“I don’t have any news.” Zach wished he did. He’d do anything to take away Heather’s worry and see her smile. He blinked a few times, then stepped back, determined to maintain the wall of professionalism. He had a job to do. “Not concrete news, anyway,” he clarified.
“What does that mean?” There was an edge to her voice as she turned away from him and shut off the hose in the greenhouse. She seemed to take her time rolling it up.
“Deputy Gates called me. They dragged the bottom of the creek and they haven’t found Fox’s body. The currents may have carried him out. Or maybe they didn’t search the right spots. From the dock where he entered the boat to the point where we found the empty vessel was three-quarters of a mile.”
“They may never find the body?” She crossed her arms and glared at him, as if somehow this was his fault.
“That’s unlikely. But it might take a while. I’m sorry.”
Heather bowed her head and ran a shaky hand across her hair, pushing back her bonnet. She took a moment to adjust her bonnet, then met his gaze. “What do I do now?” Her voice grew high-pitched. She waved her hand frantically up and down her Amish dress. The bonnet she had just adjusted. “Am I supposed to stay here? Hide forever?”
She spun around, paced a few steps, then turned back to him, shooting daggers at him with her steely gaze. She ripped off her bonnet and tossed it aside. It landed on the edge of a pot of mums in full bloom, dangled for a few seconds, then dropped to the floor of the greenhouse and settled into a puddle. He bent to pick it up, when she instructed him to leave it alone. With jerky movements, she yanked at the pins holding her hair in a neat bun at the base of her head. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft curls.
Combing her fingers frantically through her hair, she said, “I’m not going to spend another minute hiding.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I wasted ten years already. Not to mention the years I had already wasted with Brian.” She winced. “You said you shot him, right?” Her eyebrows rose as she waited for confirmation.
“Yes, I did.”
“Then he’s dead. I’m going to go back to living my life. Back to the bed-and-breakfast.”
Doubt whispered across Zach’s brain. His mind flashed back to the creek. To his erratic pulse pounding in his ears. Lifting his gun, aiming it at his target. He was a good shot. He had to have hit Fox.
Heather’s life depended on it.
“Give it a few more days,” Zach urged her. “They’ve extended the search north up the creek, cutting through the hills. If he lived long enough to get out near where the boat was found, he wouldn’t have lived long. They’ll find his body in the woods.”
Her fingers edged with soil curled into a fist. “Then when his body doesn’t turn up in the woods, you’ll tell me to wait until they check north of there or west of here.” Her face flushed red. “I have to believe he’s dead. I’m done hiding.”
Apparently sensing his apprehension, she stepped forward, looking like a woman straddling two worlds with her gorgeous long curls flowing down over her drab gray dress that only revealed the laces of her well-worn boots. She reached out and took his hat from his hands. A smile glinted in her eyes. “Now you don’t have to pretend you’re the Amish marshal.”
Zach couldn’t help but smile. “I thought I looked good in this hat.”
She patted his chest. “You couldn’t even commit to the entire ruse.” She dropped her hand and adjusted the collar on his black golf shirt. “Now, I was committed.”
He tipped his head and tried to read her. “It’s not a good idea to go back to the bed-and-breakfast, you know.”
“He’s dead. I want to go back to my grandmother’s house on Lapp Road and get the bed-and-breakfast ready for our first guests.” Heather bit her lower lip and her eyes grew glazed for a moment, as if she were trying to figure something out. “I’ve lost five days. I’m expecting guests in just over one week. It’s time I go back.”
Zach ran a hand over his mouth. “I can’t—”
“You can’t what?” Anger sparked in her eyes. “I let a man dictate what I wore, when I slept, what I ate! I am not going to let you tell me what to do.”
Zach held up his hands in surrender. “Can I at least accompany you to the bed-and-breakfast? Stay a few more days. Until the body turns up.”
“Your boss will let you stay longer?”
“He knows how important this case is to me.” Besides, his boss owed him one for pulling him away from his vacation that he had planned to spend in his cabin surrounded by nothing but some dusty old books, a black-and-white TV and his feelings of guilt and self-recrimination.
Heather snagged the bonnet from the puddle on the floor and balled it up in her hand. “You’re welcome to come to the bed-and-breakfast with me, but you know I’m going to put you to work.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
* * *
A sense of pride filled Heather when Zach drove up to her grandmother’s house. Her house now. They had used the unmarked vehicle the sheriff’s department had left for their use until his truck was repaired. Ruthie had come along, insisting she needed to stay at the house to help with the preparations. Heather was happy for the company.
Looking at the house now was like seeing it for the first time. The workers had finished putting a fresh coat of gray paint on the shingled siding and the white trim gleamed anew.
For the briefest of moments she forget about all her troubles.
“Sloppy Sam did a great job,” Ruthie said with a hint of pride she tried to suppress. The Amish were a humble people.
“Is there someplace I could park? In the barn maybe?” Zach asked.
Heather shot him a sideways look, knowing it was unreasonable to think these precautions weren’t still necessary. “Sure. The barn’s fine.” She herself had decided to park her little car behind the barn because she still hadn’t mustered the courage to go inside the barn. Maybe she never would.
As the truck bobbled over the ruts in the dirt driveway, she gasped in excitement when she saw the completed back of the house. “The window has been installed. Here—” she patted the dashboard “—let me out.” She tugged on the door handle and climbed out of the truck, unable to take her eyes off the completed addition. The siding. The painting. The window. All complete.
Excitement bubbled up inside Heather as Ruthie jumped out and followed her. Heather dug into the bag she had strapped across her body and pulled out the house key. She ran up the back steps and unlocked the door. She pushed it open and the smell of new wood mingled with that of fresh paint. The kitchen was untouched, per Heather’s request, except for the updated appliances. She wanted to feel her grandmother’s presence. The workers had even seamlessly extended the wood floor from the kitchen into the new eating area.
“This is better than I imagined,” Heather said. Sloppy Sam had built a long picnic table that could seat plenty of guests.
“Sloppy Sam is a craftsman,” Ruthie said.
As Heather’s gaze moved to the freshly painted wall to the right of the window, she found herself drawn forward. She ran her hand over the flat surface where the man who had tormented her for years had stood. Where he had scratched his creepy message. But thankfully, the workers had seen to it that no trace was left.
“Things will get better from here, I just know it,” Ruthie said, smiling.
Heather smiled in return. Maybe, just maybe, she could finally allow herself to have hope again for the future.
She heard Zach at the back door. She squared her shoulders and met him in the kitchen. He had their bags slung over his shoulder.
Ruthie approached him and took her bag. “Heather, would you mind if I went upstairs to unpack?”
“Of course not. Go on.” Heather had converted the smallest room upstairs—one too small for paying guests—to a cozy room for Ruthie, who initially intended to stay over only on weekend nights when the bed-and-breakfast had guests. The rest of the week, Ruthie would live at home and help with the greenhouse. And Heather had no plans to host guests during the week.
Zach placed the other bags on the floor in the new addition. “Place looks great.”
“It does.” She bit her lower lip, trying to contain her excitement. The silence stretched on for a beat too long. Heather took a step backward. “Let me show you where you can stay. There’s a small space downstairs on the other side of the kitchen. It only has a cot, but...” She hadn’t really thought this through.
“It’ll be fine. Really.” A smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “I’ll put my bag away and be right back. You can give me a list of things you need done.” He held out his hand. “But from the looks of it, this place is ready for visitors.”
His smile was contagious. “I can always come up with a list.”
“I didn’t doubt that.”
Heather strolled into the kitchen and braced her arms on the oversize kitchen sink. How often had her mammy stood in this very same spot, mourning the death of her daughter and the loss of her grandchildren? Heather wanted desperately to change the course of the future. To find answers. To find happiness. And not to allow the ghost of Brian Fox to take that away from her.
“Okay, what’s up first?”
She spun around and found Zach standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.
“Let me change, and then let’s order a pizza for the three of us.”
“Will they actually deliver way out here?”
Heather twisted her lips. “Oh, good point.” She crossed the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, one of the few Englisch concessions to make running an “authentic” Amish bed-and-breakfast easier on her. Sure, she could have run a generator to all her kitchen appliances, but instead she had the contractor run electricity from the grid, definitely an Amish no-no, but her guests probably wouldn’t think much of it. “I hadn’t gone shopping yet, either. The few things Ruthie brought in the other day have rotted.” For some reason, embarrassment heated her cheeks. Even after all these years, her response was instinctual. Brian would have yelled at her, called her an idiot, demanded his dinner. Now!
As her emotions welled and crested on a wave of panic, she reminded herself that the man standing a few feet away was not Brian. She swallowed back her emotions, closed the fridge door and turned to smile at him. “Any suggestions?”
“Absolutely. Let’s go grocery shopping. I make a mean lasagna.”
Zach laughed, apparently tickled by the surprise that must have registered in her eyes. “Don’t you believe me?”
She held up her palms. “I have no reason not to. You’ve yet to disappoint me.”
“I have no plans to.”
Their eyes locked and lingered for a moment longer than was comfortable. Heather hadn’t allowed herself to trust her feelings to another man after the havoc Brian wreaked on her life.
“Well—” Her voice cracked. “Give me ten minutes.” She bent over and unlaced her muddy Amish boots and tossed them in the corner near the back door. Maybe she’d leave them there as part of the Amish decor. As she ran up the stairs of her new home, a sense of hope—real hope—for the future coursed through her.
* * *
Zach and Heather dropped Ruthie off to visit a friend while they went grocery shopping. It seemed Ruthie was excited to have a little freedom of her own. Her friend promised to hitch up her horse and bring Ruthie home sometime after dinner.
At the grocery store, Heather strolled ahead of Zach. She had a lightness he’d never seen in her before. Up to this point, all of their contact—from the first time he met her at Jill’s trial—had always been during stressful times. Now he sensed she was finally allowing herself to believe she was safe. He just hoped she was.
Next to the stand of bananas near the entryway, she spun around. “I’m not much of a cook, but I’m not sure this little store carries everything you’ll need.”
Zach leaned over and grabbed a shopping basket. “I’m sure we’ll find everything we need.”
They strolled companionably through the grocery store, picking up lettuce, tomatoes, noodles, sauce, cheese. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he had all the ingredients for dinner in the basket.
Once they had purchased the groceries and arrived back home, he unloaded them onto the counter.
“Tell me what I can do,” Heather said. “I may not know how to cook, but I can follow directions.”
“Is that why you hired Ruthie? To cook?”
“In part. But mostly, I knew I couldn’t run the bed-and-breakfast all on my own.” The look in her eyes suggested something more.
Heather looked away and rubbed the back of her neck. “Ruthie is going to stay here when I have guests. We’ve fixed up a cute little room for her upstairs. I’ll pay her extra. I offered her room and board full-time, but I see now why she turned me down. Maryann and Emma still need her help at home.”
“Yet the family needs the extra income.”
Heather nodded her agreement.
Zach stopped breaking up the ground beef simmering in the pan on the stove and pointed toward the back door. “I’m going to make arrangements to have an alarm system installed.”
Heather scratched her earlobe. “I can’t afford that. I’ve spent everything I have on the remodel.”
He watched her nervously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while she pretended to be busy lining up the jar of sauce, ricotta cheese, and salt and pepper that he’d be needing shortly for the lasagna. His heart ached for her and he found himself drawn to her remarkable spirit.
“I’d like to install the alarm for you. A gift.” He chopped up the ground beef with the edge of the spatula.
“Do you think I really need it?” Her soft tone sounded from just behind him.
He didn’t turn around to answer. “I work in law enforcement. I’ve seen a lot of bad things in my career. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere.” He turned around, holding the spatula. A plop of ground beef hit the floor. They both squatted at the same time and bumped knees.
Heather laughed nervously and stood back up. “Here, let me get that.” She tore a piece of paper towel from the roll, and from his crouched position he reached for the towel and she handed it to him. He wiped up the mess, straightened and tossed it in the garbage can.
Heather had gone pale as if a realization had washed over her. “You don’t think Brian’s dead, do you?”
He touched her arm. “I know I shot him. But it doesn’t make any sense that they haven’t found his body. However, even when we do have Fox back in custody or find out he’s dead, it’s not a smart idea for a young woman to live alone in a big house out in the country. You won’t always have the benefit of houseguests.” He pointed to the stairs. “We’ll have a control panel installed in your bedroom.”
She frowned at him as uncertainty flashed in her eyes.
“You’re inviting strangers into your home. You need to take precautions.”
A long-ago memory came to mind. His sister, Jill, had called him, panicked, frightened. She was afraid of her husband. By the time Jill met him at the door of her meticulously maintained home in the safe suburbs of Buffalo, she had changed her mind. Told her big brother that it was all a misunderstanding. Brian stood next to his baby sister, a smile on his face, his arm draped over her shoulders.
His possession.
Zach’s gut roiled at the memory.
Nothing he’d said had convinced his sister to open up to him. To tell him what was really going on. To leave Fox. That day, Jill stood in the doorway with a fake smile on her face.
If only he had...
He shook his head, trying to dispel the horrible memory.
Heather slipped in beside him and stirred the beef that was spattering on the stove.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He covered her soft hand with his, taking the spatula from her. “Some cook I turned out to be.”
Standing close, she smiled up at him. “If you think it’s important that I get an alarm system, we’ll do it. But I insist on paying you back.” She searched his face.
“I do think it’s important.”
Heather gave him a quick nod. “I don’t want you to stay here out of some misplaced sense of obligation.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not responsible for your sister’s death.”
Zach stopped stirring the beef on the stove. How had she read his mind?
“Brian is—was—a very convincing man,” Heather said, her voice low. “He was charming. He persuaded me to stay more than once. Your sister was a beautiful, smart woman—” her words made the back of his throat ache “—and she was no more at fault for what happened to her than you were. Trust me, I’ve had my own share of guilt about your sister. What could I have done to prevent it? But I remind myself constantly that Brian is the only responsible party.” She reached out and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb across his jaw. He stood frozen, not wanting to feel too much. “You don’t need to stay. I’ll be okay.” A soft hitch caught in her throat, as if she wasn’t sure she believed her own words.
Zach took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. “Do you want me to leave?”
She lowered her gaze, then lifted it again to meet his. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”
The tension eased out of his shoulders.
She reclaimed her hand and fisted it to her chest. “Not until we have proof Brian’s dead.”