What the Bishop Saw

by Vannetta Chapman

  Henry struggled to his feet and continued in the direction it seemed Sam must have been going. He found Lexi after only a few minutes of searching. The little beagle was lying in the bottom of a ravine, half in and half out of the water.

  She didn’t raise her head when Henry squatted beside her, but her tail began to thump a happy beat. When he ran his hand up and down her side, she made a feeble attempt to lick his fingers. It was obvious that she had been kicked, possibly injuring her ribs again, and one eye was swollen from where she’d landed hard against the ground. Other than those two things, she seemed okay. She whimpered softly and laid her head back on the ground.

  “It’ll be all right, now.” He shrugged out of his jacket, surprised he still had it on after putting out the fire and then hurrying through the woods. “This may hurt a little. Don’t bite me.”

  But Lexi only stared up at him with large brown eyes as he moved her onto the jacket, wrapped her up, and then carried her back to Emma and Katie Ann.

  He arrived as Sam was beginning to stir.

  Seventy-Three

  He must have snuck up behind me.” Sam pulled away from Emma and stared at the cloth she was holding as if he couldn’t fathom where the blood stains had come from. He raised a hand to the back of his head and winced.

  “Who?” Henry asked.

  “Not sure. As I was leaving the barn, I saw him slinking off into the woods.”

  “Why didn’t you stop to help with the fire?”

  “Fire?” Sam attempted to jump up, but Emma placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s all right. There was little damage. Katie Ann and Henry managed to put it out.”

  Sam shook his head. “There wasn’t any fire when I left. I’m sure of it. I would have noticed or smelled it, even if it was just beginning.”

  “Then how—”

  “I suppose he attached a timer to whatever he’s using to start the fires.”

  “Like he did with the bonfire.”

  “It’s not that difficult a thing to do, but it does seem to point to the fact that this is not merely a teenager messing around.”

  “No. I think we’re well past that theory.”

  “Why would he hang around at all once he’d started the timer?” Emma asked.

  “He probably wasn’t expecting anyone to be home.”

  “So he knew about the workday at Henry’s?” Katie Ann tilted her head to the side, as if this was a puzzle she might figure out.

  “No doubt everyone in the community knew about the workday. They even broadcast it on the local news.” Henry shook his head. “Which provided a perfect time for him to stage his next fire.”

  “Maybe he snuck up to the barn, not expecting anyone to be there. He heard Katie Ann and me, he set the timer, and then ran off into the woods. When I saw him, my only thought was that someone running away from the barn didn’t seem right. Didn’t seem to me that anyone should have been on the Fisher place. I knew everyone in the family was at your place, Henry.”

  “Why did you leave my house before the work was finished?” Henry realized his tone sounded like that of an interrogator. Perhaps he’d spent too much time around Meg. Maybe that was what came of mixing with the Englisch.

  “Katie Ann wanted a ride home…” He started to say something else but snapped his jaw shut.

  “So you stayed in the barn a few minutes—”

  “He was helping me, and we were talking,” Katie Ann said. “Nothing more.”

  “We’re not worried that anything inappropriate might have happened,” Emma assured her.

  To Henry it seemed as if Emma’s migraine was easing. He certainly hoped and prayed it had. He’d never seen her suffer so intensely from one, but perhaps he’d never paid enough attention.

  “You still think he may have done it?” Katie Ann minced no words.

  Sam had been staring at Lexi, but now he raised his eyes to Henry. The flicker of emotions across the lad’s face shamed Henry—he read easily enough his surprise, then hurt, and finally a quiet resolve.

  “Nein, I no longer think Sam was involved,” he said to Katie Ann.

  Turning his attention to Sam, he said, “When Katie Ann told me you were in the barn, I’ll admit my faith in you wavered. There have been so many coincidences, and at every event you were either present or in the neighborhood.”

  “Ya, I was beginning to doubt myself, as if I might have done something I know I didn’t do. And I never should have even considered leaving Katie Ann here by herself. “

  “Still, it was wrong of me to suspect you. I’d like to ask your forgiveness.”

  Sam had been sitting on the ground, holding the cloth to his head, but at Henry’s words he stood, wiped his hands on his pants, and said, “Of course I forgive you. I also respect you for caring about us and protecting our families.”

  “It is Gotte who protects us, though it would help if He would send a postcard just now to tell us what to do next.”

  “We need to get Lexi to Doc Berry.” Katie Ann had taken the dog from Henry’s arms. Now she was stroking Lexi’s velvety ears.

  “Ya, she needs the veterinarian for sure.” Henry hesitated, peered around them, and then asked Emma, “How are you doing? Is it terribly painful for you to stay outside?”

  She waved away his concerns. “The worst of it was out in the sunlight. Now that we’re in the shade… the pain remains but is manageable.”

  “Gut. I don’t want you to go back to the house alone. Not yet. Not until Clyde has returned home. I don’t think it’s safe for any of us to be there.”

  “We could all go back to your place.” The bleeding on Sam’s head had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped completely. “Send the Englischers out here to search.”

  “If he’s here, he’d be gone by then.” Katie Ann’s voice was soft, low, and she kept her eyes focused on the dog.

  Henry turned slowly in a circle, and then he stopped in front of Sam. “Do you think the person who hit you could still be here?”

  “Maybe. He ran into these woods. I don’t think he’d have risked coming out on the other side of this fence. The Klines keep an old bull in that pen.”

  “He might have run past you.”

  “Possibly,” Sam admitted. “But wouldn’t you have seen him? It sounds as if you were still at the barn when I was chasing him into these woods. You would have seen him come out, or you would have passed him when you came in.”

  “Makes sense. I say we look around.” Henry didn’t like it, but he also understood this might be a rare opportunity. He’d never wished for the Englischers’ technology, but he could certainly use one of their cell phones right now. “If we can catch him, we can stop this destruction.”

  “As long as we all stay together.” Emma put her hand through Katie Ann’s arm. “And no longer than a half hour. We need to have the wound on Sam’s head looked after, as well as the dog.”

  Henry walked in front, followed by Emma and Katie Ann. Sam brought up the rear of their little group.

  They retraced Henry’s steps to the spot where he’d found Lexi. The woods weren’t that large or that dense, and he had a hard time imagining where someone could hide. They walked to the far western side, then tracked back toward the east. They were roughly in the middle and had stopped to consider which direction to go next when Lexi emitted a low, throaty growl.

  They stepped closer together, forming a tight circle, then turned as one toward the outside, each looking in a different direction.

  But none of them was looking up.

  Douglas Rae landed on the ground in front of Emma, holding a crowbar in one hand and sporting a backpack.

  Henry blinked once and then again. Douglas was the Monte Vista arsonist?

  Douglas was the person who had killed Vernon Frey, burned down his workshop, and hurt innocent people at the newspaper?

  His mind couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact. In truth, he looked like a teenage boy. His black hair flopped in front of h
is eyes, and he wore a baseball cap backward. His jeans were freshly pressed, and his cargo jacket was old but clean. For some reason, the T-shirt he wore under the jacket was on inside out.

  Henry knew Douglas. Most everyone in Monte Vista did. He’d won the state chess championship the first year they’d moved to Colorado, and he was a frequent visitor at their auctions and yard sales. Of course, in a small rural area, nearly everyone knew everyone else, whether they were Amish or Englisch.

  The person in front of them was responsible for a long string of destruction and death and injury.

  With a puzzled look, Douglas asked, “Why couldn’t you all leave well enough alone?”

  Seventy-Four

  Emma nearly choked on her reply. “Well enough alone? Did you do all of this, Douglas?” When he didn’t answer, she moved in front of him, hands on her hips. “You did. It’s plainly written on your face. You tried to burn down my son’s barn, you did burn down the bishop’s workshop, and you killed Vernon Frey. You are an evil, evil man.”

  Douglas raised the crowbar, but Henry and Sam stepped in front of Emma, shielding her and Katie Ann from harm.

  “You’re pacifists, remember?” A little spittle flew from his lips, and the anger in his eyes sent a shiver down Emma’s spine.

  “It’s true we will not harm you,” Henry said. He held up both hands, palms forward. “But your reign of terror is over. We can and will identify you to the police.”

  “I won’t let you do that.”

  “How are you going to stop us?”

  Emma could see that Sam’s hands were curled into tight fists. Katie Ann was still clutching the dog, her head swiveling back and forth between their group and Douglas Rae.

  “Will you kill four more people?” Emma asked. “Will you have that on your conscience?”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong, only what was necessary because of you people. I’ve done nothing except set a few things right.” Douglas pushed through Henry and Sam and grabbed Emma roughly by the arm, raising the crowbar over her head. “Do as I say, or I’ll bean her like I did you, Sam. You think I don’t know your names? I know everything about you. I’ve been paying attention. You’re the ones who don’t understand what’s happening around you.”

  He jerked his head to the southeast. “That way. Where the field meets the road. Let’s go.”

  Emma met Henry’s gaze. He shook his head slightly. She wanted to push this young man, to knock the crowbar from his arm. Pacifism was good and fine, but this was her granddaughter, her neighbor, and her friend. She couldn’t allow them to come to harm.

  But the warning in Henry’s eyes changed the direction of her thoughts. Perhaps if they went with Douglas, he would take them to where he was staying. No doubt there would be plenty of evidence there. It was a bold plan, and it would only work if he thought they were cowed. People like Douglas Rae wanted control of their situation. They wanted to believe others would do whatever they said.

  So Emma allowed her hand to shake slightly, and in her meekest voice she said, “Ya, we’ll go with you, Douglas. Only don’t hurt anyone.”

  He scowled at her, but she thought she detected a look of triumph in his eyes.

  “Old man, you go first. Then Sam and the girl with the mutt. Mrs. Fisher and I will bring up the rear. Try anything crazy, and she’ll be the first to go down.”

  He clutched her arm hard enough to leave fingerprints.

  But that was nothing. Bruises would heal. She needed to find a way to keep Katie Ann safe.

  It would be easy enough to fall to the ground and take Douglas Rae with her. She could scream run as she fell. But would they run? Would they leave her? She doubted it. No, she needed a better plan.

  It took them less than ten minutes to exit the woods and cross the field. In the distance, Emma saw the barn, the door still open, and the horses cropping grass in the pasture. Little had changed and yet everything was different. They now knew who meant their community harm, who was bent on scaring them away. What they didn’t know was how to stop him.

  At the southeast corner of the property, Emma saw an Englisch automobile. It was the same rusted sedan Douglas had been driving when he passed her and Katie Ann on the road the day they saw him at the newspaper office. It had probably been parked here as they’d driven home today. They’d passed it, but with her migraine, she’d never noticed.

  Douglas was right. They didn’t know what was happening around them. They hadn’t been paying attention. She hadn’t put together all the clues that pointed to him being the arsonist.

  The sun’s position in the sky told her plenty of hours of daylight remained. Though she didn’t wear a watch, she guessed it to be near six in the evening. Normally everyone would be coming in from the field, settling around the kitchen table, saying a silent prayer of blessing over their food.

  But no one else would be coming down the road toward their home, not for several hours.

  The summer days were long, and everyone at Henry’s would work until eight, maybe nine that night. They’d enjoy dinner, fellowship, prayer, and the contentment of knowing they were helping one of their own. They would think Emma was in bed resting, that Katie Ann was caring for the horses, and that Sam had slipped away to work on his fields.

  She’d heard Henry say he intended to visit Rebecca after seeing her home.

  It would be hours before anyone would look for them.

  As they approached the car, Emma kept her eyes open, scanning constantly for a way to escape. And as she did so, she prayed with all of her might that God would protect those she loved, that He would send someone to rescue them, and that Douglas would be stopped from spreading more mayhem or committing another murder.

  Seventy-Five

  Douglas needed a plan.

  On the one hand, it was terrible that they had caught him.

  Why had he run into the woods? The odds of them making the decision to follow him were extremely low, less than three percent near as he could calculate. Maybe it was because of the dog.

  And who would have thought there would be a bull on the other side of that fence? He had looked like something out of a cartoon with those long, sharp horns. Douglas wasn’t about to risk his life climbing into the same field as that beast. No, he wasn’t a fool. So he’d waited in the woods. He’d hit the dog with the crowbar when it had first come charging at him. He had aimed for the mutt’s head, but it had turned at the last second, and he’d struck it in the ribs. Another piece of bad luck. Another statistically improbable turn of events.

  Sam had heard the dog yelp and come running. He was so busy watching for the beast that he’d never heard Douglas walk up behind him.

  As the crowbar connected with the back of his head, the impact made a satisfying sound. “That’s for ignoring me in school. And for having the perfect life while I suffered through a despicable existence.”

  He’d tried to befriend Sam once, back when they were in eighth grade, before he’d realized the Amish weren’t about to allow the likes of him into their closed circle. The result had been swift and humiliating. Sam had barely spoken at all, murmured something about needing to help his dad, and hurried in the opposite direction. Some kids standing close by had broken into laughter, calling him a loser and telling him to just go home. That was the last time Douglas had tried to make friends with anyone. He’d learned his lesson.

  He’d thought he was safe once he’d taken care of the dog and Sam, but then he’d seen the others coming closer, and he’d climbed the tree. If it wasn’t for that stupid dog’s growl, they never would have stopped under the tree where he was hiding on their way out.

  They’d reached his old Buick when Douglas had an idea.

  He fished the car keys out of his pocket, unlocked the trunk, and then thrust the keys at Sam.

  “Drive.”

  “Me?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know how.”

  “It’s been years.”

  “I know you can drive.” D
ouglas almost laughed at the look on his face. “I’ve seen you around. I’ve been watching you. We were in eighth grade together. You… you people had just moved here. You don’t even remember, do you? You dropped out that year, but I had to stay in and deal with algebra and Shakespeare and chemistry.”

  “You were good in all of those subjects.”

  “Of course I was, but that didn’t stop the football jocks from stuffing me in a locker or tripping me as I walked down the hall.”

  “You fought a lot.”

  “I defended myself. The next year was worse, but while I was spending time in the principal’s office, you were already earning money. And while I was still riding a bike, you already had a car.”

  The memories flowed over him like a bad wind. They haunted him in his sleep and flamed his anger. By all calculations, the others should have left him alone, but they never had. The worst of it was that he ought to have been able to think of a way to make them stop since the principal apparently couldn’t and his mother wouldn’t.

  He could still see the sneer on her face as she said, “Gotta learn to defend yourself. For all your smarts, seems you’d figure that out.”

  It had taken years before he’d learned to think of a way to even the score.

  Douglas opened the trunk, all the time careful to hold the crowbar in a threatening gesture. Quick as a cat, he dropped the crowbar into the trunk and picked up the gun he should have kept in his pocket. But he wasn’t expecting to run into anyone. They were all supposed to be rebuilding Henry’s workshop.

  A satisfying feeling cascaded over him when he saw the fear in their eyes. A good weapon could have that effect on people and cause them to respect you and take you seriously.

  A car appeared in the distance, and Douglas realized he’d taken too long. He slammed the trunk shut.

  “Get in. Get in! Preacher man, you get up front with him.” He opened the back door and pushed the girl onto the seat. Mrs. Fisher wouldn’t meet his eyes. She dropped in beside her granddaughter and slid over to the middle of the seat. Douglas jumped in and slammed the door at the same moment Sam started the car.