Who the Bishop Knows

by Vannetta Chapman

  He stared at the ground, as if he might find the answers to his dilemma there. “I didn’t owe as much as you, Mahlon… only two hundred, but it was all I had. Now I’m starting over. Most of the money we earn goes into the family pot. You all know how it is. Oh, and I settled up with Jeremiah the day before the rodeo started.”

  Naomi added Nathan’s information below Mahlon’s.

  Perhaps because it was his father’s barn, Jesse stood and walked up to stand next to Silas.

  “I was the biggest fool of the three of us—owed Jeremiah nearly eight hundred dollars, and I paid it all when I went by to see him on Thursday night. Saw him put it into his wallet, and I don’t understand why it wasn’t there when the sheriff searched his things. What could he have done with that much money that quickly? Didn’t appear to me that he spent it on anything.”

  Naomi thought of the Jeremiah she had known versus the person who was coming to light now that he had passed. She was surprised when she heard the sound of her own voice. She hadn’t expected to say what she was thinking. “Jeremiah was good at hiding things. By now you all have heard of the television show Boots, Buckles, and Broncos. I never actually thought he’d go through with moving to Hollywood. I had no idea he was involved in this gambling enterprise. So the money… well, I guess there’s no telling where it is.”

  Katie Ann reached over and squeezed her hand, and when Naomi looked up, Silas was watching her intently, encouraging her with his eyes.

  “All I’m saying is that you three shouldn’t feel embarrassed about what you did. Jeremiah was good at talking, at convincing people of things. He fooled a lot of people, myself included.”

  The group was silent for a moment, and then Katie Ann hopped up and began pacing back and forth behind the wooden crate she’d been sitting on. “What about the Englischers? I don’t know many by name. Is anyone aware of specific people who owed him money?”

  Mahlon scratched at his jaw. “Jeremiah once told me several of the Englischers owed him over a thousand each. Said they weren’t too good at making their bets, so it was an excellent opportunity for him.”

  “Any names?” Silas asked.

  “Todd somebody.”

  “And a Roger Clemore.” This came from Albert. “I remember him throwing that name around as if I should remember it, but it meant nothing to me. Jeremiah showed up at planting time, and by then I was pretty preoccupied with putting in my crops. Didn’t really have time to talk to him.”

  “He stopped by your place?” Katie Ann asked. “To ask you to gamble?”

  “Ya. The way he put it, I’d be investing my money, but you all know I have very little of that hanging around. I told him no thanks and sent him on his way. It’s not that I was any smarter than you who did invest with him. I was just a little strapped for cash, which I guess turned out to be a good thing.”

  A girl Naomi didn’t know well spoke up. She looked a year or two older than Naomi, and even in the dim light Naomi could tell she was wearing a little makeup. Who was that for? One of the boys among them? Naomi had heard rumors she was fully enjoying her rumspringa and thought she stepped out with Englischers more than Amish.

  “A few of the boys I went out with—”

  “Englischers?” Silas asked.

  “Ya. They would ask me about Jeremiah. Seems he had quite a reputation among them, and I wouldn’t doubt at all that one of them killed him and took all the money.”

  “Anything specific to add to that?” Silas asked, again glancing at Naomi and smiling weakly, before he turned his attention back to the first girl and attempted to look serious.

  “Let’s see. I heard someone say he’d better be good for it, whatever that means.”

  Jesse Kauffmann looked surprised. “Means he’d better have the money to cover the bets placed with him if the person betting won. As far as I know, that was never an issue. The few times I won, he paid quickly enough, which might be why I was so willing to risk more.”

  “Anything else?” Silas asked.

  “Only that, as I guess you all know, Jeremiah was dating more than one girl.” She tossed a look at Naomi. “No offense, but he was stepping out with an Englischer too. Some girl named Piper.”

  Naomi shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but it did. The knot in her stomach tightened, and she knew her embarrassment must have shown on her face.

  “It’s not such a big deal,” the other girl added. “Englischers date more than one person at a time. Unless you’ve agreed to be exclusive, there’s no harm in it.”

  “There’s harm in the fact that Naomi didn’t know.” Silas put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, and then he allowed his gaze to travel around the circle. “And I know you all think I was doing the same thing, but every girl I stepped out with knew I was also seeing others. At least I thought they knew, which is still a very poor excuse.”

  A couple of girls across from Naomi put their heads together and said something, but she couldn’t hear what.

  “I know two other names I don’t think Naomi has down yet—two Englischers.” Nathan Kline walked over to a calendar tacked to the wall in Leroy’s work area. “Saw the three of them in a booth at the diner, heads together, thick as thieves.”

  “Names?” Naomi asked.

  “Justin Lane and Daisy Marshall. They’re a couple, I think. And that’s not all. The three of them began to argue after a few minutes. I was about halfway through my burger when their conversation became somewhat heated. Justin said something to the effect that Jeremiah would live to regret… I couldn’t hear what. He stormed out, and then Daisy told Jeremiah not to mess with Justin because he could be mean. I heard that clearly enough.”

  “What was Jeremiah’s reaction?”

  “Unperturbed. Jeremiah didn’t seem to think anything or anyone could touch him. Maybe that was his biggest mistake.”

  When no one else offered any additional information, Silas called the meeting to a close. “We’ll meet here again in a week, same time. If you think of anything before then, let me or Naomi know. Meanwhile, we’ll take what we have to Henry, and he can decide what’s important enough to share with the police.”

  No one seemed to want to leave, though. It was better to sit in the barn, put the matter of Jeremiah behind them, and pretend it was any other Saturday night.

  Someone pulled out a transistor radio and tuned it to a local country music station.

  A cooler appeared, filled with soft drinks, bottled water, and a few beers.

  Katie Ann took off to check on the mare she’d been watching, and everyone else wandered into smaller groups of twos and threes.

  Naomi didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to join the other girls—or the boys, for that matter. She tucked her notepad and pen into her backpack, tugged it over her shoulder, and stepped out into the evening.

  Thirty-Four

  Naomi walked out to the pasture fence, crossed her arms across the top rail, and watched the sun set over the San Juan Mountains. A dazzling display of colors swept across the desert floor even as the first of the evening stars began to appear. It was a beautiful sight—majestic and humbling all at the same time. She was thinking of that, of the way something so simple could be made so beautiful, when Silas stepped up beside her.

  He didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there beside her, mirroring her pose, standing close enough to make her pulse jump but not so close as to make her uncomfortable.

  When the sunset’s grandeur had passed and darkness had settled enough that she could only see the outline of him, Naomi turned toward her best friend’s brother. She did her best to give him a schoolmarm look, a what are you doing look.

  “What?” he asked, widening his eyes—no doubt trying to look innocent.

  She only shook her head.

  “Can’t a guy come out and stand beside a pretty girl to watch the sun go down?”

  “Really? That’s the line you’re going to use?” She laughed, bumped his shoulde
r with hers, and turned her attention back to the creeping darkness.

  For a moment she thought he wouldn’t say anything else, but finally he sighed deeply and began talking. “You think I’m just out here to pick you up.”

  “Pick me up?”

  “Flirt with you.”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  “You think you’re just the next girl on my list.”

  “You have a list?”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “And I never said—”

  “I have a reputation now, and I suppose I deserve it.”

  “That’s a start, I guess.” She aimed to keep her tone light. It wasn’t her place to judge Silas Fisher, but she would do well to remember his history of tossing girls aside after a couple of weeks—or less.

  “I’m aiming to change my ways. Honest I am. My dat convinced me that what I was doing… playing the field or whatever… that it wasn’t right.”

  “But?”

  “But then lines like that about you being a pretty girl just come out of my mouth. You are a pretty girl. Don’t get me wrong, but when I say it, I realize I’m acting like I did before. The only difference is that I feel bad about it now, about saying such foolish things.”

  “Well, maybe you can’t help that you’re a smooth-talking guy.”

  “Did it sound smooth?”

  “Maybe you should be a poet or write romance books.”

  Silas’s laughter was deep and rich. “An Amish man who is a romance writer?”

  “It could happen.”

  “And Leroy Kauffmann could find gold in that pasture, but I doubt he will.”

  “So what are you doing out here, Silas? Other than trying to sweet-talk me?”

  “I was worried about you, is all. That couldn’t have been easy on you back there, listening to folks talk about Jeremiah.”

  “I guess.”

  “You two were… close?”

  “Not as close as you might expect.” She thought about telling him that she was about to have the let’s be friends talk with Jeremiah, or maybe he was about to have that talk with her. Now they’d never know, but admitting it aloud felt disloyal. So instead she said, “I guess we’d grown apart.”

  “Now, that sounds like a line in one of my mamm’s books.”

  “Do you think we did any good tonight?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Seems that the field of suspects is widening, when what we need to do is narrow it down.”

  “Where do you think the money is?” Naomi shifted from foot to foot.

  “Maybe he hid it.”

  “Where?”

  “Maybe he had a bank account or a safety-deposit box.”

  “His mammi hasn’t found a key to one. I stopped by to see her today. She didn’t find anything of surprise when she cleaned his room.” She hesitated before adding, “Maybe he owed it to someone. Maybe he gave it to someone.”

  “Too many possibilities.”

  “Ya.”

  Naomi thought they were done, so she turned to go back into the barn to find Katie Ann. Silas reached out and touched her arm.

  “I had another reason for coming out here, other than to see how you were doing. I also wanted to tell you to be careful.”

  “Be careful?”

  “Whoever killed Jeremiah… well, if that person is still around, they might want to tie up some loose ends.”

  “You think I’m a loose end?”

  “I don’t know, but I think you knew him better than most.”

  “I’m realizing I barely knew him at all.”

  “If this person is trying to cover his tracks, he might think getting rid of you would do it.”

  “Getting rid of me?”

  “Repeating what I say won’t change anything.”

  Naomi smiled up at Silas, who had stepped closer, and then she realized it was dark and he couldn’t see her smiling. He didn’t know if she was terrified or teasing. “Don’t worry so much. I don’t think anyone’s after me. If they were, there’s been plenty of time in the last week to take me down.”

  “Don’t say such things.”

  “You brought it up!”

  “True.”

  He reached out and ran his fingers down her cheek. She thought he might kiss her, and her pulse quickened as her breath caught in her throat, but instead he linked his arm with hers and turned them back toward the barn. “Come on. Let’s go listen to some music.”

  “Englisch music.”

  “It’s not forbidden, not now during… ”

  “Our rumspringa? Is that what you were about to say?”

  “Ya, I guess I was.”

  “So you’re still trying out Englisch ways, testing the waters, getting into mischief… ”

  “That’s a lot of words.”

  “I’m a writer.”

  “So I heard.”

  “You heard?”

  “Okay, I read your piece in the Budget every month. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  They’d stopped outside the barn door, and Silas had moved closer. She sensed him in the dark, leaning toward her, and it occurred to her again that he was going to kiss her. Did she want him to kiss her? Before she could decide, his lips met hers.

  Tingles shot down her spine.

  Tiny lights exploded behind her tightly closed eyes.

  Sweat slicked her palms.

  She relaxed, maybe for the first time since the shot that killed Jeremiah rang out. She stopped worrying, stopped thinking, and let go of the urge to do something.

  It was just her, a nice boy, and a kiss like she’d read about in the Englisch romance novels.

  Then a cow lowed in the distance, pulling her back to her senses. A relationship with notorious playboy Silas Fisher was not what she needed. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he hadn’t, but she wouldn’t be the one who would find out. She had enough going on in her life at the moment. So she put her hands against his chest and took a step back. “Slow down, cowboy.”

  “Slow down?”

  And then it happened. The puzzle pieces clicked into place.

  She stepped back from Silas, pressed her fingertips to her lips, and turned in a circle.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I just remembered… ”

  “What?”

  “I just remembered… Oh my goodness!” She clutched Silas’s arm. “We have to tell someone. We have to do something.”

  “Now who’s the one who needs to slow down?” He ran a hand up and down her arm, which didn’t help her to focus one bit.

  “You don’t understand. Jeremiah… he told me.”

  “Told you what?”

  “Where to look. I think I know where he stashed the money.”

  Thirty-Five

  Henry wasn’t aware of the setting sun or the little dog who lay at his feet, eyeing him occasionally. He didn’t realize he’d skipped dinner. He wasn’t conscious of the fact that the evening was cooling or that the solar light on the outside of his workshop had come on.

  Then Lexi jumped to her feet, and a shadow passed over the sheet of paper he was drawing on.

  He glanced up to find Seth Hoschstetler standing in the doorway of his workshop, his head cocked to the side and a look of concern on his face.

  “Seth. I didn’t hear you walk up.”

  “Ya. That much is obvious.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Only that we were worried about you.”

  “Worried?”

  “Roseann and I. Because you didn’t show up for dinner.”

  Henry leaned his head back and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I forgot. Totally forgot. I’m so sorry. I’ve been preoccupied…”

  The words slid away as he realized Seth was looking around in amazement, looking at the pieces of paper that littered his desk. He stepped closer and peered down at a drawing that showed the mass of people exiting the rodeo in a panic, minutes after the shooting.

  “You dr
ew these?”

  “Yes.”

  Henry didn’t defend himself.

  He’d told both Seth and Roseann about his ability to draw before they’d moved to Monte Vista. He’d explained how he could render in elaborate detail anything he’d seen, how the way his memory worked had changed so many years ago when he was a lad and had been hit by a baseball.

  He’d told them all of it before they’d joined the community.

  He told all potential members.

  While the Monte Vista community of Plain folk had all accepted his strange talent, Henry was aware many in other communities wouldn’t—people who shared the opinion of Jeremiah’s dad, though few would go so far as to call what he did sorcery. Still, Henry allowed for each person to be convicted by God’s Spirit in their own way, and he didn’t hold it against anyone who was uncomfortable with his ability.

  Seth was aware of what Henry could do, but knowing something and witnessing it were two different things.

  “Have a look,” he said, gesturing to the haphazard pile of drawings.

  “You drew all of these from memory?”

  “I did.”

  Seth picked up one sheet after another—each depicting a different scene from the rodeo. He carefully studied each one and then set it neatly in a pile. Henry hadn’t realized until that moment how long he’d been at it. He was suddenly aware that his hand ached, the muscles in his shoulders felt tight, and he was terribly hungry.

  “How long did this take you? How many days have you been working on these?”

  “Not days. Hours. I started late this morning.”

  Seth squared up the sheets and looked his bishop straight in the eye. “It’s amazing, Henry. It’s a wunderbaar thing you can do. A real gift from Gotte.”

  A wave of relief crashed over Henry. He didn’t need man’s approval, didn’t actively seek it, but it helped when those in his congregation embraced him fully despite his unusual ability.

  “Danki,” he said simply. Then his stomach rumbled.

  “Would you like to go to the house with me? I hadn’t realized it was dinnertime, and Lexi… well, I haven’t fed her yet.”