And before he knew it, the time had come to hitch up the buggy and go to Leroy’s.
“Grateful you weren’t hurt, girl.” He patted the mare along her neck and climbed up into the buggy. He’d been undecided on whether to take Lexi with him. In the end he figured she had earned the trip. He called to her, but she was too short to climb up into the buggy. Reaching down, he managed to get a hand under her little belly. If she was suffering from the night before, she did a good job of hiding it.
The little dog rode beside him on the seat. It seemed that already, after only a few days, her one desire was to be next to him. How was it that a dog’s heart so quickly settled on its owner? He’d never given it much thought, but then again, he’d never personally owned a dog.
He reached over to scratch between her ears, and Lexi’s look of complete bliss told him he’d made the right decision to bring her.
He’d thought he was arriving early, but Leroy’s drive was already lined with buggies, and his yard was filled with men, women, and children milling about.
Meg and Sheriff Grayson were standing on the front porch steps.
Emma’s grandson, Silas, accepted the reins of his buggy and told the bishop, “Leroy asked for you to go on inside as soon as you arrived.”
Which wasn’t as easy as it would seem to be.
Everyone wanted a word with him. Those who hadn’t made it by his place assured him they would. Those who had, promised to come back. Henry was again filled with an enormous sense of gratitude.
He climbed the back porch steps and told Lexi to stay. She turned twice in a circle and lay where she had a good view of the door. Rather remarkable how bright the pup was, how easily she learned basic commands.
He paused a moment to look out over Leroy’s vast fields. His place was easily the largest in the community, exceeding two hundred acres, and he’d heard the man intended to purchase more. Though it seemed a bit extravagant to Henry, it wasn’t his place to comment on how his deacon invested his money. Perhaps he was expecting all of his sons to stay in the area, in which case the extra acreage would come in handy.
Regardless, looking out over the freshly planted fields filled Henry with a degree of calm. Yes, the fires were a terrible thing that had happened, but they were drawing together as a community, as a body of faith.
Or so he thought, until he stepped into Leroy’s kitchen.
One look at Leroy’s expression told Henry there was trouble in the air.
“Has there been another fire?” He couldn’t imagine there had, given the mood of the families outside, but perhaps they hadn’t been told yet.
“Nein. It’s not that, though it’s bad enough.” Leroy never was one to mince words. “There’s something we’d like to speak to you about.”
He was a good man. Henry knew he was always the first to find a hole in any plan. That kind of person could be handy to have in leadership. Henry would rather they anticipate problems before they became a big issue.
“Allen and Grayson arrived well before everyone else,” Leroy said.
“I would have been here if I’d known.”
“As soon as they told me what they want to do, I stopped them and told them we’d discuss it no further until you arrived.”
“And what do they want to do?”
Clyde took up the story. “They want to offer a reward for members of our community to turn one another in.”
“Is that what they said?”
“It’s apparently what they meant.” Abe was scowling at a mug of coffee that was half empty. “I was here and heard their explanation. Leroy’s not exaggerating.”
“Repeat it back to me, word-for-word.”
“They said the amount of reward money the merchants offered has been increased.” Leroy crossed his arms. “When I asked why, they admitted they feel sure someone in our community knows something they haven’t shared. They think the money will be an incentive. I don’t like it, Henry. We have a gut group here, but if we begin turning on one another, that could fall apart quickly.”
“You’re not suggesting that anyone in our congregation would harbor a fugitive.”
“Of course not.”
Abe ran a thumb under his suspenders. “What Leroy is saying, and Clyde and I agree, is that this isn’t the way to go about it. If someone knows something, has seen or heard something, then they are to come to you or to one of us. We keep what is happening within the church.”
“Tell me how you feel about this, Clyde.”
The man didn’t speak right away. Instead, he stared out the window at the gathering crowd. Finally, he shrugged and admitted, “I’m not comfortable with their being here. Since you agreed to the meeting, you must have had a gut reason, but I’d rather deal with this internally.”
Henry checked the clock above the stove. Five minutes until six. It was time to begin, but he needed to deal with his leadership first. It was important that they be in one accord, even if it meant the meeting would start a few minutes late.
“This was an internal problem when it was merely Vernon dancing along the edge of the Ordnung. But as soon as it became a matter of murder, we lost the privilege to handle it within the community.” Henry combed his fingers through his beard, waited, and prayed that he would have the words to settle these men who genuinely cared about their congregation. “I trust that you have each prayed about this, but I think it’s important that we do exactly that again… together. So let’s do so now. Let’s pray.”
Henry had found the urge to share your own opinion diminished as one considered God’s perspective on a topic. The four men sat together around the table and bowed their heads. He didn’t lead them. In fact, no one spoke. But they each closed their eyes, and Henry silently prayed they would all bare their hearts before God. He prayed for wisdom, for God’s will to be made plain, for them to have the courage and dedication to clear the path for that will.
For them to put others first.
For them to trust in God’s omnipotence even in such a tragic and confusing situation as this.
He closed the prayer with one of his favorite sentiments from Paul, “Always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
“Amen.”
When he glanced up at the clock, he saw that the hands had slipped to fifteen minutes past the hour. “It would seem we’re late.” And without another word, he led them out to the front porch.
Thirty-Seven
The crowd around Emma was growing somewhat restless by the time Henry stepped out of the house, followed by Leroy, Abe, and Clyde. The men filed to Emma’s right, fanning out along the porch. Henry spoke briefly with Grayson and Meg.
The arson investigator must know a little about Plain communities, because she’d thought to print the photographs of the perpetrator, but did she truly understand them? How could she? And yet they were to place their safety in her hands. Emma didn’t like it, and she was certain that those around her felt the same.
“Most of you know Sheriff Grayson.” Henry’s voice was calm, pleasant even. A driver passing by might have thought this was a regular May night, and that they were gathered for an evening social. “Since we moved here thirteen years ago, the sheriff has been a help to our community. I consider him a fair man, and I trust that you will listen to what he has to say with an open mind.”
Grayson thanked Henry and stepped forward.
To anyone else, Henry Lapp might have looked completely at ease, but Emma noticed the lines across his forehead, the way he massaged his right hand with his left, and how his smile seemed slightly forced. Only when his little dog bounded up the front steps did he smile genuinely.
“She must have heard your voice, Henry.” This from one of the men at the back of the crowd.
Emma was reminded of a verse in the New Testament. His sheep follow him because they know his voice. The little beagle certainly knew whom to follow. As a Plain community they followed Christ, and they trusted their
bishop to lead them down that path. Henry was their shepherd in more ways than one. He helped them when they were suffering heartache, sat with them when they were sick, prayed with them when they were lost. The thought helped to settle the butterflies in her stomach.
“By this time, I’m sure you all know about the fire at Henry’s place,” Grayson said.
A low murmur passed through the crowd, like a light breeze, tickling the hair on the back of Emma’s neck.
“The reason I’m here, other than to introduce our arson investigator, is to assure you that the Monte Vista authorities are doing everything within their power to catch the person responsible. We consider your families a valuable part of our community. If you have any concerns at all, please feel free to come and speak with me tonight or stop by the station in town.”
He nodded toward Meg, who stepped up front and center.
It was engrained into Plain culture that in general women did not address a crowd of men. There were no women in leadership roles, women didn’t pray aloud in church, and women rarely worked outside the home. Emma understood that the larger Englisch culture disapproved of these things, but within their group it merely seemed normal. Contrary to what Englischers thought, it didn’t mean women weren’t valued. For Amish communities, there was no more important role than caring for the family, and that was what Amish women did.
Was their opinion important? Of course it was. And that opinion was shared openly with family and friends. Their concerns held weight in the community, if for no other reason than they were a cherished part of it. All one had to do was look over at Chester and Mary, who had brought his mother, guided her up front, and made sure she had a comfortable chair to sit in. Women counted all right, but they did not give speeches.
All those thoughts passed through Emma’s mind as she watched the arson investigator scan the crowd and then begin to speak.
“Thank you, Sheriff Grayson. I appreciate everyone coming out tonight. My name is Meg Allen, and I have been assigned to this case by the county district office. I’d like to update you on the investigation, and then I’ll do my best to answer any questions.”
Emma had the childish urge to clap her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear more of this. She wanted it to be over. She wanted her family to be home, where they were safe.
“We are operating under the assumption that the person who killed Vernon Frey is the same person who caused the fire at the construction site and also the same person who destroyed Bishop Lapp’s workshop last night. In my fifteen years of arson investigations, I’ve yet to see two fire bugs working the same territory. In fact, arson is a rather rare crime, which is why I was sent here to help with the investigation.”
Emma stood between Rachel and Katie Ann, waiting for Meg to get to the point. So far, she’d told them nothing new.
“It’s my opinion that this person is targeting Amish homes and businesses. While the construction site isn’t Amish, per se, plenty of your sons and husbands are employed there. We believe the person responsible for setting these fires is male, between the ages of seventeen and fifty, Caucasian, has a slight build, and is approximately five feet eight.”
“That describes half the men in the San Luis Valley,” Rachel whispered.
“It has been my experience that in every crime committed, someone has seen something. For whatever reason, people are often hesitant to step forward. Maybe you think what you saw wasn’t important. Let me be the judge of that. It’s my job to assess and coordinate information.”
Emma noticed this comment brought a reaction in the people around her. Probably Meg Allen didn’t mean it as it sounded, as if they weren’t bright enough to know what was and wasn’t important. If Meg noticed the response, she didn’t address it.
“Maybe you would rather not become involved because you don’t want to be connected in any way to these crimes. That’s a natural feeling, but let me assure you that you are connected. You are involved already. Being a part of this community has involved you. I’d like you to help me stop this perpetrator before the person to your left or your right is hurt.”
“Gotte will protect us,” someone muttered.
“And we can watch out for our neighbors.”
“As you watched out for Vernon Frey?” Meg didn’t back down an inch. “As you watched out for your bishop?”
“His workshop will be rebuilt before you can file the proper paperwork.” This from a man in the back, though Emma couldn’t make out who it was.
“I appreciate how you support one another. A workshop, a barn, even a home can be rebuilt. I understand that. But people cannot be brought back from the dead, and our perpetrator has shown he’s willing to kill. We can’t know his motive at this point, but we do know he’s dangerous.” Meg scanned the crowd slowly. She waited until they had again grown quiet. “Which is why it would be very dangerous for you to try to protect someone. It would be unwise for you to think this criminal activity will stop with no more harm. I assure you, that’s most certainly not the case. Once an arsonist starts down this road, the situation accelerates.”
“Why would someone do such a thing?” This from Rebecca. It wasn’t clear to Emma whether she’d meant the question to be heard by Meg or whether she was merely thinking aloud.
“The majority of arson crimes are motivated by profit. Someone burns down a building and collects the insurance money. That’s obviously not what we have here.”
“What other motive is there?” Rebecca’s son asked.
“Anger. Outside of profit, anger is the most common cause of someone setting fires. Revenge is also often a factor. So what you need to ask yourself is this: Who would believe they have cause to be angry with your community? Who would want revenge?”
“Henry already gave you that list,” someone called out.
Meg looked as if she might deny that, but what was the point? As far as Emma knew, everyone was aware of Henry’s list, and most people understood why he had provided it.
“This has moved beyond anyone who had a vendetta against Mr. Frey. We’re doing everything on our end to catch this person, but by its very nature there is little evidence left at an arson site. That’s why I’m appealing to you. If you know something, come and see me. If you see something, report it. No clue is too small, and if we work together, we can catch this person.”
Meg stepped back, clearly riled by the response she’d received but tapping down her frustration.
The crowd had no additional questions, so Leroy reminded them there would be a workday at Henry’s the following Saturday.
Abe thanked everyone for coming, and Clyde told them cold drinks and sweets had been set up in the shade of the barn.
It was Sheriff Grayson who stepped forward and reminded them that the reward money had been increased from five to ten thousand dollars. The money would go to anyone who reported information that led to the arrest and conviction of the Monte Vista arsonist.
Thirty-Eight
Henry stayed until nearly everyone was gone. Grayson and Meg remained off to the side, talking with Leroy. Lewis Glick was helping Clyde and Rachel put up what was left of the refreshments, though twice he dropped plates Rachel had handed him. Henry wasn’t sure how much help Lewis was, but he thought it best not to intervene. Abe had already left, and Emma’s grandchildren were playing a game of tag in the fading light.
“That was not much fun.” Emma sank onto the porch steps next to the bishop. When she slipped off her shoe to rub her foot, Lexi bounded over and began to lick her toes.
“Never seen her do that before.” Henry’s expression relaxed, and he snagged the dog to pull her away from Emma.
“Glad I can provide you with some entertainment.”
“You always brighten my day, Emma.” The confession seemed to slip from his lips unbidden, but because it was true, he didn’t bother correcting himself. Instead, he moved the conversation along. “How do you think it went?”
“I think it put people on
edge, even more than they were.”
“Because…”
“They’d rather believe it’s over. I’d rather believe it’s over. Meg Allen pretty much assured us it’s not.”
“Forewarned is forearmed.”
“What does that mean?”
“Knowledge is a weapon against your enemy. Maybe the best weapon.”
Emma pulled a dog treat out of her pocket, held it up, and waited for Lexi to sit.
The dog fell over instead, showing her belly. Emma rubbed it and gave her the treat. “I can’t say as we’re used to having enemies.”
“In some ways this world is our enemy. Doesn’t the Bible say so? Peter reminded us of that very thing when he cautioned us to ‘be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.’ ”
“I’ve heard you quote from the Bible for years, Henry—mostly verses about Gotte’s love and mercy.”
“And there’s a time for that, but we also need to be prepared.”
“Forewarned.”
“Indeed.”
They were interrupted by Meg’s arrival.
“Henry, if I could talk to you a minute… in private.”
“You’ve met Emma. Anything you want to say to me, you can say to her.”
Meg glanced from Henry to Emma and back again. Finally, she shrugged as if her preference for privacy wasn’t worth a battle.
“I’d like to ask you about some of the men who were here tonight.”
Henry gave her the go-ahead gesture.
She consulted her small pad of paper and said, “Sam Beiler, who works as a volunteer with the local fire department.”
“You’ve already interrogated him.”
“He was markedly agitated tonight.”
“Was he now?” Henry looked to Emma for confirmation.
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