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Who the Bishop Knows

Page 18

by Vannetta Chapman


  “And oats. Bring some buckets of oats.” Clyde and the boys took off at a jog.

  “We’ll catch them,” Emma said, and then she saw Rachel reach for the doorframe.

  “Ya. Ya, I know we will. It’s just… all of the horses? How did they all get out? They’re in two separate pastures. Even if the boys had left one gate open…”

  “Let’s figure out the how of it later.”

  Which seemed to be what Rachel needed to hear. She reached out, squeezed Emma’s hand, and then said, “I’ll get the oats.”

  “And I’ll fetch the lanterns.”

  They met in between the barn and the house and then rushed as fast as they could out to the two-lane road. It crossed Emma’s mind that maybe they should worry about the boys standing in the middle of the road, but they were in a valley. They could see a car coming from miles away—if it had its lights on.

  Emma handed a lantern to each boy. “Stephen, go to the south and stand in the middle of the road to warn off any approaching cars or buggies. Thomas, you stand near the entry to our place. The horses might see the light and come back toward you.”

  She could hear Clyde hollering and whooping, trying to scare the horses back their direction, but she couldn’t see him. The quarter moon didn’t provide enough light for that.

  “I’ll take one of the buckets.”

  Rachel kept the other, and they moved off in different directions. Emma took the right side of the road and moved closer to Clyde. Rachel took the left, and held back in case one of the horses sprinted past Emma.

  It was a fact of nature that horses ran when they were spooked. It was their best defense. The question was, what had frightened them? Because Emma didn’t believe for a minute that an open gate would have resulted in this chaos. The horses were well trained, well fed, and preferred the safety of home. Not to mention the boys were careful. They never would have left a gate open.

  Clyde continued to whoop and holler. He’d worked his way behind the horses, far down the lane, and Emma could hear him only sporadically. Looking back toward their place, she could see the boys’ lanterns, but she couldn’t see Rachel. Occasionally she heard a snort and the sound of hooves coming toward her in the darkness, but then they would shy away again.

  The first to turn was Big Boy, Clyde’s lead workhorse. He was eighteen hands high and weighed in at 1,700 pounds the last time Doc Berry had checked. Big Boy had a warm brown coat with an even darker mane and tail. Though he was the largest, he was also the gentlest. He stepped out of the darkness and toward Emma, tossing his head and stomping, but the look in his eyes? It seemed to her he was asking to go home.

  “Ya, come now, Big Boy. We have some gut oats for you.” Emma held the bucket out, and when she had his attention, she began to walk backward toward the house. Once she was sure he was following, she turned and faced the right direction. The last thing Clyde or Rachel needed was to tend to an old woman’s sprained ankle.

  She felt more than saw the rest of the workhorses following Big Boy. When she passed Rachel, Emma said, “Go help Clyde find the mares.”

  The buggy horses would be grouped together, probably a bit farther down the road since they were used to traveling away from the farm.

  Stephen held up a lantern and walked with her toward the pasture—the draft horses now following docilely in their wake.

  “What do you think happened?” Stephen asked.

  “Any chance you left the gate open?”

  “Nein.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “It was shut when we got there to do the nightly check, and I remember closing it behind me when we went inside the pasture to look for them.”

  “I don’t know what happened, then, but your dat will figure it out.”

  Which seemed to satisfy Stephen. He jogged ahead, opened the still-closed gate, and Big Boy led the team into the pasture. “Give them each some of the oats,” Emma said. “I’m going back out to help with the mares.”

  By the time she reached the front gate, Rachel was leading the mares in with her bucket of oats. Emma’s heart stopped for a minute when she saw only two of the buggy horses, but then she remembered that Silas and Katie Ann had taken Cinnamon.

  Within ten minutes the mares were safely in their pasture.

  “All present and accounted for,” Rachel said, collapsing onto the front porch.

  But Clyde still hadn’t returned after the boys had gone up to bed, and Emma was beginning to worry that something else was wrong when she spied him trudging toward the front porch. Rachel hurried inside, returning with a towel, a glass of water, and a plate of cookies.

  “Danki, but just the water.” He first took the towel and wiped the sweat off his face and neck.

  “You look as if something terrible has happened.” Rachel didn’t glance away, didn’t show any of the fear that had seized her earlier. She perched on the edge of a rocker, waiting for her husband to explain. Emma took the other rocker, grateful to sit after the evening they’d had.

  “Someone cut the fence.”

  “Are you sure?” Emma asked.

  “Ya. I’m sure. The new Englisch neighbor on the east side heard all the ruckus and came out to see if he could help. We were closer to his house than ours, so he went back for tools, and we were able to patch it back together. First thing Monday, I’ll repair it properly.”

  “Will it hold until Monday?” Rachel asked.

  “Ya. It will.” Clyde drained the glass of water and then sank onto the porch floor. “That’s not our problem. Our problem is figuring out why someone would cut our fences. Not just one, either. Whoever it was had to have cut the interior fence as well, since the mares and the workhorses escaped.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Emma said, but then, suddenly, she could.

  “There’s more. They didn’t just cut the fence. Whoever did this went into our pasture and spooked them. It’s the only explanation.”

  That sat between them for a while.

  Finally, Emma spoke what they were all thinking. “Is it him? Do you think it’s the person who killed Jeremiah?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t know why he’d be interested in us anyway. We barely knew Jeremiah.”

  “But we know Henry,” Rachel said. “Not only do we know Henry, but he’s about to be family.”

  “Henry didn’t see anything!” Emma felt a profound weariness creep into her bones. She didn’t want to be involved in another murder investigation. She didn’t want to deal with the danger and darkness. But neither would she leave Henry to fend for himself. If he was in danger, she would find a way to help him. They would find a way to help him.

  “They don’t know Henry doesn’t know anything.” Clyde leaned his head back against the porch post. Finally, he sat up straighter and tapped the floor of the porch as if he’d discovered some great truth. “They don’t know that, and I’m not sure they’d believe it if we told them.”

  “Which we can’t do because we don’t know who they are,” Rachel reasoned.

  “Exactly. My point is they’re in a panic, so they’re trying to frighten us.”

  “To what end?” A surging anger began to replace Emma’s weariness. It galled her that anyone would attack her family, would go after their animals—their livelihood. And for what? To cover their own sins?

  “Assuming it’s someone in the community… ”

  “It can’t be, Clyde. It just… It can’t be.” Rachel’s words were more a plea than a statement.

  “I didn’t say Plain community. I said community. Someone from Monte Vista. Someone who knows Emma and Henry are about to wed. Maybe they think you have an influence over him, that you can convince him to leave this thing alone.”

  “I’m not sure I can or that I should.”

  “Good.” And Clyde smiled for the first time since they’d learned the horses were loose. “Because when the deacons were with him yesterday, we all agreed he should try to draw what he can remember from that night. Though
he didn’t see the murder, he might have seen the murderer.”

  “Whoever killed Jeremiah didn’t walk through the crowd carrying his rifle,” Rachel argued.

  “That’s probably true, but you know how Henry can capture—”

  “Emotions.” Emma rubbed her fingertips across her forehead. “He can capture emotions.”

  “Right. More than an Englisch photograph. So it’s at least possible that he saw the person leaving, saw an expression of anger or panic or fear on this person’s face. Of course, he wouldn’t remember that he saw it. Not until he starts drawing.”

  “What’s he going to do?” Rachel stood now and crossed her arms, as if she could stand against this person intent on doing them harm. “Draw everything he saw? The entire evening?”

  “I’m not sure,” Clyde admitted. “We’ll have to pray that the Lord directs his efforts.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “Get some sleep. I think we all need to get some sleep. We’ll tell Henry about this before church in the morning and let him decide if the police need to know.”

  Though Emma was exhausted, she didn’t follow Clyde and Rachel inside. She’d sit in the rocker and enjoy the evening’s cooling. She’d wait until she saw Silas and Katie Ann return—until she was sure they were both fine. Though the person couldn’t be here and somewhere else at the same time. The person couldn’t be terrorizing them and threatening her grandchildren.

  Suddenly she was grateful the fence had been cut. Better than damage done to a buggy—a wheel loosened, a horse collar sabotaged, another buggy run off the road. A fence could be mended, and the horses were now safe.

  But what of Silas and Katie Ann?

  No, she wouldn’t sleep yet, and she wouldn’t share her concerns with Clyde and Rachel, either. They were dealing with enough. She’d sit and she’d pray, and while she was at it, she’d petition the Lord to direct Henry’s hands, his drawing, his special memory. Together she and Rachel and Clyde and the grandchildren and Henry would solve this thing.

  When they did, peace would once again return to the San Luis Valley.

  Thirty-Eight

  The charred remains of Vernon Frey’s home loomed up out of the darkness. Naomi could just make out a gaping hole in the side of the house that extended up through the roof. The windows had been blown out by the force of the fire. Vernon had died upstairs. The police arrested Sam Beiler for the murder, but in the end he was found innocent. Henry’s drawings had pointed them toward the real killer. All of that had occurred before Naomi moved to Monte Vista, but she’d heard the stories.

  The yard itself was filled with a bizarre collection of items—a discarded refrigerator, old car parts, some rusting farm equipment, bicycles without tires. The fact that no one had bothered to pilfer the stuff in the last two years was proof of its value.

  “Why has no one bought this place?” Naomi asked.

  Silas didn’t answer right away. He’d slowed Cinnamon to a walk, directing her around the piles of debris. “A lot of cleanup would be involved, and the property doesn’t have much land to go with it. The house would have to be completely razed and a new one built.”

  “In other words, too much work.”

  “And there are other, nicer properties to be had, so why bother?”

  “Why indeed.”

  “Where did you and Jeremiah—”

  “There’s a trail of sorts around to the back of the property. That’s… that’s where we’d go.”

  The clip-clop of Cinnamon’s hooves calmed the nerves in Naomi’s stomach, that and Silas’s presence beside her. Plus, Katie Ann and Albert were following close behind. When they’d finally circled around the house and reached the back area, Silas stopped, reached for her hand, and tugged her across the seat. She wanted to resist, to keep any feelings she might have for Silas Fisher at bay, but she found herself clasping his hand and moving closer.

  “Can’t believe Jeremiah brought you here,” he muttered.

  “It’s not so spooky in the daylight.”

  “Not a proper place for a date, though. I’d take you out to eat or to a movie.”

  “A movie?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked. Didn’t you and Katie Ann go to one last week?”

  That would be another problem with dating Silas, not that she was considering such a thing. But if she did, she’d be dating her best friend’s brother—which would be fine if the relationship worked out. She’d love to have Katie Ann for a sister-in-law, but it wouldn’t be so fine if they broke up. It would be awkward.

  More was on the line than her own feelings. She also had to consider her friendship with Katie Ann.

  “Any place in particular?” Albert asked. He’d pulled a flashlight from his buggy and was shining the beam around the abandoned play area. Weeds sprouted through the jungle gym. The seesaw’s board was cracked in places, and the handle on one end was missing. An old tire hung from a rope tossed over a branch on the largest of the surrounding trees, and to the left was the hidden grove she remembered so well.

  Katie Ann walked over to the swing and shone her light down into the tire. “Nothing here.”

  “No snakes?” Albert teased. “You know it’s a good place for them.”

  “I’m not afraid of a snake, but if you are, no worries. This tire is snake-free.”

  Silas tossed Naomi a look that said, See? They’re flirting.

  “I think if he’d hidden something, it would have been in there.” She pointed to the trees.

  “Huh?” Silas raised his eyebrows comically, causing some of the tension in her shoulders to ease.

  Instead of explaining, she reached for Katie Ann’s flashlight and said, “Follow me.”

  The way in wasn’t hard to find if you knew it was there. She moved to the right, pulled back some bushes, and her flashlight revealed a well-traveled trail into the center of the grove. Making their way inside, they found that the trees had created a kind of hidden spot. In the middle were some old tree stumps someone had pulled over and the remains of a campfire.

  “Wonder how Jeremiah discovered this,” Silas said.

  The area was plenty big enough for the four of them. In fact, it probably could have held a dozen. Looking up, Naomi could make out the sliver of moon as well as the stars. They sparkled through the canopy of leaves, creating a beautiful mosaic.

  “Doesn’t seem to be anywhere to hide money, though.” Albert turned in a circle. “You’re sure this is the place he was talking about? The place he said he could trust?”

  “Yes. He said it as we were leaving on Thursday. This has to be the place. If he hid the money, this is the only place that makes sense.”

  “And you can’t think of anywhere else?”

  “He was always insistent that we come here.” She bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed, but they’d come too far. There was too much on the line now. She swallowed her pride and regret and made herself continue. “He’d tell me to wait outside on the path. Said he wanted to check for snakes and such, wanted to make sure it was safe. Then, after a few minutes, he’d come back and declare the place safe. We’d laugh about that.”

  “So he brought you here, under the guise of a date.” Silas sat down on one of the tree trunks that formed a sort of stool. “He’d effectively throw anyone off his path. If they were following him, they probably wouldn’t keep following him once he picked you up.”

  Albert took up the story line. “He’d come here, tell you to wait, come in and hide the money, and then bring you in.”

  “If anyone was watching, they wouldn’t see anything suspicious.” Katie Ann pulled her kapp strings to the front. “And he did this every time?”

  “Ya. Practically. Every time I can think of.”

  “All right.” Silas played his flashlight around the area. “It must be here then. Let’s give it a good look.”

  They picked up each of the tree stumps, looked under the stump and checked the wood itself to see if something had been carved ins
ide. Albert walked the circle, the beam of his flashlight dancing up through the trees, looking for any type of bag or box or package Jeremiah might have hidden. Katie Ann patrolled the edge of the circle, looking for evidence of digging. Naomi sat and tried to think like Jeremiah might have.

  He’d obviously been worried. Why else would he have brought the money here?

  Worried enough to use their relationship as a ruse. Concerned enough to tell her this was the place he could trust. He must have been aware that someone wanted the stash he had, so maybe he had owed people, maybe he’d fallen into a dilemma he didn’t know how to get out of. His answer had been this place. His answer had been to use their relationship to keep himself and his money safe.

  At least she’d been able to help him in some small way.

  She stared at the charred remains of a fire, stared and tried to think of something, of anything that would help.

  Silas, Albert, and Katie Ann joined her.

  No one spoke, as if the quiet would spur her memories. But it didn’t.

  Finally, Silas said, “Too bad we don’t have any matches.”

  “Or marshmallows.” Albert laughed when Katie Ann gave him a pointed look. “I’m hungry. Dinner was a long time ago.”

  “Next time we’ll have s’mores—if we ever come here again.” Katie Ann stared up at the stars. “I’ll admit it’s a good place to get away. I bet no one would even know you’re in here.”

  “That’s it!” Naomi jumped up.

  “S’mores? That’s the answer?” Albert was still clutching his middle as if he were suddenly seized with hunger pains. “I can go back to town and buy—”

  “We never had a fire. We must have come here a dozen times, but we never once had a fire.”

  Katie Ann reached out and squeezed her arm. “Maybe he came here with someone else.”

  “I don’t think so. I know he was seeing that other girl, but I don’t think he brought her here. Somehow I think this was only our place. That he was trying to tell me if something happened to him to come here, and I think the one place he could have hidden anything was beneath the remains of that fire.”

 

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