by Marta Perry
Sarah looked about to ask another question, but her attention was diverted when her brothers popped up in front of her. Jonah and Thomas had been detailed to run errands for them, with little Noah tagging along behind. They looked expectant, and it seemed Jonah had been appointed spokesperson for them, because he stepped to the front.
“Do you want us to do anything chust now, Sarah?” Jonah spoke the best English of the three of them, she’d noticed, other than a few difficulties with the j sound.
Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “Not right now. I wouldn’t wonder but that you want to go and get a treat, ain’t so?”
Three blond heads nodded in unison. “Ja, please.”
“I guess we can do without you for a little while, ain’t so, Allison?”
“I expect so.” Allison fished a ten-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Jonah. “You get something to share, okay?”
“Denke, Allison.” Jonah grinned. “It’s wonderful kind of you.”
“Just don’t bring any cotton candy back in with you,” Sarah warned as they sprinted toward the door. “Ach, you wouldn’t believe the mess that makes.”
Allison grinned. “You’re forgetting I have two little brothers. They brought cotton candy in the car one time. Believe me, it was the last time. It took three washings to get it out of my hair.”
Sarah chuckled. “Cotton candy aside, you should try some food from the stands. The Methodists have great barbecue sandwiches, and the Presbyterians are making fresh-cut French fries, I heard.”
“What about the Amish?” she asked.
“Funnel cakes,” Sarah said promptly. “And whoopie pies. Mamm is making funnel cakes this morning. Sehr gut.”
“I’ll try one,” she promised.
Sarah rose as a couple of women approached the stand, and she was soon deep in conversation with one of them.
Allison tackled the other, who was scanning the table, obviously searching for something in particular.
“May I help you find something?” she asked, hoping she’d know how to respond.
“I was hoping to find some nice quilted table runners.” The woman, middle-aged and rotund, seemed determined to touch every object on the table. “You had some last year,” she added, sounding aggrieved.
“I’m sure we do. I remember seeing some.” But a cursory search failed to turn up the desired item.
“Maybe somebody else will have them?” The woman started to turn away, her purse stubbornly closed.
Allison’s competitive spirit rose. “Just one second.” She turned to Sarah. “Sarah, didn’t we have a couple of boxes of quilted place mats and table runners?”
“I’m sure we did.” Sarah ran an experienced eye down the tables. “Ach, I think those were the boxes we put up on the attic steps, remember? I guess they were never brought back down.”
She remembered perfectly, now that Sarah had reminded her. They’d carried a few boxes upstairs to store them when the storeroom started to overflow.
“I’ll run up and get them.” She smiled at the potential buyer. “If you’ll just look around for a few minutes, I’ll come right back.”
“I should go—” Sarah began, but Allison was already out from behind the table.
“You can’t leave,” she said. “You’re the only one who knows about the pricing. It will just take me a minute.”
Actually, it would be good to get away from the buzz of noise for a few minutes. At first she’d been swept up in the excitement, but she had begun to long for a break.
Allison hurried down the hall, dodging shoppers. Their temporary lull seemed to be over, as a steady stream of people flowed through the door. She went up the stairs quickly, glad her stiffness had begun to pass away. Another few days and she probably wouldn’t have any unpleasant reminders of her encounter in the bookshop.
She emerged into the upstairs hall, automatically noticing that a push broom had been left leaning against the wall next to the stairs. She’d really have to speak to the custodian. Somehow she doubted that Evelyn would have let him get away with such carelessness.
She hurried to her office, pulling the keys from her pocket. Hector, snoozing on a stack of files on her desk, opened one eye, then jumped down to come and weave circles around her feet.
“I know.” She stroked his back. “You don’t like being shut in here, but there are too many people going in and out today. You’re safer here.”
Hector didn’t appreciate her reasoning, she supposed. He’d already become used to having the run of the building, and he’d probably gained a pound from the snacks Ralph kept sneaking him.
She unlocked the attic door. If the boxes weren’t here— But they were, and she bent to lift the two stacked boxes in her arms. Not heavy but bulky, they stuck out in front of her. She closed the door again with her foot, just in time to keep Hector from darting up to the attic in search of the mice he seemed to believe dwelt there.
“Sorry. You stay here.” Fending him off, Allison slipped out of the office, balancing the boxes on her hip while she locked the door.
She headed back down the hall, hearing the rumble of voices from downstairs, louder now. Obviously foot traffic had increased. She’d better get downstairs and help Sarah.
At the top of the staircase she paused, feeling with her foot for the edge of the step. The noise was louder here, and she could see the people milling around the hall as they moved from table to table.
One of the volunteers glanced up and met her gaze, and she recognized him as the Amish firefighter Sarah had known. She took a step down, her elbow against the railing, and suddenly his face changed. He lunged toward the steps, shouting something, just as she stepped down. Something hit her ankle, her foot slipped, the boxes lurching. Then they were falling and she was falling, too, helplessly out of control, stumbling down the stairs and trying to grasp something, anything to hang on to—
She ran abruptly into a solid body, stopping her headlong plunge, and then others were there, everyone exclaiming at once, some in English, some in Pennsylvania Dutch.
Helping hands eased her to a sitting position on the stairs, and then Nick was there, touching her gently.
“Are you all right? Allison, tell me where you’re hurt. Did you hit your head?”
She tried to shake her head, but a wave of dizziness swamped her, and she lowered it to her knees instead.
“Easy, just sit still.” Nick’s palm cradled her head.
“Some of the paramedics are right outside,” a male voice said. “They’re coming now.”
She’d argue that she didn’t need them, but she couldn’t seem to form the words. She heard Sarah’s voice, felt Sarah slide on to the step next to her and put an arm around her waist.
“What happened?” Nick sounded angry. “Did anyone see?”
“Ja.” It was the same male voice, and Allison managed to peek up long enough to assure herself that it was indeed the man Sarah had identified as Aaron King.
“I saw her coming down with the boxes and was going to help her. Then I saw the broom—wedged across the stairs it was, a couple of steps down. Most likely she couldn’t see it because of the boxes.”
The broom. There was something about the broom...
“It wasn’t on the steps when I went up.” She glanced up and immediately regretted it and leaned her forehead against her hand. “It was against the wall, a couple of feet away.”
“Somebody must have brushed against it,” Aaron said slowly. “Careless, not stopping to move it again.”
“Maybe so.” Nick’s hand clasped hers, holding it tightly. He knew, just as well as she did, that this was no accident.
* * *
“I DON’T NEED to go to the emergency room.” Allison was still protesting when the EMTs loaded her into the ambulance.
/> Nick climbed in after her. “Give them a break,” he said. “They don’t have a chance to take someone to the hospital every day. And it’s the least they can do when you’ve been raising money for them all day.”
“That’s right.” Traci Elder, the newest member of the rescue squad, smiled at Allison and smoothed a blanket over her. “You let us do our job, okay?
Nick knelt, taking Allison’s hand and not caring whether somebody saw him or not. “Just listen to her.” He pressed her fingers. “Here’s poor Traci getting her first shot at treating somebody. You don’t want to spoil it for her.”
Allison lips relaxed into a slight smile. “All right, all right. But this better not cost me an arm and a leg.”
“Everybody’s volunteering their services today,” he said, relieved at seeing the smile.
Almost immediately Allison’s face darkened again. “That broom—”
“I know,” he said quickly, darting a glance at Traci, who seemed preoccupied with filling out a chart. “Mac is taking care of it. Don’t worry about it now.”
“Okay.” Her eyes closed as they hit a pothole turning into the hospital lot. “I won’t.”
He held her hand in both of his. I’ll do it for you, he promised silently.
When they reached the emergency entrance, Allison was whisked away from him immediately, taken to a curtained cubicle to await the doctor, who’d apparently been busy with one chest pain, two upset stomachs and one shortness of breath already today. Nick stood in the hall waiting. Wondering.
The door swung open to admit his brother. “How is she?”
“Waiting for the doctor.” He took Mac’s elbow and guided him over to the window, hopefully out of earshot. “What about that broom?”
“Well, it didn’t jump out and throw itself across the stairs,” Mac said. “Either someone knocked it down or someone put it there.”
“Who would knock it over and not pick it up again?” Nick demanded.
“I know, I know.” Mac frowned. “That business in the bookshop wasn’t necessarily aimed at her. In fact, it seems more likely that if anyone came in, it would be Ralph.”
He had to agree. “Right. Whoever it was just wanted to get away without being seen, the way I figure it. But what happened today...”
“I talked to Sarah,” Mac said. “According to her, Allison went upstairs to get a couple of boxes of things they’d forgotten to bring down. She says anyone could have heard them talking.”
Nick nodded. “And anyone might have figured Allison would be coming back carrying things, maybe not able to see what was under her feet.”
“Improvised, but serious. And pretty darn safe for the perp. He was probably downstairs mingling with the crowd by the time she fell. She might have managed to catch herself, but if she didn’t, and if Aaron King hadn’t happened to look up at just the right moment...well, it’s a long way down to that marble floor.”
“Far enough to kill Evelyn,” Nick reminded him.
“The doc says Evelyn had a stroke,” Mac said.
“But he couldn’t say whether she fell because she had a stroke or whether she had a stroke because she fell.”
Mac shrugged. “Amounted to the same thing in the end.” He held up his hand to prevent the protest he clearly saw coming from Nick.
“Look, I’m not saying there aren’t a few unanswered questions about Evelyn Standish’s death. But it looks to me as if several people have an interest in chasing Allison out of town, regardless.”
“Thomas Blackburn wants Blackburn House. He’s not likely to get it if Allison stays her year and claims it.” Nick ticked the names off on his fingers. “Brenda Standish Conner. She wants the money Blackburn House represents, I’d say. Then there’s her daughter. Would Krysta be likely to seize a chance like this?”
“I don’t know her well enough to say, but Allison did mention the repeated offers from Brenda and Blackburn.” Mac frowned. He didn’t like not knowing the people in his jurisdiction. He’d said more than once that a lot of small-town policing involved knowing who’d be likely to do what.
“There are the other Blackburns, as well,” Nick pointed out. “I don’t think Tommy’s interested in much beyond his golf game, but young T.J. seems ripe for trouble.”
Mac seemed to consider the list. “What about any of the current tenants? Anybody who’d rather take their chances on a known quantity like Brenda inheriting?”
Nick shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know. On the face of it, I’d say it was unlikely, but it happened. Evelyn didn’t foresee what trouble she was going to cause with her precious will.”
“Trying to control things from beyond the grave like she did in life,” Mac said. “Seems to me that’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Right.” Nick’s jaw set in a hard line. “And Allison’s the one it’s all going to land on.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE LAUREL RIDGE ER seemed loath to let Allison go, but finally she’d talked them into discharging her. With a sprained ankle, a pair of crutches, a splitting headache and the probability of a colorful black eye in addition to the bruises she already possessed, she’d begun to conclude that Laurel Ridge wasn’t exactly the safest place she’d ever been.
“Sure you’re all right?” Nick asked. He eased her into his car as carefully as if she was made of glass. “Maybe you should have stayed at least until tomorrow.”
“They didn’t offer that as a possibility,” she reminded him. “And I wouldn’t have stayed, anyway. I can nurse my bruises at Mrs. Anderson’s as easily as anywhere.”
Looking doubtful, he closed the door gently, as if even a door slam might hurt her, and rounded the car to slide into the driver’s seat. “You don’t have to go to the B and B, you know. Mom would make up the spare room for you in a minute. She’d be delighted.”
“I appreciate it.” Allison gripped the armrest as he made the turn out of the parking lot. Amazing, how it hurt to move even in a car. “But honestly, going someplace else just seems too much effort. All I want right now is to go to bed. The pain med the doctor gave me seems to be acting like a sleeping pill.”
He flashed her a grin. “It might well be.” He sobered a bit, studying the tree-lined street as if it were a strange moonscape. “Best thing you can do is rest. I know Mac wants to talk to you again, but he’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“Did he say that, or are you putting words in his mouth?”
“He’s still my little brother, even if he is the police chief. He’ll wait until you feel well enough to talk to him.”
Given the implied threat in his tone, she suspected Mac would do as he was told.
“Is he at least taking it seriously?” If anyone else mentioned accident to her, she might scream.
“He is.” Nick sounded grim. “We’ll all blaming ourselves right now. We should have kept a better eye on you. I guess none of us expected an attack in broad daylight.”
“Not an attack, exactly.” She tried to be fair. “More like a trap, which I was obliging enough to fall into. If I hadn’t been carrying those boxes, I’d have seen the broom.”
“If someone was watching, he could make a pretty good guess that you were going upstairs to fetch something.” Nick turned down the alley that ran parallel to the blocked-off main street.
“It could have been someone close enough to hear, for that matter. There were people around.” Frowning made her headache worse, and she tried to smooth the wrinkles away with her fingertips. “If we could find out who was in the building at the time...”
“Leave that part of it to Mac,” he said, pulling into the rear driveway at the B and B. “He’s working on it now.” He stopped the car close to the back door. “Let’s get you settled so you can rest.”
With Nick’s strong arm supporti
ng her, Allison made it into the hall without incident. Mrs. Anderson and Sarah rushed to meet her.
“You’ll get right into bed,” Mrs. Anderson scolded. “And I’ll bring you a tray with some hot soup. Nothing like chicken noodle soup to comfort you when you’re feeling bad.”
“You’re right on target, Mrs. A.” Nick leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I can’t convince Allison to go home and let my mom take care of her, but I know you’ll do just as well.”
Sarah clasped Allison’s hand. “We’d love to have you come to us. Mamm said that first thing, but I thought you’d be missing your electric and your computer in an Amish household, ain’t so?”
Allison managed a smile. “I guess I would, at that. Really, nobody needs to fuss over me. I just want to rest.”
“We won’t fuss,” Sarah said. “But Mrs. Anderson is giving me the room adjoining yours for tonight, so I can take care of you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s all settled, so there’s no purpose in arguing.” Sarah sounded remarkably firm for someone who was usually so gentle.
“Well, at least go back to the sale now.” It was surprising how wearing it was to fend off people who wanted to take care of you. Wearing, but nice, too.
“Mamm and my cousin are looking out for things until I get back,” Sarah said. “I can stay and help you get settled...”
“No need. I’m just going to get into bed, eat my soup and take a nap. I’ll talk to you later, all right?” She was beginning to sag. If everyone would just go away and let her rest, she’d be fine.
Maybe Sarah realized that, because she nodded. “I’ll go, then. I’ll see you later.” With a light touch on her arm, Sarah left.
“Well, now, I’ll go and dish up that soup I’ve been keeping hot. Nick, you’d best help Allison up the stairs with those crutches.”