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position. There’s more though.” Callie told Deborah about the shoe prints on each side of the body and about Aaron seeing a man push the old lady.
    “Who would push her?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, a shove — even onto concrete — can’t kill someone.”
    “Deborah, it’s so creepy — someone who I’ve been in a feud with dying. I always thought I’d have time to win her over, but now …”
    “It’s not your fault, and you did attempt to gain her friendship. More than once. You know this.”
    “Maybe I should have tried harder.” Callie glanced over at Mrs. Knepp’s body, and Deborah noticed the color draining from her face again.
    “None of us are able to choose our day, Callie. Don’t look at her that way. Don’t look at her as if it’s your fault.”
    “It’s more than her being dead and on the corner of my lot. Whoever Aaron saw push her is still out there. They probably ran away because of Max’s barking.” Callie reached for Deborah’s hands. “And think of this — they were bold enough to harm her so close to my shop, on one of the busiest nights of the year. What kind of person does that? And why?”
    Deborah didn’t know how to answer that question, didn’t know where to begin. Before she could think of what to say though, another car pulled up on the street — a car teenage boys refer to as a hot rod. Yellow with a black stripe over the hood, it blocked in several other vehicles, and Deborah could just make out Shane Black sitting behind the wheel.
    She’d heard Callie’s questions, but she had no answers for her. She also heard Callie’s sharp intake of breath at the sound of Shane’s car, and she had no answer for that either. Something had been going on between those two for some time. Something neither one was willing to admit.
    Thoughts of home flitted through her mind, but Deborah pushed them away. She realized Martha would need to catch a ride to their farm with her
aenti
who had a booth tonight in the downtown area. She couldn’t possibly leave Callie and Melinda until they were cleared to go home as well. And Callie might need a place to sleep for the evening if she didn’t want to remain here.
    Though Deborah had risen early to prepare for what was supposed to be one of the biggest festivals of the year, the day had taken an unexpected turn. With a sinking feeling, Deborah realized her own bed was a place she wouldn’t see for many hours.

Chapter 4
    S HANE FORCED HIMSELF to remain in his car and survey the scene. It wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to push through the growing crowd until he reached Callie’s side, and then pull her into his arms and assure himself she wasn’t hurt.
    But plainly she was not hurt.
    He could see that from where he sat. Plus dispatch had reported one deceased and that would be the lady facedown in the parking lot with her arms splayed out to her sides. The woman appeared to be Amish, but Shane knew from his years as a county detective that clothing didn’t prove a thing.
    Floodlights had already been set up by the crime-tech team. They revealed large muddy footsteps tracking away from the body and down the sidewalk to the south. Apparently this wasn’t the work of a professional. Either that or this guy wanted to be followed. By the size of those footprints, Shane concluded the perp was a he. But, given it was an old lady who had been attacked and Shane didn’t see her handbag lying around, he would have bet his 1971 Buick GSX the perp was a he without even examining the footprints.
    And Shane didn’t anticipate parting with his classic Buick.
    Possibly this hadn’t been a crime. Shane pulled his ChicagoCubs ball cap down farther on his head and considered the possibility.
    Could be that someone found her dead and ran, but that was unlikely. Most folks in this town stuck around, called for help, and answered the officers’ questions. Even the Amish — who didn’t care to have their pictures snapped by a reporter