When the Bishop Needs an Alibi

by Vannetta Chapman

  And with that happy thought, he hustled across the yard and into his house.

  Fifty-Five

  Tess had driven less than a mile when Emma said, “Pull over. There. In that parking area.”

  She turned the automobile into the lot and parked it next to the horse and buggy waiting there. The words across the front of the building, Bread 2 Go, were clearly visible by the parking lot lights, though the inside of the shop was dark and the sign hanging in the window had been turned to “Closed.” Three ladies stood beside the buggy—Ruth Schwartz, Franey Graber, and Nancy Kline.

  “Wait here. I need to speak to them.”

  “All right, but hurry, Emma.”

  Emma jumped out of the vehicle and jogged over to where her three friends were waiting.

  “Emma. What are you doing out so late? And with an Englischer to boot?” Franey frowned at Tess’s car. When Tess waved at her, she shrugged and turned back toward Emma. “Are you all right?”

  “Ya. We were at the diner, and they closed.”

  “Of course they closed. It’s past eleven.” Nancy stepped forward and put her hand on Emma’s arm. “I can tell something’s wrong. What is it?”

  Ruth clasped her hands in front of her. “We heard Henry was released. How is he doing? I can’t imagine having to wear one of those awful devices. It’s terrible that they would think him capable of such a thing, and after all Henry has done to help this community—”

  “The Englischer is Sophia’s schweschder.” Emma didn’t like interrupting Ruth, but then the woman could prattle on. “We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

  “Hurry?” Franey squinted toward the car again, as if she could intimidate Tess into jumping out of it and confessing whatever foolish errand they might be on. “Why? Where could you possibly be going at this hour?”

  “Do you need help?” Nancy looked ready to climb into the back of Tess’s car.

  Ruth stood swiveling her gaze between the car and Emma. Her mouth gaped open, either surprised that she’d been interrupted or shocked that Emma was once again involved in a murder investigation.

  “I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to do me a favor. If I’m not back by daybreak, tell Henry and Clyde we’ve gone to the sand dunes.”

  “Henry?”

  “Clyde?”

  “Sand dunes?”

  Emma almost laughed at the looks on her friends’ faces. “We’re chasing down a few clues.”

  “At this hour?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Just say you’ll do this one thing for me. Please don’t worry them tonight. I think…that is, I hope to be home well before daybreak. Just stop by to check on your way into town in the morning.”

  “Not tonight?” Nancy asked.

  “Nein. Tomorrow is fine.”

  “But Emma—”

  “If I’m not back by morning, tell them we’re going to the sand dunes where Highway 150 crosses Mosca Creek—one mile east and to the north of the creek. A trail there leads north through the woods to a clearing. Can you remember that?”

  “Ya. Of course we can,” Franey said.

  The three women nodded their heads as one.

  Emma was back at the car when she thought to ask, “Why are you three out so late?”

  “Sold everything in the shop. Our shelves were bare, so we had to get a leg up on tomorrow’s baking.” Nancy’s tone conveyed everything there was to say about how pleased she was about that. “Who knew Englischers liked fresh bread so much?”

  “Who indeed?” Emma murmured, sliding back into the front seat and fastening her seat belt.

  “You know those people?” Tess asked.

  “Ya. They’re freinden.”

  “Friends?”

  “Ya. Gut ones.” Emma stared into the side-view mirror. Her friends hadn’t moved. They were watching the car drive away, and Nancy raised her hand and waved. It was as if Emma were watching her life fade into the distance as she raced off into the unknown.

  Tess accelerated as they headed east on Highway 150, the lights of Monte Vista fading in Emma’s side-view mirror. No cars were following them, that was for certain. The evening was moonless, with only the light of a million stars and the beam from Tess’s headlights to guide their way.

  “Tell me about Sophia. That is, if you feel like talking about her.”

  Tess glanced at her and then stared out at the road, as if she needed to keep all of her attention on what was ahead of them. But Emma knew from experience that grief was easier to bear when it was shared. She’d needed to talk about her husband, George, after he’d died. Sharing precious memories with her son, daughter-in-law, grandchildren, and even Henry had helped to heal the aching places in her heart.

  “Sophia was always the unconventional one,” Tess said. “She didn’t much care what other people thought.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “In high school, she would sometimes wear her hair in pigtails. No one did that. It was a hairstyle for third graders. Sophia would comb her hair into two pigtails, one on each side of her head, and tie ribbons into her hair—little slips of ribbon our mom had lying around her craft room. If anyone else had tried it, they would have been laughed out of the lunchroom. When Sophia tried it, you’d think she’d started a trend.”

  “She was popular?”

  “In a way, though not like a cheerleader or anything. It’s more that she was just fun to be around. She didn’t complain a lot, and she wasn’t as moody as most of us were. Being around her was encouraging. Even as we grew older, I’d call her when I was down, and by the time we’d finished talking…” Tess’s voice grew soft. She cleared her throat once and then again. “By the time we finished talking, I would feel better.”

  “She sounds like a very gut person.”

  “She was.” Tess smiled and darted a look at Emma. “Not that she was perfect, mind you. One time she snuck out of the house to meet a friend—they were going to walk across town to spy on a boy.”

  “Oh my.”

  “She wasn’t even dating yet. It was like a middle school crush. When my parents found out, Mom gave her a lecture, and Dad planted a rosebush outside her window.”

  “I might have to remember that one when my grandsons get older. I suspect they’re going to be a handful.”

  “She liked to read too much. And blogging?” Tess shook her head. “She made an okay living, I guess, but Sophia was smart. She could have been anything—a doctor or teacher or camp director. She was very good with children. I always thought…I always thought she and Cooper would have a houseful of kids.”

  And in that instant, Emma was reminded that Tess had lost more than her sister. She’d also lost her brother-in-law and the chance to have nieces and nephews. She silently vowed to pray for this woman long after their paths parted.

  “Your parents have passed?” Emma asked.

  “A few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, Tess. It sounds like you’re alone, and I know it must feel that way too. But you’re not. I’m your freind. Henry is your freind, and I imagine many people care about you back in New York City.”

  Tess nodded, but she didn’t agree or disagree.

  The Sangre de Cristo Mountains loomed in front of them.

  “How tall are they?” Tess asked.

  “Thirteen thousand feet? Something like that. When we first moved here, I loved looking at them on the horizon. I suppose, over the years, I’ve stopped noticing them, but they are beautiful.”

  “We’re going to find whoever did this, Emma. We’re going to find the people responsible for Sophia’s death, and then we’re going to make sure justice is served.”

  Emma prayed it was true, but over the years she’d learned that justice often took a different form than what she imagined.

  Fifty-Six

  Sophia’s directions had been clear. Once they’d deciphered the code, it made perfect sense, and Emma felt confident they would find the right spot. They simply had to drive to
ward the entrance to the Great Sand Dunes National Park, slow where Highway 150 crossed Mosca Creek, and then pull over and park one mile east and to the north of the creek. They’d walk the rest of the way.

  The dunes were the tallest in North America. Emma had been there once when the children were younger, when they’d first moved to Monte Vista. Since then, it seemed that the years slipped by, and there had been less time for sightseeing. Or maybe they’d taken the natural beauty around them for granted. Well, she had. Silas and Katie Ann managed to visit the dunes several times a year. Sometimes the teens would hire a driver and go on a day hike there when work on the farm allowed.

  Being part of a high-altitude desert, the temperatures could be quite extreme. It was fortunate they were attempting to catch a killer in September. In the summer, the sand surface could reach 150 degrees, and in the winter, minus 20. Emma said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that they were chasing criminals in the moderate weather of fall.

  A bobcat darted across the road, but Tess barely slowed down. She was focused on one thing—reaching the pickup point before Sophia’s killers. And who could blame her? It was the last pickup noted in Cooper’s journal. If they didn’t catch whoever it was tonight, chances were they never would.

  “I wonder if we should have alerted the police,” Emma said.

  “How could we? From the sound of it, only Grayson can definitely be trusted. And we don’t know where he is or how to reach him.”

  “Surely there’s someone else there we can trust.”

  “But who?” Tess glanced at her.

  In the glow of the dashboard lights, Emma could make out the strain on the woman’s face. When was the last time she’d slept? It had been less than a week since Sophia was killed, but Tess looked as if she’d been ravaged by worry and grief in that time.

  “I don’t know,” Emma admitted. “Normally I would say Sheriff Grayson, but Henry had no way to contact him. Grayson told him he would be in touch, but that could be tonight or even tomorrow.”

  “And we couldn’t wait.” Tess ran her left hand up and down her right arm, as if she were cold, though the temperature was pleasant inside the car. “Thank you for coming with me, Emma. You didn’t have to.”

  Emma let that observation fade into the night. There was no use in second-guessing what they were doing. The mountains now towered against the horizon. She couldn’t so much see them in the darkness as she could sense that they were there. Looking out her window, she saw no stars, but if she craned her head and looked up, she could make out the band of light from the millions or even billions of stars that made up the Milky Way.

  People thought the Amish didn’t appreciate science, but that wasn’t so. Rachel was such a reader, and the grandchildren had such inquisitive minds that books from the library were always lying around. Often they were scientific in nature. Just the week before, Emma had caught Clyde reading about snow and rainfall in the mountains and how the valley acted as a watershed for that precipitation. Amish didn’t reject logic, but neither did they feel a need to question everything they saw. For them, it was a matter of balance.

  “How big is this place?” Tess asked.

  “Huge. More than forty thousand acres.”

  “And tall. The dunes are so tall.”

  “Seven hundred and fifty feet above the valley floor.”

  “How do you remember those things? Are you like Henry? Are you a savant?” There was a teasing note in Tess’s question. Or perhaps it was nerves.

  “Nein. It’s easy enough to remember what my grandkinner tell me. Silas is interested in the resources of the area. He’s a farmer—at least I think he will be. But he loves to go with his freinden to the different areas in the valley. He loves to be outside in nature.”

  “And he’s visited this area?”

  “Several times, and Katie Ann is always coming home talking about the elk, mountain lions, turkeys, and grouse.”

  “Anything dangerous?”

  “Elk can be, and of course a mountain lion is a fierce but beautiful creature. Black bears have even been spotted in this area.”

  “Did you say black bears?” Tess jerked the wheel to pull her vehicle back squarely in their lane. “Black bears are dangerous, aren’t they? Or is that brown bears? I can never remember.”

  “I suppose black bears can be. The thing to remember is that they’re not sitting around waiting for people to pass by. Katie Ann says this area belonged to the animals first, and we’re just visiting.”

  “She sounds like a special girl.”

  “That she is.”

  “Still, I wish I had one of those bells you wear around your neck to warn away the bears.”

  “It would be hard to sneak up on a murderer if you’re wearing a bell.”

  “Good point.”

  “Plus, some people call those a dinner bell.”

  “How about bear spray?”

  Instead of answering, Emma remembered something Silas told her the winter before. “Do you know how to tell the difference between black bear poop and grizzly bear poop?”

  “Um…no.”

  “Black bear poop is smaller and contains lots of berries and squirrel fur.”

  “Ew.”

  “Grizzly bear poop has bells in it and smells like pepper.”

  “Not funny, Emma.” Tess shook her head in mock despair, or maybe it was real despair. “I’ve never met an Amish person before, but if you’d asked me a week ago, I wouldn’t have guessed that you’d be willing to chase a murderer or that you had a sense of humor. I might have given both of those things fifty-fifty odds.”

  Emma shrugged. Too many people watched television shows about the Amish, in her opinion. Watched them and believed what they saw there was true.

  They were nearly to the spot where the directions indicated they were to turn off the road. Tess slowed and peered through the windshield.

  “Despite the size of this place, Cooper had the spot exactly marked. The person he had on the inside, whoever it was, must have been well trusted in the organization to know these sorts of details.”

  “Someone who didn’t approve of what they were doing,” Emma said. “But didn’t know how to get out.”

  “So instead he, or she, shared the story with a journalist.”

  “Hoping to stop whatever is happening.”

  “But that story didn’t stop them. It didn’t even see the light of day as far as we can tell. It only resulted in Cooper being killed.”

  “Which would have been enough to send the informant scrambling for cover.” Tess rubbed the tips of her fingers across her forehead.

  They parked off the road on the shoulder. The clock on the dashboard read 12:22. If the pickup was at 3:00, then they had two and a half hours to get in place.

  “Do you think it’s okay to leave the car here?” Emma asked.

  “Shouldn’t be anyone else out. And I don’t see that we have any option.”

  Emma knew she was right. And besides, if something happened to them, at least the police would find the car. She pushed that thought away. Nothing was going to happen. They were going to hide near the pickup point, take some pictures or video on Tess’s camera, and then scamper back to safety. They got out of the car and searched the surrounding woods for a trail of some sort, but saw nothing. Tess started back at the far side of the road and walked more slowly, Emma inches behind her.

  “There,” Emma whispered.

  Tess played the beam of her flashlight on the ground where there was indeed the faintest outline of a trail. “This is the spot. It has to be.”

  They set off at a slow but steady pace, down the trail and into the woods. Emma was grateful for her tennis shoes. The path was damp in places and rocky in others. She pulled her sweater more tightly around her. The temperature felt as if it had dropped at least ten degrees in the last hour. The trail widened, and she moved up to walk beside Tess.

  “I’m not sure what we’re expecting to see,” she admitted, her voi
ce a hushed whisper.

  “Whatever they’re picking up, that’s what we’re going to see. We’re going to find out what this is about, what is worth killing people for.”

  “Sophia’s husband included directions, dates, even times in his journal, but he never said specifically what is happening. Why do you think that is?”

  “Three possibilities. Maybe he knew and wrote about it in a different journal entry—we only read a few. Or possibly he knew and didn’t want to put it in writing yet. In case someone found his notes and could decipher them.”

  “And the last possibility?”

  “He didn’t know, at least not for certain.”

  “What about Sophia?”

  “She figured it out, probably even had proof. That’s why they killed her.”

  A shiver raced down Emma’s spine, and it wasn’t from the cold. She’d agreed to tag along because Tess was coming whether she did or not. Emma didn’t think she could live with knowing that she might have somehow protected the young girl but didn’t. She wished, though, that they had made the time to call one of the phone shacks and leave a message with someone other than the widows.

  She’d told Clyde and Rachel not to wait up, but if either of them checked to see if she was home and found she wasn’t, they’d be worried. And Henry would have no idea Tess hadn’t taken her home.

  “And we’re only taking pictures? With your…” She waved toward Tess’s phone.

  “Or a video. That’s all we need to do. Once we have the proof, I plan to send it directly to the news media. Then the investigators can come in and figure out the details, but they won’t be able to deny it. I’ll post it on YouTube if I have to.”

  “You who?”

  “YouTube.”

  “I don’t understand what that is.”

  “It’s a video sharing site on the Internet.”

  “Ah.” Emma had an overwhelming longing to be back home, where no one worried about phones or videos or tubes that shared videos.

  They continued down the path for another ten minutes before Tess reached out and tugged on Emma’s arm, bringing her to an abrupt stop. To their right was a small meadow. They crept through twenty feet of forest. Pine trees rose high above them, and the sound of a creek gurgled in the distance.