“There’s that, plus he only showed me a part of himself. He was always holding back about some things.”
“Like what?”
“Anything specific about his family. He would never talk about his life in Goshen unless I prodded him, and then he’d only tell me about the crops or jobs in town or new Amish tourist sites.”
“He never mentioned his problems with his father?”
“Nein. But I could see it in his expression if I brought up his dat.”
Two other girls passed by them. They were younger, but they called out, “Old folks headed this way. Better braid that up.”
Naomi rolled her eyes, but she didn’t resist when Katie Ann began braiding her hair. It was easier that she was facing away from her friend, that she didn’t have to see the look on her face as she spoke.
She lowered her voice and said, “Actually, I think he was hiding things from me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Jeremiah mentioned marriage a few times, but I didn’t feel that I knew him any better after two months than I did the day he moved here.”
“Give me an example.”
“He’d go to the phone shack and ask me to wait in the buggy. I could sometimes hear him raising his voice, but then when I asked him what was wrong, he’d say ‘Nothing.’”
“Why would he use the phone shack if he had a cell phone?”
“I don’t know.”
It felt good to be sharing the thoughts that had been circling in her mind. She couldn’t bring herself to voice her worries about what Jeremiah was involved in earlier, not with Ruth sitting there. It seemed cruel to speak ill of someone who had passed, but she wasn’t speaking ill. She was only being honest. Plus, she trusted Katie Ann to keep what they said private. “There’s more. He let me… let me use his phone.”
“To make calls?”
“Nein. I didn’t have anyone to call, but you can shop that way.”
“Shop?”
“Not that I ever bought anything, but I’d look.”
“It would be nice to have more selection than we have in the few stores here in Monte Vista—not that I have so much extra money.”
“Also, there are magazines you can read.”
“On the phone?”
“Ya, and news sites that tell about movie stars.” She hesitated and then added, “Even some web pages where you can learn about writing.”
“Pretty much what we can find at the library.”
“Exactly, except I didn’t have to drive into town. I could look something up while Jeremiah was finishing some work at his mammi’s or caring for her horse. It’s very convenient.”
“I imagine it is.” Katie Ann finished winding the braid on top of Naomi’s head and reached for her kapp.
“Do you think I’m terrible for having used it?”
“’Course not. You and I haven’t joined the church yet.”
“But we both plan to.”
“We do, but now is our time to try Englisch things. Mammi says it’s so we’ll know what we’re giving up.”
“Thank you for not judging me.” Naomi stood, smoothed out the apron over her dress, and then looked at Katie Ann. “You’re a gut friend.”
“As you are to me.”
They began walking back toward their families.
Naomi slowed her pace. There was still something she needed to say, to confess. “The thing is… I checked his browser history.”
“Browser?”
“It showed what sites he’d looked at on his phone. I wasn’t snooping. I just wanted to know what he was interested in.”
“And?”
“Nothing. He always deleted any evidence of what he’d done.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. It was his phone. He had a passcode protecting it. His parents weren’t even here, and if his mammi knew he had one, she never mentioned it. Certainly she never used it. She wouldn’t know how. The only reason to delete the history was so I couldn’t see what he’d been doing.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. It makes me think I didn’t really know him at all.”
Fourteen
Transcript of interview between Monte Vista Sheriff Roy Grayson and Dana Kennedy, regarding the July 27 homicide of Jeremiah Schwartz. Audiotapes and a transcript of the interview are included in the permanent case file.
Sheriff Roy Grayson #3604
TELEPHONE INTERVIEW WITH Dana Kennedy
Case #4751.06
6:30 p.m., Sunday, July 29
Sheriff Grayson (SG): Could you state your name for the recording?
Dana Kennedy (DK): Dana Kennedy
SG: Middle name?
DK: Elaine.
SG: And what is your position with Cowboy Television?
DK: I’m the producer of several of their reality shows.
SG: Including the upcoming Boots, Buckles, and Broncos.
DK: Correct.
SG: Thank you for returning my call so quickly, Ms. Kennedy.
DK: I had just heard about Jeremiah’s death. It’s quite… quite a shock. People think anyone in Hollywood is incapable of feeling, but that’s not true. We’re quite saddened by his passing. He seemed like a fine young man.
SG: Can you tell me how you first met Jeremiah?
DK: I was scouting for talent earlier this year, at the Elizabeth, Colorado, rodeo event.
SG: And that was when Jeremiah caught your eye?
DK: He was a natural, good with the horses, had a stellar smile—and let’s be honest. The Amish bring in viewers.
SG: Amish Mafia?
DK: Exactly. Only this would be more authentic, and that’s what we’re shooting for on Boots, Buckles, and Broncos—authenticity. That’s what today’s viewer craves.
SG: Did you speak to Jeremiah while you were scouting in Elizabeth?
DK: I did. I didn’t want the competition to snatch him up.
SG: You approached him about being on the show.
DK: We conducted a preliminary interview and shot a short video to see how he’d translate to the screen. Some people might look authentic riding a horse, for instance, but they can come across as too stilted or even too perfect on video. Jeremiah was every bit as good on screen as he was in person.
SG: And what was Jeremiah’s response?
DK: He was excited. Who wouldn’t be? It’s a wonderful opportunity, especially for someone with so few options.
SG: So few options?
DK: No schooling and all that. I mean, I suppose it’s fine if you’re going to be a farmer, but Jeremiah had a lot of potential.
SG: Was Jeremiah interested in your offer?
DK: Yes, of course he was.
SG: Do you think he planned to travel to Los Angeles?
DK: We already bought his ticket. (inaudible) Yes, I have the paperwork right here. He was to fly out on August 6.
SG: A week from tomorrow?
DK: That’s what it says.
SG: And you had already delivered those tickets to him?
DK: E-tickets. He should have an email from my assistant with the ticket link attached.
SG: Did you look at anyone else while scouting in Elizabeth?
DK: Yes, but they didn’t work out.
SG: Can you be more specific?
DK: Sometimes personalities just don’t click. There were a couple of possibilities in Elizabeth. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered to fly out. Usually that’s something I leave to my staff.
SG: But you felt the need to see these young men yourself?
DK: And women. It’s an equal opportunity world, Sheriff Grayson. We’ll have cowboys and cowgirls on Boots, Buckles, and Broncos.
SG: Was there anyone who thought they had a slot but were bumped because you decided on Jeremiah?
DK: How can I know what anyone thought?
SG: I’m trying to solve a homicide here, Ms. Kennedy. Any information you can provide—
no matter how seemingly insignificant—would be appreciated.
DK: (inaudible) There was a young man named Justin Lane and a girl (inaudible). The girl’s name was Piper Cox.
SG: So you auditioned three prospects for your show while in Elizabeth, Colorado—Jeremiah Schwartz, Justin Lane, and Piper Cox. Is that correct?
DK: Yes. Yes, it is.
SG: But you only offered Jeremiah a spot.
DK: A formal audition. We offered him a formal audition. Of course, we would pay all of his travel expenses as well as his food and hotel while he was here. Nothing was guaranteed, though. The final choice is the director’s.
SG: You offered Jeremiah a formal audition, which he accepted, but you told Justin Lane and Piper Cox they didn’t make the cut.
DK: No. It’s not my place to deliver that sort of news.
SG: So how did they know?
DK: My assistant phones them and thanks them for auditioning.
SG: Can you tell me when those calls were made?
DK: (inaudible) Here it is. It looks like she left a message for each of them on Friday at 2:00 and 2:05 p.m. That would be West Coast time.
SG: Last Friday?
DK: Correct.
SG: Only a few hours before someone shot Jeremiah Schwartz.
DK: Doesn’t mean the two things are related.
SG: It doesn’t, but the timing indicates one could have precipitated the other.
DK: We can’t anticipate how contestants will respond. You see that, don’t you? I mean, if someone was upset and decided to run over Jeremiah with a car, that wouldn’t have been our fault. We can’t account for the twists and turns of human nature.
SG: Twists and turns.
DK: Hollywood isn’t all glamor. I’ve seen my share of the dark side of human nature.
SG: I imagine you have.
DK: Is there anything else I can do? I honestly would like to help.
SG: You could fax me the entire file you have on Jeremiah, Justin, and Piper.
DK: Of course. Your assistant left a fax number when she first contacted me.
SG: Thank you for your time, Ms. Kennedy. I’ll be in contact if we have additional questions.
Fifteen
Henry arranged for Stuart to pick him up Monday afternoon, and together they drove to Alamosa to wait on the bus that would deliver Ruth’s son and daughter-in-law. They would have spent nearly twenty-four hours on the bus, having boarded at noon the previous day, and Henry expected them to be quite tired.
“You were able to get your wife’s car.” Henry glanced behind him at the rows of seats. They should fit easily, even if some of Jeremiah’s siblings came.
“It’s a van, technically. I didn’t want to put your out-of-town visitors in the bed of the truck, so it seemed best.”
“Danki, Stuart.”
“Don’t mention it, Henry.”
Stuart and Henry went way back. Stuart had retired a few years earlier. Since he liked to read and didn’t mind waiting, shuttling the Amish had seemed like a perfect part-time job. He’d confessed to Henry that a few people took advantage of this, asking for rides they didn’t offer to pay for. Each time Stuart patiently explained that being an Amish taxi driver wasn’t a hobby but a way of supplementing his retirement income. The response to that had been good, though a few people had quit calling him. “Didn’t hurt my feelings a bit,” Stuart had said. “I am, after all, semiretired.”
The short of it was that Stuart adjusted to his part-time work/retirement, and the Amish community was grateful to have his services for any trips farther than a few miles.
“How’s retirement working out for you?” Henry asked.
“It’s easier than I thought it would be.” Stuart laughed. “I haven’t tired of reading, of course. And in my free time I work on our garden.”
“Ah. We’re being a good influence on you.”
“No doubt, and I’ve also started collecting records.”
“Records?”
“LPs, vinyl… ”
“Music?”
“Yes! Come on now, Henry. I know you’re Plain, but you don’t live in a bubble. Certainly you remember vinyl.”
A slight smile played across his lips, and Henry tapped a rhythm against the armrest. “When I was young, some of the girls bought a record player at a garage sale. Even then, some Plain people had generators. We’d plug the record player into the generator and enjoy the music, though it was forbidden, of course.”
“You were one of those wild Amish youth.”
“I remember Simon and Garfunkel, George Harrison, and even the Beatles.”
“Confessions of a bishop.”
“Indeed. I hadn’t thought of that in years.”
They were nearly to the bus station parking area when Stuart said, “I meant to tell you I’m sorry about the boy who was killed. Terrible thing to have happen.”
“Yes, it was terrible.”
“And this is his parents we’re picking up?”
“Ya.”
“Gosh, Henry. You have a tough job.”
“It’s not always like this. Remember last spring when we had the big wedding party arrive from Indiana?”
Stuart started laughing. “Kept me busy for three days. I was beginning to wish I had a bus to haul them all in.”
“We celebrate together and we mourn together. It’s what being in community means.”
They found a parking space where they could see the buses arriving and departing. Each bus had where it was coming from and where it was going displayed on a digital scroll bar across the front windshield. When the bus from Indiana pulled in, Henry hopped out of the van. Stuart had his book in his hand before Henry shut the door. An old man was on the front cover, and Henry saw the word Ove. Stuart’s reading tastes were broad. The week before it had been something about a girl on a train.
It had to have been at least fifteen years since Henry had seen Ruth’s son and daughter-in-law. Many families in the Monte Vista community resettled there from Goshen, so they shared a common history—cousins, weddings, funerals, births, and deaths. Henry vaguely remembered Gideon marrying Clara, and he could recall counseling Ruth’s husband, Leon, on more than one occasion when he was worried about the young family.
As the couple stepped off the bus, Henry carefully composed his features so his expression wouldn’t betray his thoughts. Gideon Schwartz couldn’t have been fifty years old, and yet he looked much older than Henry felt. His hair was completely gray, and a scowl pulled down the corners of his mouth, causing his beard to droop. He was tall and thin to the point of leanness. Clara, conversely, looked like the typical Amish grandmother—round and impeccably dressed, with her kapp carefully pinned to cover nearly all of her hair. Her face seemed to melt into relief when she spotted Henry. She was grasping an older suitcase by its handle, but she dropped it and began waving as soon as she saw him, as if afraid he might not notice them.
“Gideon and Clara, welcome to Monte Vista. I’m very sorry you had to come under such circumstances.”
“I can’t imagine coming here under any other circumstances.”
Which was when Henry remembered that Gideon hadn’t visited when his father had died. It wasn’t unheard of because travel was difficult when long distances were involved, and yet most children found a way to attend their parents’ funerals.
“Did any of your other children come?” He didn’t want to appear rude, but he didn’t want to leave anyone behind either.
“No. They wanted to, but they couldn’t.” Clara’s words sat between them for a moment.
Henry didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained silent. Often silence conveyed the sentiments of his heart when words couldn’t—or at least that’s what he hoped and prayed.
“We’re so glad to see you.” Clara clasped his hands, and Henry noticed the haggard look around her eyes—from lack of sleep and mourning and worry. “This is such a terrible time, but knowing you were here, that you were looking over o
ur son’s funeral, has been a real balm to my soul.”
Gideon grunted and said, “Don’t see your buggy.”
“It’s too far for that. I hired a driver.”
“A waste of money if you ask me.”
“Stuart’s rates are quite fair, and the distances between towns here in the valley are greater than in Goshen. We hire Englisch drivers when we need to go anywhere farther than Monte Vista.”
By this time they’d made it to Stuart’s van. Only Clara returned Stuart’s greeting as she continued to drag the suitcase. Gideon climbed into the back and scowled out the window. Clara sat next to him, attempting to pull the suitcase in behind her. Stuart was out of the van by then. He picked up the suitcase, tossed a questioning look at Henry, and slipped the bag into the back of the vehicle.
Henry sat in the front, buckled his seat belt, and then turned so he could speak with Gideon and Clara.
“We can stop for a bite of lunch if you’re hungry.”
“Didn’t come here to eat.”
Clara ignored her husband. “What would you like to do, Henry?”
He glanced at his watch. “If you’re not starving, I’d say let’s go on to Ruth’s. People have been delivering meals since Saturday, so she has quite a spread.”
“Everything’s set for the funeral?”
“Ya. Jeremiah’s body was delivered this morning. The visitation period will begin at nine tomorrow morning at Ruth’s, of course, followed by a brief service at Leroy’s place, and then a luncheon back at Ruth’s.” He knew Ruth had shared all of these details with Clara already, but it seemed to calm the woman to hear them again.
They rode in an uncomfortable silence for the next ten minutes. It was when they passed a Monte Vista police cruiser headed in the opposite direction that Henry thought to update them on the investigation. “Sheriff Grayson is in charge of the inquiry into Jeremiah’s death. He’s coming by this evening to update you on the latest developments.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Gideon said, still staring out the window. When Henry didn’t respond, he turned his gaze to him. Henry realized in that moment that Gideon had totally blocked himself off emotionally from what was happening. It wasn’t only that he hadn’t processed the manner and untimeliness of Jeremiah’s death, but he wasn’t even acknowledging on an emotional level that it had happened.
Who the Bishop Knows Page 7
