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  “In the interview room?”

  “No.” Now he smiled. He couldn’t help it. Just the thought of Bannister bringing Agatha in as a murder suspect made him want to laugh. At the time though, he’d felt nothing but white-hot anger. They’d all come a long way since the murder of Russell Dixon. “Not in the interview room. You’re not a suspect. You’re a witness.”

  “But I didn’t see anything, not really. I thought...I thought it was a dream.”

  He pulled her to him, then kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I’ll see you back at your place in a few hours.”

  He watched the cruiser pull away, and part of his mind was still back on that first murder investigation. When Agatha had found Russell Dixon dead outside Cabin 3, she’d run to him for help though they’d barely known one another then. Tony had still been deep in his own personal tragedy, dealing with a razor-sharp grief over the loss of his wife. Or not dealing with it. Basically he’d been holed up in his house feeling sorry for himself.

  Camila wouldn’t have stood for that. She’d never been one to let him wallow in pity. Camila would have told him if there was something he wasn’t satisfied with to get out and change it. And he knew that Camila would want him to protect Agatha, to be a good friend to his neighbor, to care for those that God had placed in his path.

  True, he was Catholic and Agatha was Amish, but they were still two believers, trying to find their way home.

  Chapter Six

  Agatha might have been in a state of shock when she arrived at the police station, but by the time she’d gone through her statement three times, she’d regained her senses. She finally told Officer Kemi Gracen, who was as polite and southern as they came, that she was going home.

  “If you think of any other questions—any different questions, you have my number.” Which seemed like a ridiculous thing for an Amish person to say, but it was true. She did have a phone in her office. She kept the ringer off most of the time so it wouldn’t be a constant interruption, but it was handy for people to leave reservation requests. That and their web page helped to make the B&B a success.

  Actually it was the location and the people that made it a success. Agatha didn’t even know exactly what a web page was. Oh, Gina had shown it to her. They’d even hired a nice teenaged boy to keep the page Updated and Current. Everyone always pronounced those two words as if they should be capitalized and accompanied with fanfare. Agatha wondered if they’d want to put details of John Wayland’s treasure on the web page, or perhaps the new holes in her walls. They could run a banner that read, Please No Additional Destruction.

  “I’m getting loopy,” she confessed to Gina, fighting the urge to giggle as they once again exited the police cruiser.

  “It’s because your adrenaline has settled down.” They were walking up the steps of the porch and the eastern sky was growing lighter. It wasn’t daybreak, not yet, but it was close.

  Fonzi hopped off the porch swing and stretched, then walked over to Agatha and wound between her legs. If there was a more calming animal than a cat, Agatha didn’t know what it was. Maybe a horse. She needed to go out and check on Doc. She hadn’t spent enough time with her buggy horse in the last few days. Joey Troyer looked after him, but she still liked to take the mare a carrot or peppermint. She thought that his tail swished with more vigor when she spoiled him—Doc, not Joey.

  Though come to think of it, Joey Troyer was on vacation and one of the youngies from her church was helping with Doc. She’d need to talk to young Adam Hochstetler and let him know about recent events.

  She walked into the house, ducking under crime scene tape and stepping around piles of debris.

  “This place is a mess,” she declared.

  “Indeed it is.” Gina scowled at the living room as if she could intimidate it into shaping up. “I’ll get the broom.”

  Tony walked out from the kitchen. “Everything go okay at the station?”

  “I suppose. Gina and I were thinking about cleaning this mess up. Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all. The crime scene techs are done. Let me help.”

  “Wait.” Gina stopped in the middle of the room. “The new holes, the ones the burglars made, should be covered by your homeowners’ insurance...maybe. I’m not sure.”

  “If your policy covers vandalism, then it will.” Tony attempted a smile. “Looks like you might be getting a total remodel. I’ll take some pictures, just in case.”

  But Agatha was shaking her head. “You’re both forgetting that I’m Amish. We don’t believe in insurance.”

  That statement stopped Gina and Tony in their tracks.

  Gina cocked her head and stared at the ceiling. “What about the guy who owns the dairy farm down the road?”

  “Stephen Hochstetler.”

  “That’s the one. He has insurance. I saw him in my agent’s office when I stopped by there last month.”

  “Because he bought the place with a loan. The bank requires insurance. Once it’s paid off, he’ll drop the coverage.”

  “Why would he do that?” Tony sank onto the couch that was covered with a tarp. “Explain it to me.”

  “Well, we consider purchasing insurance to be on par with gambling. You know...you’re putting money down, betting that nothing will happen to you but covering your bet. Or something like that. I’ve never actually gambled myself.”

  “What will you do about all this damage?”

  Now Agatha smiled. Tony’s question had reminded her that she wasn’t alone in this. She had the two people waiting in front of her, looking puzzled, and she had her entire church family standing behind her. Even her adult children would send money to help if she needed it, but hopefully she would not. “Have either of you ever seen a barn raising?”

  “On the internet.” Gina glanced at Tony. “I can send you a link.”

  “Same idea applies here. Once the construction crew is done with the work I’ve hired them to do, Bishop Schrock will call up a work crew, and they’ll come over and do the repair work.”

  “And it’s not...well, taking advantage of your church people, to expect them to do this for you?” Tony held up both hands, palms out. “I’m not criticizing, just trying to understand.”

  “It’s not taking advantage, because I’d do the same for them.” Agatha shrugged, as if she didn’t really expect them to understand. “It’s our way.”

  Tony studied her, then smiled. “In some instances, the world would be a better place if we all operated that way.” Then he tapped his phone and added, “But detectives take pictures, so if you don’t mind—”

  Agatha smiled and motioned for him to click away. He walked through each room, snapping photos with his smart phone.

  Then he headed over to the barn to fetch one of the large plastic trash cans. He came back into the house looking puzzled. “Where’s Joey?”

  “Adam Miller is caring for Doc every morning and evening. I gave Joey the month off and believe me, he’s earned it. That boy is the hardest worker I’ve ever met.”

  “Did he head out of town?” As if to justify the question, Tony added, “I’d completely forgotten about him, but if he’s around we should update him on what’s happening.”

  “Joey’s been saving his money. He headed to Colorado a few days ago...says he wants to climb Pike’s Peak and touch the sky.”

  “Not my idea of a restful vacation, but there’s youth for you.” Tony set the trash can in the middle of the room.

  They spent the next hour sweeping up drywall and dumping it into the can. The place looked better when they were done—other than the holes in the walls and the tarps covering everything. Soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of frying bacon, sizzling eggs, and toasted bread. Agatha’s mood lifted as they shared the simple meal. By the time she was on her second cup of coffee she was actually optimistic.

  “I don’t know who did this, but surely they know now that nothing else is hidden here.”

  Tony cleared his throat.
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  “What?” Gina sat back and crossed her arms. “What haven’t you told us, Tony?”

  “Bannister asked for help from the Texas Rangers.”

  “The baseball players?” Agatha couldn’t imagine what good that would do.

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Yes, that is the name of the professional baseball team, but no—the Texas Rangers I’m referring to are a part of the Texas Department of Public Safety.”

  “Thought they handled border security.” Gina drained her coffee cup, then stared at it as if more might appear. “SWAT teams and crisis negotiations and that sort of thing.”

  “They also have a crime scene investigation team, and that team has the equipment necessary to x-ray these walls.”

  “Why would they do that?” Agatha stifled a yawn. It felt as if the caffeine surging through her system was losing the war against the carbs she’d consumed. She needed a nap. “How would they do that?”

  “I don’t understand the technology, but apparently it’s quite precise. As to why...that seems obvious.”

  “More treasure?” Gina scoffed, then stood and fetched the coffee pot.

  Agatha put a hand over the top of her mug. “No thanks.” She wanted the coffee, maybe needed it, but she knew from past experience that another cup would also make her jittery and jumpy as a cat.

  Tony pushed his cup toward Gina and reached for one of the oatmeal cookies. The investigation seemed to have piqued his attention and his appetite. “They think there’s more treasure here, Agatha. And there could be.”

  “What? How?”

  “Whoever hid Wayland’s buckle in these walls might have hidden other stolen goods. It’s possible. And the guys who were here last night...” He shook his head. “For them to be willing to kill, to risk their lives, not to mention a very long prison sentence, they must have thought so too.”

  Gina sank back into her chair, turning her coffee cup to the right then the left. “I don’t understand how they expected to get away with it. Didn’t they realize that Agatha and I were here? That we’d call the police? They didn’t even try to be subtle about it. There were no lights on, but they were making plenty of noise with those sledgehammers.”

  “What did you say?” Agatha felt suddenly awake, as if someone had splashed cold water on her face.

  “They were making plenty of noise...”

  “The first part.”

  “Didn’t they realize you and I were here?”

  Agatha sat up straighter. She’d retrieved her glasses when they’d first returned from the police station, and now she took them off, let them dangle on the chain, and rubbed at her eyes. Finally she replaced them, looking first at Tony and then at Gina.

  “I just remembered something. Becca stopped by. Remember? I had just walked down to the cabins, looking at the installed ground lighting with Jackson. When I came back, Becca was here. I was going to stay with her for the night.”

  “You changed your mind though, when I told you I was staying. We went to town, had dinner, and came home.”

  “Did anyone hear you say that?” Tony asked.

  Agatha drummed her fingers against the table. “Maybe. Both the outdoor and indoor work crews were packing up. They were loading stuff in their trucks, but Kolbe came back to fetch his baseball cap. He might have heard me.”

  “Okay. That would make sense, then...he told someone, and they came back to ransack the place thinking it would be empty.”

  Something about Tony’s explanation bothered Agatha.

  She felt anew the grief that flooded her heart when she’d identified Kolbe’s body. Why would someone murder him? Why was his life cut short? What could he have done differently, or was it his fate to die young?

  She remembered that in the Old Testament book of Job, it was written, “A person’s days are determined.” Did Gotte know that Kolbe would die at such a young age? It was confusing to Agatha, and she supposed it always would be. Still, something didn’t sit right with her about Tony’s explanation.

  “First of all, I don’t believe Kolbe was involved.” She held up a hand to stay off Gina’s protest. “I know. I understand I barely knew him, but he didn’t seem like the kind of person who was looking to profit from robbing someone. He was just...a kid.”

  “Kids make mistakes.” Tony’s voice was soft, low, understanding even.

  “There’s something else.” Agatha stood, walked across the kitchen to the doorway leading into the sitting area. She stared at the front door, trying to remember. Finally she snapped her fingers and turned toward Tony and Gina. “You went back for your bag.”

  “My dirty clothes.”

  “If anyone was watching...” Agatha let that hang in the air between them before she added, “There were gawkers hanging out across the street. I even waved at them.”

  “If anyone was watching, if anyone heard what Kolbe heard, then they’d see you leaving with the bag. They’d think you were gone for the night.”

  “And they’d make their move.”

  The pieces clicked into place. Now Agatha just had to figure out how Kolbe had become ensnared in such a nefarious plan, because she knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t have robbed her. Yes, he could have become involved with the wrong sort of people—people who had no regard for the sanctity and miracle of life. But whatever he’d done, whatever mistake Kolbe had made, he’d paid for it with his life.

  TONY STAYED LONG ENOUGH to help Agatha and Gina finish with the clean-up. Bannister called and said that the Rangers wouldn’t be out until the following day. He left strict instructions for Agatha’s place to be left alone—no work crew, no visitors. When Tony relayed that piece of information, both Agatha and Gina looked at him as he if were standing in the middle of the Guadalupe wearing his Sunday best.

  “Don’t blame me. I’m just the messenger.”

  Agatha’s anxiousness melted at the look on Tony’s face. Sometimes he reminded her of a puppy wanting to receive a scratch behind his ears. Other times he reminded Agatha of when she was young, when she simply wanted to feel her husband’s arms around her. Did she think of Tony like that? Did she care for him as much as she had cared for Seth? The questions confused her, so she pushed them away and assured him, “We weren’t blaming you, Tony.”

  “Though it does seem like you could throw some of your weight around as a former detective.” Gina was now dusting the drop cloths. Why was she dusting the drop cloths? “We need to get going on this renovation. Agatha’s ready to go home to see family.”

  “Have you spoken with the Dewalds? You might want to clue them in on all that’s happened.”

  “Good idea. I’m itching to get in the car and drive.”

  “There’s nothing to do here.” Agatha yawned. “And a drive might wake me up.”

  Gina darted from the room and returned with her purse and keys. Jingling them, she asked, “Care to go with us?”

  “No. I have some things I want to check out.”

  Gina stepped closer to Agatha and lowered her voice. “He has that detective gleam in his eye.”

  “Indeed he does.”

  “I don’t want you two staying alone here tonight. How about we meet over at my place, say six sharp? I’ll bring dinner.”

  “I love it when a man cooks,” Agatha admitted.

  “Actually I thought I’d order take-out from Sammi’s.”

  “Even better.” Gina cinched her purse strap over her shoulder. “Let’s go, Agatha. Time to shake a leg. And Tony, get the meatloaf if there’s any left. Sammi makes the best meatloaf in town.”

  “You told me I made the best...”

  “The best in the country. Sammi makes the best in town.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tony wanted a face-to-face with Bannister, and he wasn’t going to settle for anything less; but first, he needed new memory cards for the game cameras he’d placed around Agatha’s place. He stopped by the sporting goods store on his way to the pol
ice station.

  Georgia Maples had opened the store six months earlier. If Tony had passed her on the street, he would not have guessed her for a fisher or hunter. Apparently, she was both. She dressed the part, but that was where any similarities to an outdoor woman stopped. She wore expertly applied make-up, had nails that were always painted a bright color, and her hair looked as if it had been done at a salon in San Antonio. Tony wasn’t an expert on any of those things, but he’d learned to pay attention to details when he was a detective. It was the little things that told you so much about a person.

  “What can I do for you, Tony?” As usual, Georgia wore top-of-the-line sports clothes—a North Face tee, designer jeans, and a Carhartt fishing vest. She believed in being a walking billboard for the clothes she sold.

  He found himself wondering how Agatha would look in those clothes, shook the thought from his head, and smiled at Georgia.

  “I need some new memory cards for those cameras you sold me.”

  “The ones I sold you earlier this week?”

  “The same.”

  “Lose them already?”

  “Stolen.”

  “Huh.” She cocked her head to the side, then moved to the display behind the counter, found the cards he needed without looking up his previous order, and set them on the counter. “Anything else?”

  “Ammo for a Glock?”

  “Sure.” She set the box of shells next to the memory cards. “You expecting more trouble out your way?”

  “Not expecting, but I don’t want to be surprised by it either.”

  “Folks are saying there’s more treasure hidden at Agatha’s.”

  “That’s doubtful, but the Texas Rangers will resolve any such rumors for once and all tomorrow.”

  “How are you going to keep people away from there tonight?”

  “I’m hoping the murder of Kolbe Burke will be deterrent enough.”