced between John and Toby, and their expressions revealed they felt the same way I did.
“Hey, do you have any rooms available for tonight?” John said as we followed Jerimiah through the doorway to escape the pouring rain.
Jerimiah took his hand off and waved it in the air to dry it. “Martha, how many rooms are vacant?” he called out.
Martha answered from the other room. “Two!”
“Perfect.” John pulled out his wallet. “I’m booking them for the rest of the week.”
I looked out through the streaked window at the watery, green world, feeling confusion, hopelessness and betrayal.
If Daniel was completely innocent, why would he keep this part of his life secret from me?
17
“I don’t like it.” John frowned.
“It’s a good plan. Serenity can handle herself,” Toby argued. “Besides, I’ll be in there with her. I won’t let her out of my sight.”
John’s eyes drifted to the tight, cleavage revealing shirt I’d bought at the Fashion Barn a couple of hours earlier. I tugged i
t up and glared back at him. “This is the only way Brent might open up. If he even gets a whiff of the law, he’ll never say a word. I’ve worked cases with guys like him. He won’t talk to us if we approach him directly.”
“That might be true, but we can’t control the variables inside a bar. Anything can happen.” John continued to frown.
“Sure we can.” Toby leaned in between me and John from the back seat and thrust the notepad at John. He pointed to the drawing of the interior of the building. “I already cased the joint. There’s only one main entrance—and that’s the front door. You can stay parked here and monitor anyone who goes in or out. The back door is in a room behind the counter, and it’s locked. I’ll be in there with her. She’ll be fine.”
“But she’s not a marshal,” John reminded us.
“No, but she isn’t doing anything to entrap him.” He winked at me. “And if things go south, I’m sure she can handle herself. She is a sheriff after all.”
John exhaled, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t doubt you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and anyone else in there—” he met my gaze “—I just don’t want any mistakes that might risk us getting a conviction on this guy if he is our perp. Do you both understand that?”
I nodded. “I’m just going to have a casual conversation with him. He won’t suspect a thing.”
“I hope you’re right. If anything goes wrong in there, it’ll jeopardize our jobs.”
I looked back out the window. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the parking lot was still full of puddles. The Backstreet Bar wasn’t much different from Charlie’s Pub in Blood Rock, except that Charlie’s had a quaint, small town ambiance that made it seem less seedy. This place was a mixture of a biker bar, truck stop sort of establishment that gave me the impression that a lot of its patrons were transients. The two small windows out front were shuttered up and the only lights shining were from the Budweiser and Coors Light signs. My eyes settled on the dented, gray pickup truck across the lot.
I’d had Todd track down Brent’s house and when we arrived there, I called him back to run the license plates of the truck parked out front. We followed him to the bar and then drove across town to Yoder’s Smorgasbord Restaurant. Lucky for us, Tonya had been working and she’d told me that Brent would probably spend the entire evening at the bar. It was over a quick dinner that Toby and I had come up with the plan for me to go undercover to talk to Brent.
Jerimiah had told us the story of how Brent had become angry with his golden retriever for not coming to him when he called him one day. An hour later, Brent went outside and Jerimiah caught him beating the dog with a piece of lumber off the work truck. The dog died in Jerimiah’s arms and he’d ordered Brent off the property for good. I’d asked him why he hadn’t called the police and pressed charges, and he’d only stared at me dull-eyed, saying Brent had been drinking all day and had been depressed about girl troubles. The Amish man didn’t have the heart to have Brent arrested.
I pressed my lips together tightly. It would be difficult to play the part of a friendly woman looking for a good time with a man who would kill a dog in cold blood. Unlike Jerimiah, I didn’t believe there was any excuse to do such a thing. I’d had to shoot an attack dog once that was turned loose on me and Daniel, and even though I had no choice, I still hated doing it—and I hated its owner, Asher Schwartz, for putting me into the position even more.
But the fact that this guy had it in him to do such a thing made it feasible that he could have also killed his brother in a fit of rage. Jim Allen had written Jerimiah’s name down in the file for some reason—maybe he was following the same leads we were.
“You have to be delicate with this guy. If he did murder his brother, he must have been fairly stealthy to get away with it all these years.” John looked at me harder. “He’s dangerous, Serenity. Don’t take any chances with him. See what you can find out and bring the information back to me. That’s it. Oh, and you had better remove your engagement ring.”
I nodded, quickly glancing away. What John didn’t understand was that I had entirely selfish reasons for being so invested in the case. Daniel had something to do with it and until I figured out exactly what his involvement was, I was going to try to protect him.
“I’ll have a Long Island Iced Tea,” I told the bartender.
A ZZ Top song was playing on the jukebox and cloud of cigarette smoke stung my eyes. About a dozen large, tattooed men were at the pool tables. Some were leaning against the dark wooden walls and others gripped billiard cues in their hands. Several women mingled with them. They held mixed drinks, wearing a variety of sleazy, tight clothes. I couldn’t help wrinkling my nose at the cheap perfume permeating the air.
I sipped my drink and swallowed, glancing down the bar. Two men were already engaged in conversation with a pair of young women who looked barely old enough to be in any bar, let alone a shady joint like this one, and another, gray-bearded man stared at the bottle of beer in front of him, too drunk to even talk. But the guy at the end of the bar, sitting kitty corner to me, caught my eye. I’d studied enough pictures of Buddy Prowes to see the family resemblance and was betting he was my guy.
The man was tall, wiry and dark haired. He sported a short-cropped black beard and a deep frown on his face. I stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t return my look, so I shifted my gaze back to Toby, who sat in the corner of the bar. He lifted his chin towards Brent and nodded his head.
My heart began to drum harder and I grunted softly. Early on in my law enforcement career, I’d been called on a few times in investigations to do exactly what I was doing now—look sexy and get a guy to open up about a crime. I never liked doing it. Hell, I didn’t enjoy talking to strangers in general, let alone creepy guys who in most cases, I already knew were rapists. Brent didn’t fit into that category, but he was now a suspect in his brother’s brutal murder—and he’d killed a dog. My stomach clenched as a picture popped into my mind of Brent doing it. It would take all my acting skills to pull this one off. Thank God I’d taken drama class for a couple of years in high school. Mrs. Shumaker had taught me the art of pretending to be someone else. I took another sip of my drink and a deep breath. I was about to become a tipsy, flirty woman.
Picking up my drink, I pushed off the stool and walked around the bar. One of the other men at the bar eyed me up and down, but I ignored him. When I reached the vacant stool beside Brent, I plopped down on it, sitting close beside him.
He finally noticed me. His brown eyes widened and a small smile cracked his lips.
I wasn’t proud to admit I could hold my liquor pretty well and the only chance of this fiasco actually working was if I was believable. I swallowed a gulp and set the glass down. It was now only half full, just the way I wanted. A cold chill passed over me when I thought of Daniel and what he’d think of me going undercover this way for the case, but then I dismissed him. It was because of him I was in this position in the first place. If I played my cards right, he’d never even know anyway.
“Are you ready for another drink?” Brent asked. His slight smile lingered.
“Yes, sir, I am,” I drawled. “I’ve had a bad day—a really bad day. I plan on having several more.” I slumped a little, covered a pretend burp with my hand and fluttered my eyelashes.
Brent flicked his finger at the bartender and a moment later, another Long Island Iced Tea was placed in front of me.
“Thanks. That’s nice of you.” I offered my hand and he shook it. “I’m Serenity.”
“Brent.” He leaned in. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“It’s my first time.” I took another sip, this time smaller, and rolled my head. “Actually, it’s my first trip to Pennsylvania.” I smiled weakly, meeting his gaze. “I can’t say it’s been much fun.”
His brows lifted. “Does it involve a guy?”
I widened m
y eyes, feigning surprise. “Yeah, sure thing. How’d you guess that?”
He shrugged. “I can’t imagine a pretty woman like yourself being so down in the dumps for any other reason.” He gulped the contents of his shot glass. “I’m a good listener.”
I considered Brent’s soft spoken voice and friendly manner and shivered. I hoped he didn’t notice and looked away only long enough to spot Toby across the bar. He’d moved, taking the stool I’d vacated.
Brent didn’t fool me. I’d been around a lot of guys like him before. They were smooth on the outside, but inside, they were psychotic. The occasional twitch of his lips and his shifting eyes told me that even though he was engaging with me, he was still preoccupied with something else. His posture, leaning over and crowding me, showed he was confident and was used to subtly intimidating people. He probably wasn’t that much different from his older brother, Buddy, except that he was able to control his temper better. Miriam was right to stay away from this guy.
I made an exaggerated sigh and turned to Brent. “A couple of months ago, out of the blue, an old boyfriend of mine started calling me. We’d had a rough breakup, so it really surprised me that he’d reached out. I didn’t trust him at first, but after a few calls, I loosened up.” I licked my lips. “He told me he was living here, so I decided to visit in person.” I paused for effect. “I soon discovered he had a live-in girlfriend. What a fool I was.” I glanced at Brent. “Why would he be so nice to me when there was no chance at us being together?”
Brent shook his head and then stared at bottles on the shelf behind the bar. I held my breath, waiting to see if my story struck a nerve with him. Were thoughts of Miriam Coblenz, the Amish woman he’d pined for all these years going through his mind? Or was he possibly thinking about his former sister-in-law, Samantha?
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