Hide in Plain Sight by Marta Perry Page A

sneakers she wore making little sound on the wide planks of the barn floor. In jeans and a loose denim shirt worn over a white tee, she almost looked as if she belonged here.
    “It was quiet enough,” she said. “I didn’t sleep much, though. I woke at every creak, and believe me, a house that old creaks a lot.”
    “How about some coffee?” He gestured toward the pot that sat on a rough shelf against the wall. “It won’t be as good as Emma’s, but at least it’s hot.”
    “None for me, thanks. Grams insisted on giving me three cups of herbal tea this morning, because I looked tired. I don’t have room for coffee.”
    “She didn’t ask any difficult questions, I hope.” If she’d told her grandmother about what had happened…
    Andrea shook her head. “No. And I didn’t mention anything about last night.” She ran her hand along the top of the dry sink, much as he had done, a wing of silky hair falling across her cheek as she looked down. “But I can’t just ignore what happened.”
    “I know.” He frowned, wondering if it were wise, or even possible, to keep her from voicing her suspicions. “Do you want to go to the police?”
    “Depends upon what moment you ask me.” Her smile flickered. “I spent my wakeful night going over and over it and changing my mind every thirty seconds or so.”
    He bent, picked up a couple of sanding blocks, and tossed one to her.
    She caught it automatically. “What’s this for?”
    “Try it.” He knelt, running his block along the side of the piece. “It’s very soothing.”
    “Just what I need—to be soothed while intruders trample through Grams’s yard and try to break in.” But she sat down on the floor in front of the dry sink and began sanding lightly.
    “Trample?” He raised an eyebrow.
    “You know what I mean.” She sanded for a moment longer, frowning. “He was there. He was watching the house.”
    “I know.” He silenced the urge to tell her what he thought she should do. It was her decision, not his.
    “You’re right. This is soothing. How did you learn to do this? The furniture, I mean, not just sanding.”
    “My dad’s father.” His voice softened, as it always did at the thought of his grandfather. Whatever he knew about being a good man, as well as a good carpenter, came from him. “He figured everyone should know how to do something useful, just in case.”
    “He sounds like a wise man.”
    She glanced up at him, smiling. For an instant their faces were close—so close he could see the flecks of gold in those green eyes, mirroring the gold of her hair. So close he could feel the movement of her breath across his cheek.
    Her eyes widened, and he heard the catch of her breath. He put the sanding block down with a hand that wasn’t entirely steady and sat back, away from her. That was—well, unexpected. Not surprising that he found her attractive, but shocking in the strength of that pull toward her. And disturbing that she felt it, too.
    Andrea looked down at the sandpaper in her hand. She cleared her throat. “Well, I have to make a decision about calling the police.”
    So they were going to ignore what had just happened. Maybe that was best.
    “If you tell the police the person you saw was Amish—”
    “I know. It will cause problems, problems for the community, problems for Grams. I don’t want that. But I have to do something. I can’t help wondering…” She looked at him again, eyes guarded. “What if it was Levi?”
    “Levi.” He had to adjust his perspective. “That didn’t occur to me. Do you have some reason for thinking that?”
    She shook her head. “Only that I’ve seen him around the house. At one time, I’d have said I knew him, but not any longer. Does he ever come over here at night?”
    “I’ve never seen him.” Everything in him wanted to reject the idea. “Look, you know he’s like a child—a gentle child. If it were Levi last night, he certainly didn’t intend any harm. From what