Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

She watched the young people milling around below her. This was obviously the Amish equivalent of date night…a time for young people to pair off, to move toward a relationship that, for them, would end in marriage and family and a continuation of their culture.

Simplistic, she supposed. Old-fashioned. But for a moment she was aware of the appeal. It seemed both simpler and surer than the courtship rituals of her urban society.

The sound of a footstep had her turning toward the ladder again. Surely Trey hadn’t gotten up without her noticing. No, that was his tall figure still in the crowd, seemingly deep in conversation with Jonas Miller.

She leaned forward a bit, watching him from her secluded spot. He’d draw any woman’s eye. So why was he still unmarried, still living at home with his mother? He certainly wasn’t a mama’s boy, by anyone’s definition.

Another sound, as if something rustled in the loose hay that had filtered from the bales. An animal? She looked around, apprehension rising, but there was nothing to be seen.

Disturbed now from the fascination that had held her in place, she put her hand out to the nearest beam and started to rise. She’d go help Trey with that cider.

There was a sense of movement behind her. She turned, hand out for balance, and her breath caught in her throat. The stack of hay bales tumbled toward her.

No time to cry out, no time to grab anything. A blow to her shoulder threw her toward the edge. She flailed with her hand, catching hold of the upright beam, but her grip was sliding…

For an instant she hung over the edge, aware of cries below her, rushing feet. Then her grip failed, and she plummeted, helpless, toward the floor below.

TREY RUSHED FORWARD, impeded by all the others who hurried to help. None of them could reach Jessica before she hit the floor. Heart pounding, he dropped to his knees beside the crumpled figure.

“Jess…”

Jonas caught his hand when he would have reached for her. “Careful.”

He tried to wrench away, but Jonas’s grip turned to iron.

“Your cell phone, Trey. We must call the rescue squad.”

He was right, of course. Trey’s mind seemed to have stopped working. He pulled the phone from his pocket, flipped it open, handed it to Jonas.

Sarah, Jonas’s wife, bent over Jessica. Her hands moved, gentle and competent, over the limp form, and she talked softly all the while, as if Jessica would be comforted by her voice.

Trey sucked in a breath. She was unconscious. That had to be bad. He clasped one hand in his, trying to warm it. “Jess, it’s going to be all right.”

“Ja, it will.” Jonas put a big hand on his shoulder. “Let my Sarah tend to her. She’s seen more bumps and bruises and broken bones than most with our kids. She knows what to do better than us, ain’t so?”

He managed a nod. Sarah was undoubtedly more skilled than he was. Even now one of the girls came running with a blanket, which she tucked around Jessica.

Jonas gave a quick order, and several boys rushed out, grabbing lanterns as they went. “They will run down to the road, show the rescue squad where to turn. We’d best make sure there’s plenty of space for them to bring the ambulance right into the barn.”

“Ja.” Peggy Byler took care of the kids, directing some to move the tables back, others to move any buggies that might block the way.

Even as the kids scattered, Trey heard the wail of a siren in the distance growing steadily louder. He willed it to move faster, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. Jessica would be all right. She had to be.

Half an hour later he waited impatiently in the emergency room waiting area. He paced across the room and stopped at the window. With the darkness outside and the bright lights within, it formed a mirror, reflecting the empty chairs along the wall and the reception desk, beyond which were the double doors into the treatment area. Jessica was back there, somewhere.

His jaw tensed. That moment when he’d seen her fall-he didn’t think he would ever get that image out of his head.

He forced his fists to unclench. The paramedics had been reassuring. Jessica herself, coming to just about the time they arrived, had insisted she was fine.

He hadn’t believed her. Her white face, the pain that darkened her eyes…no, he hadn’t believed she was all right. If he hadn’t stopped to talk to Jonas-

The outer doors swished open. Leo, his hair ruffled and his tie askew, rushed in, coming to grasp his sleeve.

“Trey. Your mother called with some garbled story about Jessica being hurt.”

Trey shook his head. “Not so garbled. But how did my mother find out about it? I didn’t want her to worry.”

“You should know by now that Geneva learns everything, sooner or later.”

“Usually sooner.” Trey rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re treating Jessica now. The paramedics didn’t seem to think it was too serious, but she hit her head when she fell, lost consciousness for several minutes.”

Some of the anxiety faded from Leo’s eyes. “She’ll be all right?”

“I think so.” He prayed so. “My mother-”

“Is on her way right now,” Leo finished for him. “I couldn’t dissuade her, but at least I got her to agree to have Bobby drive her. She sounded so upset I didn’t think she should be behind the wheel.”

“Thanks.” His hand rested for a moment on the older man’s shoulder. “That was good of you.”

Leo shrugged the words off. “What exactly happened? You were at Miller’s tonight, weren’t you?”

“We were sitting in the loft, watching the singing.” It seemed days ago now. “I went down to get something to drink, and she…fell.”

Fell. He wasn’t sure he wanted to speak the suspicion that filled his mind.

Running footsteps, and the door whished again. His mother rushed across the room to envelop him in a warm embrace. “Is Jessica all right? What do the doctors say?”

He hugged her back. “Mom, there was no need for you to come. I can take care of everything.”

Bobby approached. “How is Jessica? Did someone… How did she get hurt?”

He’d almost said what Trey had been thinking. Did someone? “She fell from the barn loft. She was conscious when the paramedics got there, so I don’t think it’s too serious.”

“That’s a relief. I’d hate to think of anything happening to her. I’ll stay and take Geneva home-”

“That’s okay.” They didn’t need any more people hanging around. “Thanks, Bobby, for bringing her. I’ll see that my mother gets home. Even though she shouldn’t be here.”

Bobby nodded, fading out the door as his mother turned a stern look on him.

“Nonsense.” Her brisk tone belied the worry that drew her brows together. “If a woman is hurt, she wants another woman around. Now, where is she?”

“Back in the treatment area. But you can’t…”

She was already marching toward the reception desk. Whatever she said, it must have worked, because a moment later they were being ushered back through the double doors.

Leo put a hand on his arm to slow his pace. “What really happened?”

“I’m not sure.” Trey shook his head in frustration. “A stack of hay bales fell, knocking her off the edge of the loft.”

Leo considered. “It could happen.”

“It could, I guess. But I don’t think I’d ever see the day that Jonas Miller would stack bales so clumsily that they’d topple over.”

Leo’s frown deepened, the corners of his lips compressing. “Who would do that? You didn’t see anyone?”

“No. So unless-”

Ahead of them, his mother disappeared into a curtained cubicle. He hurried his steps, letting the rest of that thought slip away.