Who the Bishop Knows

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Who the Bishop Knows Page 8

by Vannetta Chapman


  “Not necessary at all.” And with that Gideon returned his gaze out toward the high desert valley they were driving through.

  Clara stared at her hands, but Henry noticed the tears slipping silently down her face.

  He resisted the urge to reprimand Gideon. Such a thing should be done privately if at all possible, and he’d rather not embarrass the man by doing so in front of his wife and an Englischer. No, best to wait. In the meantime, he’d pray that God would soften this man’s heart, that He’d minister to his hurting spirit, and that He’d bring the entire family closer together.

  Sixteen

  Several hours later, Emma, Ruth, and Clara sat in Ruth’s kitchen. Each woman clutched a cup of coffee, but no one was drinking.

  Jeremiah’s body had been laid out in the living room on a makeshift table. They had worked together to dress him in white clothing, as was their tradition. Clara wept through the entire process. Ruth told stories of things that Jeremiah had done since moving to Monte Vista, small things she hadn’t asked him to do and so had been surprised by them.

  Fixing the gate to the horse pasture. It had always hung crooked, and lately it had been difficult to open and close.

  Planting flowers around her mailbox, which was out by the main road.

  Filling her hummingbird feeder at least once a week.

  The coffin he was to be buried in was made from Colorado pine and handcrafted by Lewis Glick. Lewis had moved to their community a few years before. He’d finally married, a woman he’d been sending letters to for more than a year. Now he and Josephine were expecting their first child. Lewis wanted to give back to the community, and so he’d offered to provide the coffins when needed if someone else could supply the wood. It was a work of love, what he did, and Emma knew Clara had appreciated it as she’d run her hands tenderly over the soft wood. The scent of pine filled the house, offering a comforting reminder of the trees and nature and life—God’s abundance—that went on outside those four walls.

  Gideon had stood at the foot of the coffin, gazing down at his son. The look on his face was one Emma wouldn’t forget anytime soon. It was a combination of surprise and grief and anger. Those emotions seemed to war within him, until he finally turned and walked out of the house. That had been thirty minutes ago, and he still hadn’t returned. The sky outside was still light, though the clock said it was nearing seven in the evening. Days in the valley could be long, especially in July.

  Grayson had come and gone, leaving more questions than answers.

  Henry had left, promising to return early in the morning.

  Now everything was done except enduring the next twenty-four hours.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Ruth.” Clara let out a weary sigh. “Lloyd Yutzy’s mother asked that I inquire as to how he was doing.”

  “Lloyd?” Emma glanced at Ruth, who shook her head once.

  “Yes, Lloyd.” Clara glanced at Emma and then back at her mother-in-law. “He came… he came to watch Jeremiah in the rodeo. She thought… that is, we both assumed he would be staying with you, Mamm.”

  “Nein. I haven’t seen Lloyd. Haven’t seen him since my last visit to Goshen.” Ruth glanced at Emma. “Lloyd and Jeremiah went to school together. They were in the same grade. They were… friends, I guess.”

  “I know Lloyd. He’s staying with Chester and Mary Yoder. I saw Chester and Mary at the rodeo, though Lloyd wasn’t with them. I don’t even know why he came to Monte Vista. I suppose I thought they’d asked him to come help with the crops.”

  “His mother thinks he was just coming for the rodeo. She thought it a bit odd, but then you know how youngie can be… ” Clara’s words drifted off, dissolving in the air between them like the hopes she must have had for Jeremiah. Quietly she added, “Perhaps I misunderstood.”

  Silence once again permeated the room. Emma was okay with the quiet. It gave each of them time to order their thoughts.

  “I know he wasn’t perfect.” Clara began digging in her apron pocket for a tissue. “You both know that as well, I suspect, but Jeremiah had a good heart—a tender heart.”

  “None of us is perfect,” Emma pointed out.

  “And he was coming along.” Ruth shifted in her chair. “He really was. I saw a maturity in him the last few weeks. As far as what Sheriff Grayson said, about the Hollywood show, well, it’s just difficult to believe.”

  “Not really, Mamm.”

  Emma loved that Clara called Ruth her mother. She knew the two women exchanged letters quite often, more so since Clara’s own mother had died of cancer the year before.

  “Jeremiah had the ability to keep parts of his life separate,” Clara said. “I walked into the discount store in Goshen once. We were out of soap, shampoo—things like that—but when I walked in the door, Jeremiah was standing at the register, purchasing a small television. I have no idea where he took it, where he plugged it in, or what he planned to watch on the thing. But the look on his face when he saw me, and then looked at the television, and then back at me—it was almost confusion.”

  “I think I know what you mean,” Emma said. “I was a teacher before I married George. Only for a couple of years. When the children would see me in town, they’d look confused, like they couldn’t understand why I wasn’t in the schoolhouse.”

  “Exactly. I’d stepped into his world, and he seemed puzzled by that.”

  “I don’t doubt that what Grayson said is true. After all, they found proof of the airline tickets on Jeremiah’s phone.” Ruth sipped her cold coffee and grimaced. “But I’m not sure he’d have actually gone. So what if he had an airline ticket. That doesn’t mean he would have boarded the plane. Maybe he liked the idea of such a big change, but when it came down to it, I think he would have chosen to remain Plain.”

  They were quiet then, because they’d never know what Jeremiah would have decided. He’d never have that opportunity.

  Emma cleared her throat, needing to add something to the discussion. Needing to give Ruth and Clara some hope of resolution. “Grayson will find who did this. He’s a gut man and a fine investigator.”

  “Maybe so, Emma, but we both know that it was you and Henry who solved the last two murders.” Ruth stood and fetched the coffeepot to refill their mugs.

  “I don’t know that we solved them.”

  “You did. The police were looking the wrong direction both times.”

  “Mamm told me about the Monte Vista arsonist and Sophia’s murderer. Aren’t you all a little afraid to live here?”

  Emma waved that concern away. “’Course not. Monte Vista is as good a place to live as any. It’s peaceful, and the Englischers don’t put any obstacles in our path so we can live like we want to live. No nonsense about diapering horses or requiring a driver’s license to drive farm equipment. You can see for yourself that the land is beautiful.”

  “So you’re not… afraid?”

  “No. In both of those other instances, they were the killer’s personal vendetta, not a random act of violence. It isn’t as if we need to keep our children right at our side. Those people were not healthy—spiritually or physically. And perhaps we’ll find the same is true of the person who killed Jeremiah.”

  “It doesn’t seem real. I can’t… can’t quite grasp that he’s gone, that someone would wish him harm.”

  “If only Henry could… ” Ruth let the thought die away into the night. They all knew Henry couldn’t. He hadn’t seen a thing, and though he might be a superb observer of human nature, his gift was only useful if he witnessed something.

  This time, the Monte Vista police were on their own.

  Seventeen

  Transcript of interview between Monte Vista Sheriff Roy Grayson and Piper Cox, 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

  INTERVIEW WITH Piper Cox

  Case #4751.06

  7:30 p.m., Monday, July 30<
br />
  Sheriff Grayson (SG): Could you state your name for the recording?

  Piper Cox (PC): Piper Cox.

  SG: Middle name?

  PC: Aiyana.

  SG: And your address?

  PC: 1014 Desert Drive, Del Norte, but you already know that, since you sent your officer to fetch me.

  SG: Your birthdate is June 1, 1996?

  PC: Yes.

  SG: You were older than Jeremiah.

  PC: I guess.

  SG: Just to be clear, Ms. Cox, you’re not under arrest at this time.

  PC: Why would I be?

  SG: You’re free to leave or contact a lawyer at any point in this interview. We simply want to ask you some questions since you were friends with the deceased.

  PC: (inaudible)

  SG: I need you to verbally answer that you understand for the recording.

  PC: Yeah, I understand. Can I smoke in here?

  SG: No. Smoking isn’t allowed in the building.

  PC: Figures.

  SG: How would you characterize your relationship with Jeremiah Schwartz?

  PC: We were close.

  SG: In what way?

  PC: Jeremiah loved me.

  SG: And you returned those feelings?

  PC: Yes. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have gone out with him.

  SG: According to other witnesses, Jeremiah had a girlfriend named Naomi Miller. Do you know her?

  PC: I saw them together a few times.

  SG: Did that bother you? The fact that he was with another woman?

  PC: No.

  SG: Can you explain that to me?

  PC: He didn’t care about her, not like he cared about me.

  SG: Jeremiah told you this?

  PC: He did. More than once. He was going to break it off with her. He promised me he was going to do it soon, and I believed him. He was just waiting for the right time.

  SG: Did you know about his plans to travel to California?

  PC: Know about them? I was going with him. Jeremiah and I were going to start a new life there, a better life. Not like what we have here in this godforsaken desert.

  SG: So you knew about the television audition?

  PC: (inaudible)

  SG: I need you to answer verbally for the recording.

  PC: I knew about it. He showed me the airline ticket.

  SG: You were also interviewed for the show.

  PC: I guess.

  SG: Were you upset that you weren’t chosen?

  PC: No. I was still going to Los Angeles whether I was on that show or not.

  SG: You planned to go with Jeremiah when he flew out on August 6?

  PC: We didn’t have the money for another ticket, but Jeremiah was going to send me a ticket once he got paid by the show.

  SG: Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Jeremiah?

  PC: Could have been any of those rodeo guys.

  SG: Why do you say that? Were there problems between Jeremiah and the other competitors?

  PC: They were all jealous of one another, cutthroat even. Any one of them could have done it.

  SG: Anyone in particular?

  PC: Nah. I didn’t know their names.

  SG: Were you in the arena when Jeremiah was shot?

  PC: Yes. (inaudible)

  SG: We can stop if you’d like a glass of water or time to compose yourself. I know this is difficult.

  PC: I’d rather get it over with.

  SG: All right. So you were in the arena. Did you see anything suspicious, anything that caused you concern?

  PC: Only Jeremiah arguing with Justin.

  SG: Justin Lane?

  PC: I guess.

  SG: You guess? Or you’re sure? This is very important, Ms. Cox.

  PC: I’m sure it was Justin, and I’m sure they were arguing.

  SG: When was this, exactly?

  PC: About an hour before the rodeo started.

  SG: Did you hear what was said?

  PC: Only a little. Something about Kennedy choosing the wrong person.

  SG: Anything else?

  PC: I think maybe Jeremiah owed somebody money. I don’t know who, but he said not to worry about it. Said he’d square up as soon as he got his signing bonus from the television show.

  SG: Can you think of anyone else who would want to hurt Jeremiah?

  PC: Maybe some of the Amish kids.

  SG: Why do you say that?

  PC: The way they live. It’s not like you read in books or see in those stupid television shows.

  SG: Go on.

  PC: Some of the other Amish kids were giving him a hard time, especially the boys. One said he was an embarrassment to the community.

  SG: Do you know who specifically said that?

  PC: Nah, but I could tell it bothered him.

  SG: Did you ever use Jeremiah’s phone?

  PC: Why would I do that? I have my own.

  SG: Maybe you forgot yours, or maybe you picked it up when he left it lying around. Maybe you snooped a little.

  PC: (inaudible)

  SG: The reason I ask is that we’ve searched Jeremiah’s phone, and he’d deleted all of his history. Can you think of any reason he’d do that?

  PC: No.

  SG: Here’s the thing, Ms. Cox. Any information deleted from a phone isn’t really deleted. The provider still has a record of those calls, texts, even Internet usage, and now we have submitted a warrant to see what was deleted.

  PC: So?

  SG: So it’s going to take a little time. If there’s anything you could tell me about that phone, about who he called or what he did online, you’d help speed up the process, and we’d stand a better chance of catching the person who killed Jeremiah.

  PC: I caught him once scrolling through and deleting everything. I asked him about it.

  SG: And?

  PC: And he told me you never know who you can trust, and that it was better to be careful.

  SG: Is there anything else you’d like to add?

  PC: Only that when you catch the person who did this, the person who killed Jeremiah and our dreams, killed my chance of leaving this place… well, I hope they stay in jail for the rest of their life.

  SG: Thank you for coming in tonight.

  PC: Like I had a choice.

  SG: If you think of anything else, especially the names of any persons upset with Jeremiah, please call me, and I’ll be in touch if we have additional questions.

  Eighteen

  Henry couldn’t do anything else at Ruth’s, so he’d gone home, seen to his horse, fed his dog, and eaten a sandwich made from the widows’ bread and leftover deli meat. The funeral would be the next day, and he suspected it would be a difficult one. He intended to use the time this evening to relax, pray, and listen for God’s still, small voice.

  He carried his cup of coffee out to his front porch and watched the sun continue its westerly descent. The day was still thirty minutes away from darkness, and he enjoyed watching the birds swoop back and forth between the feeder he’d set up near his workshop and the flowers planted in his garden. He was thinking of the different types of sustenance for the birds, and how God provided for them in myriad ways, when he spied Grayson’s police vehicle turning down his lane.

  He waited as the sheriff parked the car, looked around as if he’d lost something, and then proceeded to the porch.

  “Why are you sitting out here?” Grayson asked as he walked up the steps.

  “Enjoying the sunset.”

  “You’re facing east.”

  “Enjoying the evening.”

  Grayson sat down in the rocking chair next to Henry, removed his officer’s hat, and balanced it on his knee. “Where’s that cur dog of yours?”

  “She’s a beagle… mostly.”

  “Usually meets me at the car.”

  “I have new neighbors, as I guess you’ve noticed, and Lexi has taken to sneaking through the fence to visit them. Apparently scraps are involved.”

  “You could fix the fe
nce.”

  “I’ve thought about it, but they like her.”

  Grayson set the rocker in motion, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. He didn’t seem inclined to jump into the reason for his visit.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No. I’ve had so much coffee I probably won’t sleep again until next week.”

  “Investigations are always difficult.”

  “That they are.” Grayson finally turned to glance at Henry. “This used to be a quiet town. Biggest thing I had to deal with was kids breaking into the liquor store, not even smart enough to pull the videotape. I’d talk to their parents, have them do some community service and pay for what they stole, and everyone was happy.”

  “Problem with Jeremiah’s case?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “It seems Jeremiah wasn’t who he appeared to be—or rather he was different things to different people.” When Henry didn’t interrupt him, Grayson continued. “To his grandmother, he was a hardworking young man headed back to the righteous path.”

  “Ruth cared about him deeply.”

  “To his father, he was a wayward son, and his mom seemed stunned about his other life.”

  Henry didn’t contradict him. The boy had been on the cusp of either turning back to a Plain life or leaping into an Englisch one.

  “Other life? I guess you mean the television show.”

  “Yes. That as well as his plans to go to California. Plus, there’s the fact that he had two girlfriends, which apparently Naomi didn’t know, though I’m not sure that’s so unusual at his age or with his generation.”

  Henry allowed all of that to sink in. “I appreciate your sharing this with me, but it’s a bit unusual. You’re normally quite closemouthed about ongoing investigations.”

  When Grayson gave him an offended look, Henry laughed. “Ya, you’ve shared details of an investigation before, but usually after you have it all wrapped up.”

  “With your help.”

  “Those times were different. You’re not here because you think I can—”

  “No. You explained that. I know you can’t draw anything to help us this time.”

 

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