Hide in Plain Sight - Marta Perry


Hide in Plain Sight

Marta Perry


MILLS & BOON

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This story is dedicated to my gifted editor,

Krista Stroever. And, as always, to Brian.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ONE

She had to get to the hospital. Andrea Hamptons fingers tightened on the steering wheel as that call from the Pennsylvania State Police replayed in her mind in an endless loop. Her sister had been struck by a hit-and-run driver while walking along a dark country roadlike this one. They didnt know how badly she was injured. Repeated calls to the hospital had netted her only a bland voice saying that Rachel Hampton was undergoing treatment.

Please. Please. She wasnt even sure she believed any longer, but the prayer seemed to come automatically. Please, if Youre there, if Youre listening, keep Rachel safe.

Darkness pressed against the windows, unrelieved except for the reflection of her headlights on the dark macadam and the blur of white pasture fence posts. Amish country, and, once you were off the main routes, there were no lights at night except for the occasional faded yellow of oil lamps from a distant farmhouse.

If she let herself picture Rachels slight figure, turning, seeing a car barreling toward herA cold hand closed around her heart.

After all those years she had protected her two younger sisters, Rachel and Caroline were independent now. That was only right. Still, some irrational part of her mind seemed to be saying: You should have been here.

A black-and-yellow sign announced a crossroads, and she tapped the brakes lightly as she approached a curve. She glanced at the dashboard clock. Nearly midnight.

She looked up, and a cry tore from her throat. A dark shape ahead of her on the road, an orange reflective triangle gleaming on the back of itHer mind recognizing an Amish buggy, she slammed on the brakes, wrenching the wheel with all her strength. Please, please, dont let me hit it

The car skidded, fishtailing, and she fought for control. Too latethe rear wheels left the road and plunged down into a ditch, tipping crazily, headlight beams spearing toward the heavens. The air bag deployed, slamming into her. For an instant she couldnt breathe, couldnt think.

As her head began to clear she fought the muffling fabric of the air bag, the seat belt harness digging into her flesh. Panic seared along her nerves, and she struggled to contain it. She wasnt a child, she wasnt trapped

A door slammed. Voices, running feet, and someone yanked at the passenger door.

Are you hurt? Can you talk?

Yes. She managed to get her face free of the entangling folds. I think Im all right, but I cant reach the seat belt.

Hold on. Well get you out. A murmured consultationmore than one person, then. The scrape of metal on metal, and the door shrieked in protest as it was lifted.

The buggy. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. I didnt hit it, did I?

No, came a curt male voice, and then a flashlights beam struck her face, making her blink. You didnt.

Hands fumbled for the seat belt, tugging. The belt tightened across her chest, she couldnt breatheand then it released and air flowed into her protesting lungs.

Take a moment before we try to move you. He was just a dark shadow behind the light. In control. Be sure nothings broken.

She wanted to shout at him to pull her free, to get her out of the trap her car had become, but he made sense. She wiggled fingers, toes, ran her hands along her body as much as she could.

Just tender. Please, get me out. She would not let panic show in her voice, even though the sense of confinement in a small, dark space scraped her nerves raw with the claustrophobia she always hoped shed overcome. Please.

Hands gripped her arms, and she clung instinctively to the soft cotton of the mans shirt. Muscles bunched under the fabric. He pulled, she wiggled, pushing her body upward, and in a moment she was free, leaning against the tip-tilted car.

Easy. Strong hands supported her.

Are you sure she is all right, Calvin Burke? This voice sounded young, a little frightened. Should we take her to the hospital?

The hospital. She grasped the words. Im all right, but I have to get to the hospital. My sister is there. I have to go there.

She was repeating herself, she thought, her mind still a little fuzzy. She couldnt seem to help it. She focused on the three people who stood around her. An Amish couple, their young faces white and strained in the glow of the flashlight.

And the man, the one with the gruff, impatient voice and the strong, gentle hands. He held the light, so she couldnt see him welljust an impression of height, breadth, the pale cloth of his shirt.

Your sister. His voice had sharpened. Would you be Rachel Hamptons sister?

Yes. She grabbed his hand. You know her? Do you know how she is? I keep calling, but they wont tell me anything.

I know her. Was on my way, in fact, to see if your grandmother needed any help.

Grams is all right, isnt she? Her fear edged up a notch.

Just upset over Rachel. He turned toward the young couple. Ill take her to the hospital. You two better get along home.

Ja, we will, the boy said. We pray that your sister will be well. They both nodded and then moved quickly toward the waiting buggy, their clothing melting into the darkness.

Her Good Samaritan gestured toward the pickup truck that sat behind her car. Anything you dont want to leave here, we can take now.

She shoved her hand through the disheveled layers of her hair, trying to think. Overnight bag. My briefcase and computer. Theyre in the trunk. Concern jagged through her. If the computer is damaged The project she was working on was backed up, of course, but it would still be a hassle if she couldnt work while she was here.

I dont hear any ominous clanking noises. He pulled the cases from the trunk, whose lid gaped open. Lets get going.

She bent over the car to retrieve her handbag and cell phone, a wave of dizziness hitting her at the movement. Gritting her teeth, she followed him to the truck.

He yanked open the passenger side door and shoved the bags onto the floor. Obviously she was meant to rest her feet on them. There was no place else to put them if she didnt want them rattling around in the back.

She climbed gingerly into the passenger seat. The dome light gave her a brief look at her rescuer as he slid behind the wheel. Thirtyish, shed guess, with a shock of sun-streaked brown hair, longer than was fashionable, and a lean face. His shoulders were broad under the faded plaid shirt he wore, and when he gave her an impatient glance, she had the sense that he carried a chip on them.

He slammed the door, the dome light going out, and once again he was little more than an angular shape.

I take it you know my grandmother. Small surprise, that. Katherine Ungers roots went deep in Lancaster County, back to the German immigrants whod swarmed to Penns Woods in the 1700s.

He nodded, and then seemed to feel something more was called for. Cal Burke. And youre Rachels older sister, Andrea. Ive heard about you. His clipped tone suggested he hadnt been particularly impressed by whatever that was.

Still, she couldnt imagine that her sister had said anything bad about her. She and Rachel had always been close, even if they hadnt seen each other often enough in the past few years, especially since their mothers death. Even if she completely disapproved of this latest scheme Rachel and Grams had hatched.

She glanced at him. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she was able to see a little more, noticing his worn jeans, scuffed leather boots and a stubble of beard. Shed thought, in that first hazy glimpse as he pulled her out of the car, that he might be Amishsomething about the hair, the pale shirt and dark pants. But obviously he wasnt.

I should try the hospital again. She flipped the cell phone open.

Please. The unaccustomed prayer formed in her mind again. Please let Rachel be all right.

I doubt theyll tell you any more than they already have. He frowned at the road ahead. Have you tried your grandmothers number?

She never remembers to turn her cell phone on. She punched in the number anyway, only to be sent straight to voice mail. Grams, if you get this before I see you, call me on my cell. Her throat tightened. I hope Rachel is all right.

Ironic, he said as she clicked off. You have an accident while rushing to your sisters bedside. Ever occur to you that these roads arent meant for racing?

She stiffened at the criticism. I was not racing. And if you were behind me, you must have seen me brake as I approached the curve. If I hadnt She stopped, not wanting to imagine that.

His hands moved restlessly on the wheel, as if he wanted to push the rattletrap truck along faster but knew he couldnt. Were coming up on Route 30. Well make better time there.

He didnt sound conciliatory, but at least he hadnt pushed his criticism of her driving. Somehow she still wanted to defend herself.

Im well aware that I have to watch for buggies on this road. I just didnt expect to see anyone out this late.

And she was distracted with fear for Rachel, but she wouldnt say that to him. It would sound like a plea for sympathy.

Its spring, he said, as if that was an explanation. Rumspringa, to those kids. That means

I know what rumspringa means, she snapped. The time when Amish teenagers get to experience freedom and figure out what kind of life they want. You dont need to give me the Pennsylvania Dutch tour. I lived in my grandparents house until I was ten.

Well, I guess that makes you an expert, then.

No doubt about it, the man was annoying, but she hadnt exactly been all sweetness and light in the past half hour, either. And he was taking her to the hospital.

Sorry. I didnt mean to snap. I guess Im a little shaken.

He glanced at her. Maybe you should have them check you out at the hospital. You had a rough landing.

She shook her head. Ill probably be black-and-blue tomorrow, but thats it. She touched her neck gingerly. Either the air bag or the seat belt had left what felt like brush burns there. The bruises on her confidence from the fear shed felt wouldnt show, but they might take longer to go away.

Apparently taking her word for it, he merged onto Route 30. The lights and activity were reassuring, and in a few minutes they pulled up at the emergency entrance to the hospital.

Thank you. She slid out, reaching for her things. I really appreciate this.

He spoke when she would have pulled her bag out. Im going in, too. May as well leave your things here until you know what youre doing.

She hesitated, and then she shrugged and let go of the case. Fine. Thank you, she added.

He came around the truck and set off toward the entrance, his long strides making her hurry to keep up. Inside, the bright lights had her blinking. Burke caught her arm and navigated her past the check-in desk and on into the emergency room, not stopping until he reached the nurses station.

Evening, Ruth. This is Rachel Hamptons sister. Tell her how Rachel is without the hospital jargon, all right?

She half expected the womanmiddle-aged, gray-haired and looking as if her feet hurtto call security. Instead she gave him a slightly flirtatious smile.

Calvin Burke, just because youve been in here three or four times to get stitched up, dont think you own the place. She consulted a clipboard, lips pursing.

Andrea stole a look at him. It wasnt her taste, but she supposed some women went for the rugged, disreputable-looking type.

Ruth Schmidt, according to her name badgeanother good old Pennsylvania Dutch name, like Ungerpicked up the telephone and had a cryptic, low-voiced conversation with someone. She hung up and gave Andrea a professional smile.

Your sister has come through surgery fine, and shes been taken to a private room.

What were her injuries? She hated digging for information, as if her sisters condition were a matter of national security. Where is my grandmother? Isnt she here?

The woman stiffened. I really dont know anything further about the patients condition. I understand Mrs. Unger was persuaded to go home, as there was nothing she could do here. Id suggest you do the same, and

No. She cut the woman off. Im not going anywhere until Ive seen my sister. And if you dont know anything about her injuries, Ill talk to someone who does.

She prepared for an argument. It didnt matter what they said to her, she wasnt leaving until shed seen Rachel, if she had to stay here all night.

Maybe the woman recognized that. She pointed to a bank of elevators. Third floor. Room 301. But shell be asleep

She didnt wait to hear any more. She made it to the elevator in seconds and pressed the button, the fear that had driven her since she left Philadelphia a sharp blade against her heart. Rachel would be all right. Grams wouldnt have gone home unless she was convinced of that. Still, she had to see for herself.

A quick ride in the elevator, a short walk across the hall, and she was in the room. Rachel lay motionless in the high, white hospital bed. Both legs were in casts, and hospital paraphernalia surrounded her.

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