Danger in Plain Sight (11 page)

Funny, how all the things she’d heard her father say about the importance of the land came back to her now. Dad had considered it a family responsibility to protect the township from the kind of haphazard development that had occurred elsewhere in the county.

She slid out of the car, zipping her anorak against the cold wind. She’d borrowed a small digital camera from her mother, mainly because she didn’t feel right without one, though she could snap photos on her cell phone if need be. She dropped the camera into her pocket and picked her way through patches of snow and half-frozen mud toward the building.

It was going to be two stories, and much bigger than she’d imagined. She’d pictured Tom Sylvester putting up a little mom-and-pop operation to amuse himself in his retirement, but this place was big enough to rival the more upscale chains.

Pulling the camera out, Libby snapped a few photos. No point to it, maybe, but still…the situation was odd, to put it mildly.

She’d convinced herself that whatever had upset Esther, it had to be something that involved both English and Amish in some way. This project apparently qualified, even though she couldn’t see what Esther’s connection to it might be. Her family didn’t live near enough that Isaac would have been trying to add acreage.

Look for the connection
. She’d heard that often enough in the newsroom. So, she’d look.

A couple of wooden planks laid together over a trench seemed the only access to the building itself. No one was here. She wouldn’t get a better chance to have a look inside.

She started up the slanted planks. Hiking boots would have been a better choice than the leather ones she had on. She took another step, her foot sliding, and flung her arms out for balance, breath coming quickly.

Okay. Worst-case scenario was that she’d fall into the trench and end up wet and muddy. No need to panic. Inching her way, she reached the top and stepped inside.

The first floor was already partially partitioned off. If she was interpreting it correctly, there was going to be a restaurant as well as the hotel lobby in this area. Frowning, she snapped off a few more pictures. Where did Tom Sylvester get the funds to put up something this extensive?

She walked around another partition, trying to visualize the layout. Her boots echoed on the wooden subfloor, the only sound. Eerie, how quiet it was. The snow that still blanketed the earth seemed to muffle ordinary noises.

A chill slid down her back. She ought to be at the hospital, seeing how Esther was, instead of playing girl detective. Even if this building was what had Esther upset, she wouldn’t learn anything by looking at it. She’d have to dig deeper than that.

She turned back the way she’d come, camera still in her hand, and froze. Footsteps. She wasn’t the only one here.

For a moment Libby couldn’t move. Then she shook her head. Stupid. It would be one of the workmen, or maybe a watchman who’d seen her car and come to investigate. Well, there was nothing to be done but to brazen it out.

“Hello?” She strode toward the exit with more assurance than she felt. “Is someone there?”

No answer for a few seconds. And then a burly figure stepped from behind a partition into her path, filling it entirely, a dark silhouette against the rectangle of the entrance beyond him.

“What are you doing here?” He growled the words, taking a step toward her. “This is private property.”

“Just having a look around. There’s no harm in that, is there?” She forced herself to move toward him.

Big, though not as big as she’d thought in that first instant. He was hefty rather than tall, wearing faded jeans that sagged below his belly and a camouflage jacket. The stains on the jacket and the stubble on his face suggested that he didn’t care much about his appearance.

“Private property,” he growled again.

“Yes, I get that. I understand Tom Sylvester is putting up this building. When is it scheduled to be finished?”

He blinked. “If you know Mr. Sylvester, you better ask him yourself.”

“I’ll do that.” She started past him, moving briskly.

“Hey, what are you doing with that camera? You can’t go around taking pictures in here.” He reached for the camera.

She skittered past, headed for the ramp. If he chased her—

He took a few menacing steps, raising his hand, and she realized that he held a hammer.

“Stay away, ’less you want to get hurt. You hear?” He took another step.

Libby went down the planks considerably faster than she’d gone up them.
Don’t give him the satisfaction of running, but don’t dawdle, either
. She went quickly toward the car and opened the door. Then she looked back.

He was turning, apparently satisfied that he’d chased her off.

“Hey!” she shouted.

He spun. Raising the camera, she snapped off a picture of him and slid into the car.

Smart. Too smart, maybe, because the wheels spun uselessly in the slush, and he was coming toward her, the hammer raised—

The wheels caught, and she spun out the gravel lane and lurched onto the road.

She took a deep breath, then another. She’d been too cocky for her own good, probably, but she didn’t like being scared.

And whatever the man had intended, he’d just succeeded in rousing her curiosity. Tom Sylvester didn’t know it, but he was about to have a visitor.

* * *

A FEW MINUTES later, Libby was trying the doorknob at the small storefront office that was apparently the headquarters of Sylvester Construction. It was locked, and no one seemed to be stirring inside. Shielding her eyes with her hand against the glare, she peered in.

Sylvester’s new business didn’t look particularly prosperous. A battered aluminum desk, a chair, a filing cabinet. No phones, no computers, nothing much to suggest that business was conducted here.

She eyed the filing cabinet. Lacking a computer, Sylvester’s secrets might be found there, but she could hardly break in.

A tall figure loomed next to hers in the glass. “Planning a break-in?” Adam asked.

“Of course not.” She jerked back from the window, hoping her face didn’t give her away at his echoing her thoughts. Adam had a remarkably piercing gaze when he wanted to.

He raised an eyebrow. “So what are you doing? This doesn’t look like your kind of place.”

She responded in kind. “My kind of place? What is my kind of place?”

She’d actually succeeded in disturbing that stoic facade. His eyes flickered.

“Anything other than an empty construction company office,” he said.

She shrugged. “I’m just a hardworking photojournalist. I’ve been in a lot worse places, believe me.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer the question of what you’re doing here.” He folded his arms across the front of his heavy uniform jacket and leaned against the doorjamb, apparently ready to stay there as long as it took.

“Link remembered something this morning,” she said abruptly, then realized Adam still might not know what she was talking about. “You remember what we discussed last night…trying to think what Esther could have wanted to see me about.”

He nodded. “You said it had to be something that would affect both Amish and English.”

So he did remember. “I still think that. And this morning Link told me about that new motel Tom Sylvester is building, and how he’d snatched the land away from some Amish farmers who wanted it. And that no one could understand why the planning commission had given him permission to build there—”

“What would be Esther’s involvement with that?” His cool tone dumped water on her enthusiasm.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I thought it was worth looking into. Do you know how he got that project okayed?”

He shrugged. “Not my business. That’s why we have a planning commission.”

“I would have found out. I’d want to know.” She preferred to believe it was reporter’s instinct rather than rampant curiosity.

“So you planned to tackle Tom at his office and demand answers?”

Again with the raised eyebrow. That was beginning to seriously annoy her.

“Actually, I stopped at the site and had a look around first. And I had a rather unpleasant encounter with a workman.”

“You were snooping around a construction site? Libby, don’t you have any sense? You could have been hurt.”

“I was perfectly safe, except maybe from the worker or watchman or whatever he was. He told me to stay away or I’d get hurt, and from him, that sounded like a threat.”

Adam blew out a breath of what was probably exasperation. “I might do the same, if I caught a stray female snooping around a construction area.”

Her temper rose. “That’s a sexist remark, Chief Byler. Better watch it.”

She watched in fascination as he obviously tried to control himself. Was she actually about to see stoic Adam lose his temper?

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Just leave the investigating to me, will you?”

“How can I?” All of her frustration and worry seemed to boil over. “How can I, when you’re not willing to take my suspicions seriously? Maybe you’re too afraid to make waves—”

She didn’t finish that sentence, not that she even wanted to, because Adam grabbed her arm and hustled her into the police car that sat at the curb. He got in after her.

She managed to catch her breath once he’d let her go. She turned, so that she could see his face. “Are you going to arrest me for being annoying?”

The corner of his mouth twitched before he got it under control. “If I were arresting you, you’d be in the backseat. That was not a conversation I wanted to have on a public street. Do you want your suspicions all over the township by nightfall?”

“No.” She took a breath. “Sorry.”

Adam turned sideways in the seat so that he was facing her. Facing her and way too close to her in the confines of the police car. Her pulse skittered, and her breath seemed to get caught in her throat. He wasn’t touching her, but he might as well have been, given the way she was reacting.

Get a grip,
she ordered herself, but the words didn’t seem to help much. Even Link had noticed the sparks between her and Adam, and Link wasn’t the most observant person in the world when it came to emotions.

She’d basically thrown herself at Adam, back when they were in high school, acting on the crush she’d had on him. And he’d responded, just for an instant, before he made her feel like a fool.

Then all the talk had started about him and Sally, and she’d been only too eager to believe it, because it meant she could tell herself she hated him with a clear conscience. And when she had found out the truth, her apologies had led to a moment so real, so true, that she’d been sure they loved each other, right up until the moment he’d walked out. Or run out, more likely.

She still didn’t understand what happened that night. They’d both been old enough to know what they were doing by then. He’d stopped to see her when he was in the city for some police seminar; she’d invited him to dinner and they’d spent hours talking and reminiscing. When they’d kissed, it had seemed something that was always meant to happen. But apparently she was the only one who thought that.

Did Adam sense her emotions? For a moment he seemed almost confused. Unsure of himself, and Adam was never unsure. He knew his duty and he did it.

He shook his head slightly. “Libby, this is an ongoing police investigation. I can’t discuss the particulars with you, but I promise I’m not ignoring any possibilities. If there is something else behind Esther’s hit-and-run, I’ll find it.”

His sincerity grabbed her by the heart.

“Please, Libby.” His fingers closed over hers, and she couldn’t breathe. “Trust me to deal with this. Will you?”

She couldn’t speak. She nodded.

Apparently satisfied, Adam let go of her. She shot out of the car, knowing it looked as if she was running and not caring.