Danger in Plain Sight Read Free

help break the news. They should be at the hospital by the time we are.”
The strip of black macadam went over another rise and he spotted the flares and reflective tape. Good. He didn’t want anything messed with before the crime scene team got here. He pulled to a stop and turned on his flashers.
Joe Carmody was at his door the moment he opened it, a little green around the gills over being first on the scene.
“Everything’s cordoned off, just like you wanted it, Chief. I had the volunteer firefighters bring along their battery lamps so we could see better.”
“Good thinking, Carmody.” He hadn’t expected that display of initiative from the kid.
The lights flashed on as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and the scene sprang to life—tangled wreckage of a gray buggy, its battery lantern still flickering, one twisted wheel sunk at an angle in the ditch a few yards down the road, the horse lying dead in a tangle of lines.
“The horse was still alive when I got here.” The kid’s voice shook despite his best efforts to steady it. “Pretty bad. I had to—” He stopped, leaving the rest unsaid.
Adam gave a short nod. “You did the right thing. Nothing else has been touched?”
“Just what the paramedics had to do to get in,” Carmody said quickly, obviously glad to get away from the subject of the horse. “I put the tape up right away after I made the calls. Hasn’t been any other traffic along the road, though.”
“Nobody else through at all?” That would be a break for the crime scene guys. Maybe they’d actually pick up something to identify the vehicle.
Carmody jerked his head toward the nearest lane, where a pony cart was pulled up, an Amishman leaning against it, staring morosely at the scene. “Just Paul Miller. He’s the one made the call. Seems like his teenage boy has a cell phone.”
Amish didn’t have phones in the homes, generally, but cell phones were becoming more and more common with the teens, and the parents usually turned a blind eye to that until the kids were old enough to join the church. A good thing, in this case.
“Did Miller see anything?”
Carmody shook his head. “Vehicle was long gone by the time he got out here. His wife sent out a thermos of coffee, if you want any.”
“Not now.” He walked along the edge of the tape, looking, not touching, just assessing. Esther had been headed toward Springville, and she’d been hit from behind. Those battery lights on the buggy—they could be plainly seen by anyone coming up from the other direction. Why didn’t the driver stop, or at least swerve? Looked like he’d hit square on.
Anger burned along Adam’s veins. “No excuse for this.”
“Drunk maybe. Or high.” Carmody seemed to know what he meant. He gestured down the road, the way the vehicle must have come. “There’s no curves or hills for a good hundred yards. He had to have seen the lights.”
A sound behind him like a choked-off cry, and Adam swung around. Libby stood there, staring at the horse, lips clamped together.
He grabbed her arm and turned her away. “Stay in the car, Libby. Please,” he added, softening his tone. “We need to keep the area clean for the crime scene people.”
“Crime?” She repeated the word, eyes searching his face.
“Hit-and-run is a crime,” he said. And if Esther didn’t make it, that would be vehicular homicide at the very least. Still, they had to find the driver first. “Libby…”
She took a step, wobbling a little on the macadam in those ridiculously high heels she wore. He held her arm securely. There was nothing much he could do here at the moment. He needed to get to the hospital, to see if Esther had said anything.
“Extend that tape along the road on either side for another fifty feet or so.” He spoke over his shoulder to Carmody. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he swerved off onto the verge after the collision. I’m going to the hospital. I’ll be back.”
“Yessir.” Carmody looked as if he’d