by Nancy Mehl
“I wear a prayer covering on Sundays because it’s expected. But God isn’t honored by what we wear. He’s honored by our love for Him. Our obedience to Him because of that
love.”
“But all the women wear coverings except you,” I said. “Why? If it isn’t necessary, why do we do it?”
“Let’s get that cider, and I’ll try to answer your question. But you must remember something. The only person you should follow is God. Not me. All I can do is tell you what I believe. You have to decide what you believe for yourself.”
As I followed her into the kitchen, I couldn’t help thinking that I’d really rather have someone just tell me what to think and do. Papa always seemed to have the answers, so I didn’t have to make many decisions. Life was easier that way, but in my heart, I knew it wasn’t right.
“Sit down,” Lizzie said. “I’ll start heating the cider.”
I slipped into the wooden nook Noah had built into the corner of the kitchen. An oil lamp on the table added to the cozy feeling in the room, although most of the light came from another propane lamp mounted on the wall.
“Are you ready to talk about Mary?” I asked.
Lizzie shook her head. “Not yet. If you don’t mind, let’s discuss her later. Honestly, right now I’d rather concentrate on Noah . . . and you. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” I was being completely honest. My mind was so full of thoughts, I felt that if I tried to put one more thing in it, it might explode.
The storm outside wailed in the dark. Sometimes the sound reminded me of a child crying. Sitting in Lizzie’s house, I felt safe and secure. As if nothing bad could possibly get in. Somewhere out there a killer sat, probably hearing the same storm. Was he planning his next evil deed? The thought gave me chills, and not the kind caused by the cold.
I decided to bring up a question I’d been waiting to ask. “Lizzie, did you and Noah stop by the church the night of the storm?” I tried to sound casual. The last thing I wanted was to alert Lizzie to the fact that I was trying to worm information out of her.
“Yes, but Levi was having a counseling session.” She sighed. “We told him about the storm, and that he needed to get home, but obviously he didn’t listen.”
“Yes, Aaron Metcalf was still there when I arrived,” I said.
Lizzie was busy pouring cider into a pan, which she set on the stove. The flame under the burner made a whooshing sound when she turned it on.
“Aaron Metcalf?” She shook her head. “He wasn’t there when we stopped by. Levi was with Margaret Harper.”
Margaret’s presence wasn’t a surprise. I already knew she saw Levi frequently. Not so much for counseling, but to get help from the church. I was pretty certain the frail woman wasn’t a serial killer.
“I wonder who else he saw that night. Maybe they took so long that Aaron’s appointment got pushed back.”
Lizzie snorted. “That’s entirely possible. John Lapp was leaving as we pulled up. You know how self-centered he is.”
“John Lapp?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. “Why in the world would he go to Levi for counseling if he thinks he doesn’t qualify to be our pastor? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I have no idea. I was as shocked as you are. Maybe it had something to do with Frances’s death.”
“Maybe.” John Lapp? What was it the sheriff said? To be on the lookout for someone who had experienced a change in their life? “Lizzie, weren’t John and Frances married about twenty years?”
Lizzie turned to look at me. “Not quite twenty years, I think. Not too many people know this, but my mother told me John was married when he was younger. His wife died tragically.”
I felt my heart race. “I’d never heard that. Do you know how she died?”
“Mother told me, but I’m not sure I remember. Seems like it was some kind of accident or something.” She frowned at me. “Why?”
I took a deep breath. “Lizzie, remember what the sheriff said? To look for someone whose life has changed in some way? Someone who starts acting oddly?”
After staring at me a moment, Lizzie burst out laughing. “You think old John Lapp is a serial killer? Oh, Callie. Really.”
I bristled at her attitude. “Look, the killer murdered women twenty years ago. Right about the time John gets married to Frances, the killings stopped. Then Frances dies, and the murders start again. Isn’t this exactly what Sheriff Timmons was talking about?”
Lizzie turned around and took the cider off the burner. She was quiet for a moment. “But he isn’t acting any differently.”
“Yes, he is. He didn’t oppose Levi’s election at the time of his appointment. Now, suddenly, he tries to start a campaign against him.”
“Well, maybe. . . but I don’t think John Lapp could kill anyone. That man’s blood is pure Mennonite. You know how we feel about violence.”
“Then what about Aaron?” I said. “You know there’s some kind of secret from his past that the elders won’t reveal. Don’t you find that suspicious? And Aaron isn’t old. He could certainly kill a woman.”
“For crying out loud, Callie. First of all, Aaron isn’t old enough to have killed anyone twenty years ago.”
“I know that,” I snapped. “But he could be copying the murders. We don’t know what his secret is, Lizzie. Maybe he killed someone else.”
Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “Aaron moved here from Iowa. He couldn’t have heard something about a serial killer in Kansas that wasn’t even considered a serial killer until recently.” She took a deep breath. “Besides, his secret has nothing to do with murder.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise. “You know what it is? How could you?”
She grinned. “Let’s just say that running a restaurant affords me lots of chances to overhear things.”
“I don’t know if you should repeat . . .”
She looked around the corner, making sure Noah was still asleep. After checking, she leaned in close to me. “I can’t have you thinking poor Aaron is a crazed murderer. The truth is, he’s divorced.”
“Divorced? Is that all?”
Lizzie straightened up. “In our church, that’s pretty major. His wife left him for another man. When he came here, he wanted to start fresh. That’s why he went to the elders and told them. Even Noah and Levi don’t know. I overheard Elder Wittsman talking about it to Elder Scheer. They didn’t realize I was standing behind them at the time.”
I frowned as I considered this information. “Doesn’t mean he isn’t a murderer,” I said softly.
“Oh, for crying out loud. Why are you—” Lizzie poured the cider into two mugs, picked them up, and carried them to the table. She sat down and eyed me suspiciously. “Wait a minute. First you try to find out who Levi met with last night, and now you think Aaron or John might be a murderer. Why? Did Levi tell you something that made you suspicious of them?”
“Oh, Lizzie.” I tried to say more, but I choked up.
“Callie, what’s wrong?” She reached across the table and took my hand. “You can tell me, honey. What’s going on?”
I fought to gain control of myself, but it took a few seconds. Finally, I said, “If . . . if I tell you, will you keep it between us? Levi would be so upset if he knew I said something.”
“Whatever you say will stay between us. You know that.”
I nodded. There was no one in my life I trusted more than Lizzie. I cleared my throat, still unsure about revealing something Levi had told me in confidence. What if he found out? Would he ever trust me again? My concern for the safety of other women who might be in danger made me decide to confide in Lizzie.
“Lizzie,” I said slowly, “I believe Levi knows who the serial killer is.”
Lizzie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. “Callie! Are you serious?”
I wiped the tears off my face with the back of my hand. “He told me that himself.”
She turned her head sideways and looked at me suspiciously
. “Exactly what did he tell you?”
I tried hard to think back on our conversation. “He was upset after his counseling session yesterday. I asked him if it had anything to do with the murders.”
“And what did he say?”
“He didn’t deny it.”
Lizzie let go of my hand and sank back into her chair. “He didn’t deny it? Oh, Callie. That doesn’t mean he knows who the killer is. Maybe he just didn’t want to say anything else about his sessions. You know what’s said in counseling is—”
“Confidential,” I said with a big sigh. “I’ve heard that enough lately, thank you.”
“What in the world makes you think he’s keeping something secret that would help the investigation?”
“It’s just . . .” I could feel irritation replace worry. “Look, Lizzie. You weren’t there. I could tell he was concerned about the murders. He heard something that’s connected to them in some way. You’ll just have to trust me.”
Lizzie looked unconvinced. “Did you ask him directly if that was true?”
“I . . . I think so.” Had I? I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d said.
“And how did Levi respond?”
Levi’s voice drifted into my mind, and I suddenly felt foolish. “He said that if he knew something that would stop the murders, he’d go to the sheriff.”
Lizzie shook her head. “Callie, I love you to pieces, but you’ve blown this way out of proportion. Turned it into something it isn’t.” She picked up her cup and stared at me. I looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes. “You’re going to have to learn to trust Levi, or your marriage has no hope. You know that, right?”
“But I know it has something to do with these killings.”
Lizzie sighed. “And how do you know that?”
“Like I said, he didn’t deny it.”
Lizzie took a sip of her cider and then put the cup down on the table. “Callie, has it occurred to you that it could be something besides a confession of murder?”
“Like what, Lizzie? What else could someone possibly say that’s connected to these killings? Something that upset Levi so much? I can’t think of a thing.”
“What if one of these people voiced their own suspicions as to who the killer might be? Someone who couldn’t have possibly done it? Or what if someone saw the body earlier and didn’t report it? Or what if someone knew something about Levi’s book? Or what if—”
I held my hand up to stop her. “That’s enough. You’re right.” Relief flowed through me for the first time since Levi mentioned his disturbing counseling session. There were other reasons for his reaction. “I guess I did jump to conclusions. But Levi didn’t do or say anything to make me think otherwise.”
Lizzie chuckled softly. “Maybe he didn’t think he had to. I imagine he asked you to trust him.”
“Okay, okay. Obviously I’m wrong.” I pushed my cup toward her. “Can I have more cider, even though I’m a terrible human being? It’s delicious.”
Lizzie laughed as she took my cup and stood up. “You’re not a terrible human being, sweetie. You’re a woman who cares about right and wrong. Maybe a little too much. Sometimes you have to let others decide what’s right for them. Levi would never allow anyone to be put in danger if he could stop it. You should know that.”
I watched Lizzie as she filled my cup. “Yes, I should. Then why did I automatically jump to the wrong conclusion?”
She shrugged and walked back to the table. The wind screamed again, rattling the windows. “Just because you were wrong about Levi doesn’t mean you should close your eyes to everything that’s happening. We all need to be on alert. Maybe the killer’s not Aaron or John, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t consider other possibilities.”
“I’ve been thinking about what the sheriff said and trying to come up with someone else who might be acting oddly or has something to hide. I guess my mind is just running wild, but I still say John qualifies.”
“Maybe you should suspect yourself,” Lizzie said wryly. “Because you’re the one who’s been acting weird.”
“Very funny.”
Lizzie sipped her cider and studied me.
“You forgot the cookies,” I said, trying to ignore her.
She got up without saying anything and took some cookies out of the cookie jar. After putting them on a plate, she brought them over and set them down on the table. When I reached for one, the pain almost made me gasp. Determined not to let Lizzie know how much I was hurting, I kept quiet. She would worry and try to take care of me. I felt certain I’d start feeling better before long.
“Please be careful, Callie. You don’t want to accuse someone falsely of something like murder.” She took a sip of her cider before saying, “And you definitely don’t want to betray Levi’s trust. If you have concerns, take them to him. No one else.”
“Thanks, Lizzie. I know you’re right. I’m so glad I had the chance to talk to you.”
Another huge blast of wind shook the house. Lizzie got up again and looked out the window. “This storm is getting worse.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe Mary is dead. Poor Roger. I never liked him much, but I sure feel sorry for him.”
“You warned me to do the right thing and not cast aspersions toward other people, but you’re still holding a grudge against Roger for the way he treated us in school all those years ago.”
Roger had been a bully when we were in grade school, calling the kids from Kingdom names and making our lives miserable. When Mary left Kingdom and ended up marrying Roger, everyone was shocked. But Roger was a different person now and had not only been a wonderful husband to Mary, he’d also shown nothing but friendship to the residents of Kingdom.
“Funny that you brought up our childhoods, Callie,” Lizzie said softly. “Because that’s exactly what I want to talk to you about—if we’re past the serial-killer discussion.”
I immediately felt a wall go up. Was Lizzie going to say something unkind about my father again?
“Look, Callie,” she said as she sat down again, “I can’t put off discussing something with you. Something you don’t seem to want to talk about.” She stared into her cup and cleared her throat. “You’re getting ready to get married. I’m afraid . . .”
The look on her face made my heart sink.
“I’m afraid if you don’t deal with some things now, before the wedding, they’ll pop up later and will affect your marriage.” She hesitated for a moment. Then she took a deep breath. “Do you know why you got so angry with Elmer Wittenbauer?”
“Because of the way he treats Ruby.” My voice rose out of frustration.
“It’s more than that, Callie. You identify with Ruby. Why do you suppose that is?”
“I don’t know what you mean. If this is about Papa . . .”
She shook her head vigorously. “Callie, it’s not just your father. It’s about you.” She paused again as if gathering her thoughts. “I’ve known you since we were children. Maybe I was gone for five years of your life, but I still know a lot about you.”
“Just what is it you think you know?”
She took a sip of her cider, put the cup down, and sighed. “Well, I know that your life was shattered when your mother left. And your father made you feel unwanted and unloved. I believe that was the point when you started hiding your true feelings. You became the dutiful daughter. The faithful friend. The young woman who unconsciously created a kind of shield around herself so she wouldn’t feel pain. The problem is, you’ve done such a good job, you don’t feel much of anything anymore. Not when it comes to yourself. That protection is costing you a lot, Callie.”
She gazed at me solemnly. “Sweetie, you can’t spend your life stuffing your emotions into a closet. One day that closet will burst open, and the result won’t be good. I saw this more than once when I worked with abused women at the shelter. Not facing the truth can cause all kinds of problems. It can actually ruin your ability to trust anyone. Ever.”
&nbs
p; I wanted to stop her. To tell her to be quiet, but it was as if my mouth had frozen shut and wouldn’t open. Why couldn’t I talk? Why couldn’t I defend myself?
“You’re a sweet little Mennonite woman because that’s who you think you’re supposed to be. But it isn’t real. It isn’t you.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Don’t get me wrong, Callie. If that’s who you want to be, that’s great. The problem is that you’ve never made a decision about who you are or what you believe. You’ve just followed the path your mother and father laid out. And that’s not right.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said finally. “I’m exactly who I want to be.” I realized with a start that I’d said those words while dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. My right hand instinctively reached up to touch my head.
“No, you’re not wearing a prayer covering, Callie. And you know what? You’re still the same person. Head covered or uncovered.”
“But the Bible says—”
“The Bible says we’re free. Free from the laws of man.” She smiled. “If you want to wear a prayer covering, that’s great. It’s not much different from women in the world who wear cross necklaces. They do it as a reminder of the love they have for God. To honor Him. But don’t turn an old tradition into a new law. Just because women in the early church covered their heads doesn’t mean it’s important now. And besides, even if you want to make that Scripture into more than it is, it does say in church. It doesn’t say all the time.”
“Is that why you wear your prayer covering only in church?”
Lizzie shrugged. “No, not really. I don’t believe God cares if I wear it there either, but I do it out of deference to those who would be offended if I didn’t. I don’t have to, but I want to. Out of love for my brothers and sisters in Christ.” She frowned at me. “And that’s the point, Callie. I make a choice. I don’t just follow what my father wants.”
“You think that’s what I’m doing?”
She squeezed my hand. “Yes. I think that’s exactly what you’re doing. Look, honey, I don’t care if you decide to wear your prayer covering in the shower and in bed. That’s not the point. The point is, I think it’s time Callie Hoffman found out the answer to a very simple question: Who are you?”