Hidden in Plain View

by Diane Burke

  “That car is going awfully fast.” Sarah clasped the frame of the window and leaned her head out for a closer look. “But Molly shouldn’t be scared. She’s used to cars on the road.”

  The driver of the car revved the engine and sped even faster toward them.

  “This one isn’t operating like the normal drivers Molly is used to,” Sam said. “No wonder she’s spooked. The fool shouldn’t be speeding on a country road like this. It’s dangerous.” Samuel edged the mare to the side of the road, being sure to leave plenty of space for the car to pass, and then brought the buggy to a stop. “Let’s wait and let him go by.”

  Within seconds the car flew past. His tires spewed an arc of gravel and dust. Samuel ducked as he was pummeled with the spray. Although Sarah couldn’t hear the words he muttered under his breath, she was certain he wasn’t happy.

  Once the car passed, Sam made a clicking sound with his mouth, bounced the reins and eased Molly and the buggy back onto the lane. They’d gone only a few dozen yards when Molly stopped dead in her tracks and whinnied loudly.

  One look told Sarah all she needed to know. “Samuel.” Her blood froze in her veins. She tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice when she spoke. “He’s coming back. Why would he be coming back?”

  Sam didn’t answer. By now he had done all he could do to control the frightened horse. Again he moved them to the shoulder of the road, and again the car rushed past at a dangerous, accelerated speed, veering toward them like a bull charging a matador.

  “Did you see the driver?” Sam asked. The set of his square jaw and a grim frown on his face revealed his own tension regarding this strange and unforeseen situation. “Could it be teenagers playing a dangerous prank?”

  “I don’t think so, Samuel.” Sarah strained her neck to see behind them. “I’m certain I only saw one man in the car.”

  Within seconds the car came back—faster, closer, more threatening. This time the side of the car actually scraped against the buggy. Molly whinnied, pawed the earth and tried to run to the right. Samuel struggled to keep control of the terrified animal. While he fought with the reins, he yelled, “Get my cell phone out of my pocket. Hurry!”

  Sarah didn’t hesitate. She scooted over as close as she could get, allowed her hand to slide across the warmth of his chest until she located the small cell phone tucked in the pocket of his shirt. She withdrew it immediately and held it in an outstretched palm.

  Once Molly had calmed, Sam chanced loosening his grip on the reins and grabbed the phone out of her hand. Within seconds he had called his sergeant, given their location and asked for immediate backup.

  But the call was too late.

  Sarah watched in horror, unable to believe her eyes. The car crested the rise and increased its speed until it seemed to be flying. Sarah clutched his sleeve and pointed. “Samuel, look. He’s driving right at us!”

  Already pulled as far off the road as possible, Samuel had nowhere else to go. The car was to their left and closing the distance between them. The horse, against the fence to their right, whinnied in fear. She reared to her hind legs in panic.

  “Get out!” Samuel yelled and pushed hard. She fell between the buggy and the fence.

  The horse reared to her hind legs. Seconds later the car smashed into the buggy. Sam flew through the air and landed with such force, he momentarily blacked out.

  When he opened his eyes, he pulled himself to a sitting position. He grabbed his head in an attempt to stop the waves of pain and dizziness trying to claim him. Taking a deep breath, he dared to look at the carnage. His brain didn’t seem to want to register what he saw. Pieces of buggy were strewn all over the road and well into the fields on both sides of the lane. The car, although it must have sustained considerable damage, had managed to drive off and was out of sight.

  Sam scrambled to his feet, stumbling and half running toward the fence. He stopped abruptly when he was only a few steps away, an expression of relief on his face which was immediately replaced by one of anxiety.

  Tears streamed down Sarah’s face.

  “Sarah? Are you all right?” He stepped closer but didn’t touch her.

  Sarah laughed uncontrollably and she could see by Sam’s expression that he didn’t know what to make of it but she couldn’t stop. Her anxiety level was high and the laughter seemed to be her body’s way of coping.

  “Look!” Sarah pointed toward Molly, and a fresh wave of giggles erupted from her. “Molly is ready to take us home.”

  Sam looked in the direction she pointed. The horse stood docilely by, still in harness. The remnants of what was left of the front seat of the buggy were wrapped in the reins. To a passerby, it would look like the horse forgot the buggy altogether and waited for her master to take their seats so she could pull them home.

  Sarah took a second glance at him and came to his side instantly. “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s just a scratch.”

  She probed his wound. The soft, feathery touch of her fingers against the heat of his skin was almost his undoing. He clasped her wrist and stilled her hand.

  Their eyes locked. Sam thought he would never be able to pull his gaze away from the glistening blue pools staring back at him. Her lips were slightly parted and only a breath out of reach—and he wanted to reach, to taste, to lose himself in a stolen, forbidden kiss.

  “Samuel?” The whisper of his name on her lips brought him back to sanity. He was her bodyguard, her protector, and he couldn’t let himself pretend or even hope for one moment that he could be anything else.

  “It’s just a bump.” The huskiness in his voice made a lie of his sudden aloofness. But still, he had to try. “How about you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  Sarah stared hard at him, searching his face for something, an answer to an unasked question that hung in the air between them. Slowly she smiled—a sad smile, an understanding smile—and she withdrew her wrist from his grasp.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered.

  He knew she didn’t understand his emotional withdrawal, and a deep, clenching pain seized his heart with the knowledge that he was causing her pain. But he had a job to do—and a different world to go home to.

  Turning away, Sarah crossed the few feet to her horse and lovingly stroked the mare’s neck. “Good girl, Molly.” She ran her hand along the animal’s back and crouched down to run her fingers over all four legs. When she seemed satisfied that Molly was uninjured, she looked over her shoulder at him.

  “Why, Samuel?” Her face still wet with tears, her laughter faded to hiccuping breaths. “Poor Molly could have been hurt or worse. We could have been killed. Why would anyone do such a careless thing?”

  “It was not careless, Sarah. It was deliberate and premeditated. Just like the shooting in the schoolhouse. Just like the fires on the farms.”

  He withdrew his gun from his shoulder holster.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah looked at the weapon in his hand as if he held a poisonous snake.

  “I won’t be caught unprepared again. I never should have agreed to Jacob’s terms. I will no longer carry an empty gun for fear of offending Amish sensibilities.”

  “No, Samuel, please. There must be another way.” She choked and had difficulty forcing out her words.

  The pain on her face seized his heart and made it difficult for him to draw a breath. Right now he hated himself for what he knew she must be thinking of him. She was seeing a side of him she’d heard about, knew existed, but until now hadn’t seen.

  She straightened and stared hard at him.

  “Violence is never the Amish way, Samuel.”

  He broke his gaze away from her pleading eyes and slammed the clip into the base of the weapon.

  “I’ve told you before, Sarah. I am not Amish. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

 
THIRTEEN

  Captain Rogers offered Sam a cup of hot coffee. Sam was pretty sure it had been the captain’s coffee, but he accepted it gratefully.

  “That’s a pretty good knot on your forehead. Maybe you should get it checked out. I can put someone else on Sarah’s protection detail until you get back.”

  Sam glanced across the dozen yards that separated him from Sarah. Past the local police and state trooper cars. Past the flashing strobe lights. Finally resting on the ambulance that had pulled up a short time ago.

  He could see Sarah sitting in the back as the paramedics checked her out. He’d done a cursory check of her before they’d arrived, and other than suffering a few bumps and bruises from being thrown out of the buggy, she appeared physically fine.

  Emotionally, however? She hadn’t spoken a word to him since he’d loaded his weapon, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she ever would again.

  He couldn’t erase the memory of the look on Sarah’s face. For the first time since they’d met, the reality of what he did for a living had seemed to come crashing down on her. She’d seen him in cop mode, gun in hand, ready to kill—and her look of horror pierced his soul.

  “Sam? Did you hear me? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Captain. I heard you and I’m fine. No need to replace me. Thanks.”

  “Did you see who did it?”

  “No. It happened too fast, and I needed to focus my attention on controlling the horse. I couldn’t get a license plate number. It was a dark blue sedan. Didn’t look like a foreign model, and probably wasn’t more than a year or two old. What I am sure about is that the perp held pedal to the metal. This was deliberate.” He dumped out what was left in his cup. “Sarah confirmed that it was a sole driver.”

  Captain Rogers nodded. “Luckily I’d driven up from the city this morning to take a look at the situation for myself. I was with the sheriff when the call came in. We set up roadblocks the second you called it in. He put out a BOLO for any car in the area with body damage, but so far it hasn’t turned up anything.”

  “We both know it was our guy.”

  Rogers planted his hands on his hips. The scowl on his face as he stared out over the accident scene said it all.

  “He’s leaving bodies in his wake, and we can’t touch him.” His superior scratched his head. “He burned down five local barns in one night. He attacked the two of you on the road. And he’s still a ghost. No name. No picture. No leads.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “He’s a cocky character. Always one step ahead of us. No question he knows we’ve got state troopers, local police and undercover officers in place. Nothing deters him. He’s fearless.”

  “We’ll see how fearless he is once I get my hands on him.”

  “Is that your brain talking, King, or your emotions?” Captain Rodgers clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve got to keep your wits about you if you’re going to catch this guy. He’s smart, Sam...and deadly.”

  “You think?” Sam laughed mirthlessly. “He administered an almost lethal dose of potassium to Sarah right under my nose. He killed the relief cop guarding her door. He killed my partner. You think I don’t know the evil I’m dealing with?”

  Captain Rogers returned a hard, steady gaze. “Evil, huh? You know, I’ve never discussed your religious beliefs with you before, Sam. But this time you might be right. If we are dealing with evil personified, it wouldn’t hurt if you took a moment and had a conversation with the man upstairs. We sure could use some help on this one.”

  Rogers walked back to join the sheriff just as Jacob and Rebecca’s buggy pulled up.

  The two of them spoke briefly to one of the officers, and then Rebecca raced to the back of the ambulance. After another short conversation with the paramedics, Rebecca wrapped her arm around Sarah and ushered her to their buggy. Before she climbed on board, Sarah threw a glance over her shoulder and her gaze locked with his. Without a word, she climbed into the buggy.

  Jacob followed her gaze, spotted Sam and walked over to where he stood.

  “You’ve been hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  The man studied his face, looked as if he was going to argue that statement and then decided to keep his counsel.

  “Please, can you take Sarah home? She’s been through a lot and must be exhausted.” When Jacob turned to go, Sam clasped his arm. “Make sure you ask the sheriff to send one of his men with you until I finish up here and can get back. And Jacob, keep Sarah inside the house. Period.”

  Jacob nodded and walked briskly back to the buggy. A police cruiser, lights flashing, pulled out and slowly followed the buggy as it turned and headed back the way it had come.

  Sam stood at the side of the lane and watched until they disappeared over the rise. He couldn’t erase the memory of what he’d seen in Sarah’s eyes when she looked across the distance between them. He saw confusion and shock. He saw vulnerability and fear and sadness. And he saw something else he couldn’t quite identify.

  Please, Lord, don’t let it be disgust.

  Sam hung his head. For the first time in over a decade, he wished he wasn’t a cop.

  * * *

  Captain Rogers arranged for additional men on the property. Jacob and Rebecca bristled beneath the added police presence. Jacob felt their agreement had been breached. Sam was the only officer who was supposed to be on his property, and Jacob didn’t like the betrayal. But at least they were trying to make the best of the situation. Rebecca invited the officers to join them for dinner. Jacob treated his guests with the hospitality of the Amish. The officers sensed the polite but distant ambience of their hosts, and nobody at the table was happy right now.

  Rebecca offered a platter of fried chicken to one of the men. “Would you like some more, Officer Jenkins?”

  The man smiled and raised a hand in a halting motion. “No, ma’am. I couldn’t eat one more bite. Everything was delicious. Thank you for the invitation.”

  “A man needs to eat.” Jacob glanced at his guest. “I wouldn’t want you to go away hungry.”

  The officer hid his chuckle in a napkin. Jacob did little to hide how much he hoped the officers would be getting ready to leave.

  Both men stood up. “Thank you again for your hospitality. We’ll be sitting outside in our squad cars if you need us. Just call.”

  The other man, Officer Muldoon, gave a curt nod in agreement with that statement and reached out to grab a chicken leg off the platter. “I’m gonna save this piece for later, if you don’t mind.” He raised it in the air as he backed toward the door. “I can’t remember ever eating chicken so good.”

  “Will you be staying all night?” Jacob scowled at the men.

  “Yes, sir. Our replacements will be here first thing in the morning.”

  “You can’t sit in the car all night.” Jacob’s gruff tone caught everyone’s attention. He placed his napkin on the table and rose. “Kumm, I will make a place for you in the barn. I have an oil burner. It will be warm.”

  “Thank you, sir. That would be much appreciated.” They stood and followed Jacob out to the barn.

  When the men left, the silence around the kitchen table became stifling. Sam glanced back and forth between Rebecca and Sarah. When neither woman spoke, he turned his attention to his meal. Although the aroma of fried chicken mingled in the air with the scent of cinnamon atop baked apples, Sam found no enjoyment in the dinner. It was simply fuel that his body needed. When he was finished, he thanked them and walked out of the room.

  He grabbed a hurricane lamp and stepped out on the porch. Placing the lamp on the table, he sat down in one of the rockers and stared into the darkness.

  Waves of pain washed over him as memories of days past entwined with the emotions of today’s events. Pieces of buggy scattered and strewn in multiple directions. The sound of screams
in the stillness of the night. A frightened whinny of a horse. A racing, reckless driver making stupid, irresponsible, dangerous choices. The sight of blood and lifeless bodies crumpled beneath wreckage as he scrambled through the carnage, begging and praying for survivors, only to find none.

  His breath came in short, shallow gasps. Faces, sounds and sights raced through his mind.

  He hadn’t allowed himself to go to this deep, dark place for more than a decade. But here it was again. As though it had just happened, the pain fresh and intense.

  He couldn’t take it anymore. He bowed his head, cupped his face in his hands and sobbed.

  * * *

  Sarah helped Rebecca clear the table. She washed the dishes while Rebecca dried and put them away. Rebecca tried to maintain idle chatter, and when she realized Sarah was in no mood to talk—not about what to make for dinner tomorrow or even about how well Nathan’s wife was recovering from her injury, and definitely not about the horrible events of the day—she finished her chores in silence.

  Sarah couldn’t think of anything but the day’s events and the haunted look she saw in Samuel’s eyes every time he looked at her. What had she done wrong? She knew she shouldn’t have tried to stop him from loading his gun. He was a police officer, and that was a huge component of his job. But had that been enough to cause the anger and pain she saw in his eyes?

  Still, she couldn’t shake the way he had looked at her. Something was terribly wrong.

  Once the chores were complete, Rebecca shooed Sarah into the living room. She told her to go sit in front of the fire. She’d make them a kettle of tea as soon as she was finished washing the floor.

  Sarah left the kitchen but she didn’t sit by the fire. Instead, she donned her sweater and slipped outside to find Samuel. She didn’t have to go far. As soon as she stepped outside, she saw him sitting on the far end of the porch. He was hunched over, his face covered with his hands. She couldn’t be sure, but from the muffled sounds she heard and the shaking of his shoulders, she thought he might be crying.