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  “Garrett called Gina too,” Agatha said in a mock whisper.

  Gina put both hands on her hips. “I heard that.”

  “They’re going on a date.”

  “And I heard that too.”

  Tony laughed. “He’s a brave man if he’s willing to date you after your attack on Tamara.”

  “I might have lost my temper—a little.”

  Tony didn’t even attempt to argue with that, proving again that he was a wise man indeed. “Garrett was calling to update me, and he wanted me to update the two of you. All of the treasure has been returned to its rightful owner.”

  “Tamara?”

  “Still proclaiming her innocence, but Cooper flipped.”

  “Flipped?” Agatha continued to occasionally have trouble with Englisch expressions.

  “He came over from the dark side,” Gina explained. “Or he tried to. A little too late if you ask me.”

  “He’s agreed to testify against Tamara. Scooter and Cooter will too. Turns out she was the one who killed Kolbe. They actually tried to stop her, but she was making an example of him. He wanted out—didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “I knew Kolbe was a gut boy.” It hurt Agatha’s heart to think of a young man dying at what should have been the beginning of his adult life.

  “Cooper went down the wrong path, but he’s working on it. He told us that Scooter put the nail in my tire, trying to scare me off the case.”

  “They don’t know you very well.”

  “And of course Tamara was behind the break-in as well as the attempted horse theft.”

  “Do you believe them?” Gina looked skeptical. “How do you known it’s not just the men trying to blame it on the sole woman?”

  “Turns out Cooper recorded the entire event on his phone.”

  “The murder?”

  “Right up to that moment. Tamara wanted the Lane boys to do it. When they wouldn’t she gave them a tongue-lashing, grabbed her weapon from her purse, and forced Kolbe outside. The recording doesn’t show her doing it, but there’s enough there to convict. Plus we have her fingerprints on the weapon, and the ballistics match.”

  “Greed can make people do unfathomable things.” Gina seemed to shake herself out of the melancholy mood that had fallen over them. “If you talk to Garrett again, tell him I like daisies.”

  “Daisies, huh?”

  “And also he shouldn’t be late for their date,” Agatha chimed in.

  “Correct. I can’t abide rudeness or disrespect.” A dreamy expression covered her face. “I have to admit, I was impressed with the way Garrett handcuffed Tamara to the sculpture. He has good moves.”

  Fonzi jumped onto the porch railing, tucked his paws under him, and blinked in the fading sunlight.

  “You’re a gut cat,” Agatha whispered, scratching the feline between the ears. Fonzi’s response was a steady purr.

  “If it weren’t for that feline, we might never have found the business card with the YO stamp. We might have missed the entire thing, and Tamara would be somewhere counting her money instead of dreaming up her defense. I love a story that ends well.” With a sassy smile, Gina turned and walked back into the B&B.

  Tony stepped closer, and Agatha felt her pulse accelerate when he ducked his head and kissed her lips.

  Her face warmed, and Agatha marveled that she didn’t care if Tony saw how his attention affected her. So what if he knew that he caused her to act like a schoolgirl with a crush? She cared about him, and she liked it when he was around. “I’ll admit, I’m glad this construction project is over. I’ve had enough of construction workers and hidden treasures and cold cases turned suddenly deadly.”

  “I’m with you on that.” Tony sat on the porch swing, and Agatha joined him. “I think both of you gals could use a vacation.”

  “I leave tomorrow morning. Gina has promised to take that time off as well. The B&B is officially closed for the next 10 days. After that...” She didn’t finish the thought. It seemed like fall stretched out in front of her like a country road not yet travelled. She was looking forward to it—to meeting guests, giving them a respite from a too-busy world, spending time with Gina, and taking long walks with Tony.

  “After that, we’re full until Christmas.” Gina called from inside the house, then ducked her head back outside. She was now holding a dusting rag and a can of furniture polish. “Seems all this publicity is good for business.”

  “Gut. I spent all of my savings on the renovation. It’s time to make this business profitable.”

  Gina seconded that, then headed back inside muttering, “Time to check what I put in the oven.”

  “I’ve never heard you talk about profits before.” Tony nudged his shoulder against hers. “Being around all these Englischers must be affecting you.”

  “To tell you the truth...I have an idea of what I’d like to do with any profit I make between now and Christmas.”

  “Care to share?”

  So she told him about her dream of building a grossdaddi haus on the southeast side of the property. “It could actually have four suites...”

  “Do you have that many grandfathers?”

  She laughed and reached for his hand. “I was thinking about Debbie Dewald, about how much she has to deal with—the business and taking care of her parents and in-laws.”

  “Go on.” He pulled her hand into his lap, laced his fingers with hers.

  “The main house and cabins could continue to be for couples and families. The new building could be a place for elderly to vacation while their caretakers enjoy a long overdue break. Sort of like when you leave your pup at a pet resort. We’d offer a resort for the elderly.”

  “That’s a great idea, Agatha.”

  “Ya?” She smiled up at him. “If I add the reward money to my fall profits, I might have enough to hire Dewald Construction again.”

  “I figured you’d find a way to give away that money.”

  “And it’s bound to help local businesses—Amish and Englisch.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve thought this out. I’m in.”

  “You are?”

  “Sure. Show me an elderly person who doesn’t like to fish. We can set up a special platform for wheelchairs down near the river. Some of those old-timers, they know more about the Guadalupe than I do.”

  “I knew you’d understand my vision for this place. It’s as if we were meant to be here together, Tony. Side by side, offering a respite to the world. It’s what I want to do more than any other thing. I like it here. I really do.”

  “What I like...no...” His voice grew suddenly husky. He dipped his head, kissed her lips gently. “What I love, is you.”

  “Do you, now?”

  “I do.”

  “I feel the same.” She kissed him back, then almost laughed. Never in a thousand years would she have thought she’d fall in love with a retired detective, with an Englischer. “It’s going to be complicated.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

  Which seemed to sum it up. They sat there as evening fell across the land, Fonzi watching them from the porch railing, enticing smells drifting out from whatever Gina was making in the kitchen, and the sound of the Guadalupe River seeping into the late afternoon.

  Perhaps this time she could put sleuthing behind her.

  It didn’t matter, though. None of that mattered.

  She had good friends, a man who cared about her, family that she would be seeing in less than two days, and a life that brought her joy.

  There was literally nothing else she could wish for.

  So instead, she closed her eyes and thanked Gotte for all that she had.

  The End

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my friend Beth Scott. Thank you for letting me use Fonzi in these stories, and for your constant prayers and encouragement. You are a spot of sunshine in a sometimes-dark world. I’d also like to thank Derrick and Debbie Dewald for allowing me to use your
names in this story.

  As is always the case, I owe a tremendous debt to my pre-readers, Kristy and Tracy. I think you’re both amazing, and I’m so glad that you catch my mistakes. Teresa, you always do a fabulous job editing and formatting. Jenny, I have had so many compliments on these covers. You’re a creative genius! My family deserves a giant thank you for every single book I finish. You’re patient when I cook badly and when I don’t cook at all. You all are the best.

  A heartfelt shout-out to all my readers who are cozy mystery lovers. These are just fun stories to write, and I’m grateful that you enjoy reading them.

  And finally ... always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (Ephesians 5:20).

  Blessings,

  Vannetta

  Author’s Note

  There is no Plain community in Hunt, Texas, though I have no trouble picturing one there. Hunt sits squarely in the middle of the Texas Hill Country, an area growing increasingly popular, especially for folks trying to escape the pace and stress of Dallas, Houston, and San Antonio. It’s a beautiful part of Texas, and as you drive the twisting roads that follow the Guadalupe, you can catch a glimpse of the Texas that used to be.

  I had the pleasure of conducting thorough research in the community of Hunt. Any differences from the real location were done for purposes of furthering my plot. Likewise, though I have visited over a dozen Amish communities, the community you read about in this book is fictional and subject to intentional discrepancies from actual Amish communities in the interest of dramatic license.

  Lastly, to my knowledge imaging technology like I describe in this book does not exist. There is technology to see people through walls (see Xaver products, Camero), but not to analyze what is within the wall itself. There are also advances in satellite imagery for seeing through walls. Most of those technologies depend on heat sensors, which would not work on hidden treasure. Still, it was fun to adapt existing technology to fit my plot.

  Also by Vannetta Chapman

  Agatha’s Amish B&B Series

  Dead Wrong

  Dead Broke

  The Shipshewana Amish Mysteries

  Falling to Pieces

  A Perfect Square

  Material Witness

  The Amish Village Mysteries

  Murder Simply Brewed

  Murder Tightly Knit

  Murder Freshly Baked

  The Amish Bishop Mysteries

  What the Bishop Saw

  When the Bishop Needs an Alibi

  Who the Bishop Knows

  Find these and more at https://vannettachapman.com/books/amish-mystery/.

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  Did you love Dead Set? Then you should read Fading Into the Night by Vannetta Chapman!

  When a cyber terrorist targets the Amish town of Shipshewana, an Amish farmer and a seasoned agent join forces to stop the attack.

  How do you defend yourself against an attack you can't see?

  Nora Brooks has been sent to the small town of Shipshewana to stop a cyber-attack that could kill hundreds. She doesn't realize that she'll need an Amish farmer to do so. Ben Lapp is walking around the corner of his barn when he comes face to face with a woman dressed in black, bleeding from a wound on her right arm, and aiming a gun at him. When he learns why she's there, he wants to do more than stay out of her way. He wants to help her stop this threat to the community and the people that he loves. But the man who is threatening Ben's community has faded into the night, and it's going to take every bit of cunning and instinct these two possess to find and stop him.

  This story first appeared in the Summer of Suspense Anthology. Already read it? Check out the continuing story with Midnight Strike, book 2 in Vannetta Chapman's Cyber Division series.

  Also by Vannetta Chapman

  Agatha's Amish B&B

  Dead Wrong

  Dead Broke

  Dead Set (Coming Soon)

  Defending America

  Coyote's Revenge

  Roswell's Secret

  Jacobs Family Series

  Hidden

  Protected