When the Bishop Needs an Alibi

by Vannetta Chapman

  “I can’t.”

  “All right.”

  “You’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you want to or need to,” Emma assured her. “And there’s a community ministerial council that will be happy to find you a place to live when you’re ready.”

  “I won’t be staying.”

  Henry glanced at Emma, who shrugged.

  He decided to try a different tack. “You’ve been working at the diner several weeks now.”

  “Five. I’ve been there five weeks.”

  “Do you like the job?”

  “No. What I did—” She glanced down at her hands. “What I did before was on a computer. Easier work by far. The first week at Maggie’s, my hands and arms actually cramped at night from carrying heavy trays of food, and my legs…I had no idea standing for eight hours could be so exhausting.”

  “Why did you take a waitressing job?” Emma asked.

  “I needed something. For the time I’m here.” She took another deep drink of her tea. A shudder passed over her, and Henry thought she looked as if she might weep. He waited. Eventually, the warm drink and the quiet surroundings calmed her, strengthened her somehow. She drew back her shoulders, sat up straighter, and pulled in a deep breath.

  “I appreciate your help. Both of you have been very kind. And obviously, it wouldn’t be wise for me to sleep outside tonight. The change in weather took me by surprise.”

  Henry didn’t interrupt. She seemed about to reveal something, but if she had been, she changed her mind abruptly.

  “I can’t involve you in this, though.”

  “Perhaps we could help,” Emma suggested.

  “No. It would be dangerous.”

  “We have some experience with that.” Henry sighed. “My drawing ability has twice now resulted in our being involved with law enforcement. Two murder investigations—”

  Sophia jerked her head up so forcefully that she spilled her tea.

  “That’s not a problem.” Emma fetched a dish towel and started wiping up the liquid. “We have four children in this house, and even though two are nearly grown, we still have our fair share of spills.”

  “Your drawing frightened me.” Sophia studied Henry, as if she were still trying to make up her mind about him. “I thought…I became concerned that perhaps you weren’t who you appeared to be.”

  “And now?”

  “It seems you’re an Amish bishop, just as you’ve told me.”

  “That’s exactly right!” Henry slid the plate of cookies Emma had set on the table toward Sophia, but she didn’t appear to notice.

  “They couldn’t insert someone into Monte Vista, have him grow a long beard, teach him to drive a horse and buggy, and give him Amish friends in so short a period of time.” She seemed to be talking to herself more than to him. She grew silent, but finally she looked at Henry and said, “I believe you are who you say you are.”

  “Then we’re making progress. Now, Sheriff Grayson is a freind of mine—”

  “No. I can’t go to the authorities. I can’t trust them.”

  “Grayson’s a gut man,” Emma said. “He helped us during the last situation.”

  Sophia stood and began pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor. “I can’t go to the authorities. I tried that.” Her hand went to the scar on her neck, but she didn’t attempt to explain.

  “What can we do to help you?” Emma asked.

  “I appreciate your letting me stay here. There’s no Internet? No cell phones?”

  “We have a phone booth half a mile from here if you need to call family or—”

  “I don’t. It’s just that if you have neither of those things, they can’t track me.” She glanced out the window at the fields stretching toward the far horizon.

  They were on the outskirts of Monte Vista here. Not exactly isolated, but the area was private. No one would be sneaking up on them, if that was what she was worried about.

  “I’ll stay the night, but you needn’t concern yourself with my problems. And I promise to be gone in the morning.”

  Twelve

  You won’t believe this.

  Try me.

  She hitched a ride in a buggy.

  What are you talking about?

  A buggy, like the Amish drive.

  And?

  Driver took her to a different motel.

  She got out and then back in again.

  Where did they go after that?

  No idea. Once they were out of

  town, I couldn’t follow without

  being seen.

  Plate on the buggy?

  Nope. Not required in CO.

  This is a problem.

  Agreed.

  Find out who she’s made friends

  with, who she might have talked to.

  And then?

  We do what we have to.

  Thirteen

  Sophia had been surprised many times in the last eight weeks by the twists and turns her life had taken. But still, this might be one of the strangest. She was a houseguest in an Amish home. She was staying with people she barely knew. She was a long way from her loft apartment in San Diego, separated by tragedy and grief and many miles.

  Emma’s son and daughter-in-law had come home with their two younger boys in time for dinner, which consisted of sandwiches, homemade potato salad, and pie for dessert.

  “Your food is better than the diner’s,” Sophia said. She’d had trouble eating of late, constantly watching over her shoulder and jumping at the slightest noise. But she managed to relax in Emma’s home.

  How could she not? The only sounds were from farm animals and Emma’s family. No television news to hover over. No ringing phones since she had no wireless reception for her cell phone, though she’d popped the battery in for a moment while she was in the bathroom to make sure. Seeing the message cellular service not available had filled her with relief rather than worry. She didn’t need to talk to anyone, and with no service available, no one could track her current location.

  Emma’s family was quite welcoming. Clyde and Rachel had taken the notion of an overnight visitor in stride.

  “Any freind of Henry’s is a freind of ours.” Clyde had smiled warmly and then called the boys outside to help him with the evening’s farming chores. They didn’t whine or complain when they were called away from their checkers game, though she heard one challenge the other to a race. And then they were gone, sprinting off into the gathering darkness ahead of their father.

  She soon learned Rachel was an avid reader. “Mostly Christian fiction and classics. We don’t read a lot of contemporary popular fiction, though the occasional title will catch my attention.”

  They talked books for the next twenty minutes, with Emma smiling and sometimes offering an observation.

  “I’m not a big reader myself, but Rachel often shares what she’s reading.”

  “Sometimes I just need to talk about the characters or the plot.”

  “Perhaps you should join a book club,” Sophia suggested.

  “An Amish book club. Now there’s an interesting idea.”

  The way Emma and Rachel chuckled at that idea told Sophia it probably wouldn’t happen. She knew so little about the Amish way of life. She was rather ashamed of that. In the past she’d been eager to ask questions and learn about new people and different cultures. All of that had stopped on a rainy day in July. Now one thing and one thing only consumed her attention.

  “You’re looking tired, Sophia.” Rachel reached out and patted her hand. “Would you like me to show you to your room?”

  She hadn’t thought she was tired, not really. Until coming to Emma’s, she’d been filled with a desperate, nervous energy. But she knew she’d need to rest if she hoped to accomplish what she’d set out to do. Tomorrow might be her last chance. Certainly, the next few days—

  “Katie Ann has an extra bed in her room. And you’re welcome to take a shower.”

  Now, several hours later, she’d bee
n awakened by the sound of a buggy clattering down the lane and the clip-clop of a horse. She assumed the older children, Katie Ann and Silas, had come home. Rather than shattering the night’s peacefulness, the sound seemed to fade into it. She had almost fallen back asleep when Katie Ann came into the room, moving quietly, the beam of a flashlight shielded by her hand.

  “It’s okay. I’m awake.”

  They talked, but only for a few minutes. Katie Ann was more excited about the work she’d be doing with the local veterinarian the next day than she was about the boy who had asked to give her a ride home.

  “For once my bruder had no one to take home because his girlfriend left early with a stomach bug, so I thought it would be silly not to ride with him. Besides, Nathan Kline and I are not cut from the same fabric, as Mammi would say.”

  “Why is that? Don’t you like him?”

  “I like him okay, but with Amish folk, you’ll find some are more Plain than others.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Katie Ann had changed quickly and slipped beneath her covers. A small nightstand stood between their twin beds, and the room was so dark Sophia couldn’t make out much more than the outline of the furniture and the lump in the bed next to hers that was Katie Ann.

  “We’re all Plain. That is to say, anyone within an Amish community who has joined the church or plans to. We agree to live simply, to follow the Ordnung, to commit our lives to our faith and our family.”

  “What is an Ordnung?”

  “Rules. Pretty much it’s a set of rules. They vary a little from place to place. Some communities allow scooters or solar power or tractors. But overall, the rules are the same. Dress Plain, live humbly, remain separate.”

  “Separate?”

  “Ya, well, it’s not every day we have an Englischer spend the night in our household. But remaining separate speaks more to marrying other Amish, attending parochial school if possible, that sort of thing.”

  Warming to her subject, she plopped over on her mattress, turning toward Sophia so she could lower her voice. “Working with the local vet? In many communities that wouldn’t be allowed, but my family understands how much I love animals. And Henry tells me to pray and listen to Gotte’s voice. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I do think He gave me this love for animals. Do you know what I mean? Is there something you feel like if you don’t get to do it, you just might wither and die?”

  Katie Ann didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s how it is with me and working with Doc Berry. Each day I work with her, I can’t wait until the next day I work with her. And Nathan doesn’t understand that one bit. Tonight he asked me if I wouldn’t rather work in the quilt shop or the bakery. Ack. He doesn’t really know me at all.”

  Katie Ann sounded young, perhaps ten or fifteen years younger than she was. Sophia tried to remember a time when she hadn’t felt old and worried and sad. Had she ever been as carefree as Katie Ann? When had she last been eager for the next day to dawn? Her mind was flooded with memories of how happy she’d been a year ago, how she’d looked forward to each day’s assignment, how she’d fallen asleep each night in Cooper’s arms. Looking back, those memories seemed to belong to a different person.

  This thing that had taken over every aspect of her life had also stolen her hope.

  Katie Ann flopped onto her back. “I don’t know if I’ll ever find a boy, a man, who will love me for who I am, but I don’t even care about that right now. Does that make me strange?”

  This time she did wait for an answer.

  “It doesn’t make you strange at all. When you’re older—”

  “I’m already seventeen.”

  “When you’re twenty or twenty-five or even thirty—”

  “Twenty-five is almost an old maid.”

  Sophia winced in the darkness. At one time she, too, had thought twenty-five was old.

  “When you’re older, you’ll learn to accept who and what you are. You’ll be more comfortable with yourself. That’s one of the best things about growing older.”

  And oddly, Sophia searched her heart and found that was still true. If she could go back in time, she would do anything within her power to change what had happened, but she wouldn’t change who she was.

  As Katie Ann’s breathing deepened and evened out, the night sounds crept back into the room.

  Sophia had always been able to fix a time in her mind and wake up within a few moments of it—an ability that had helped her tremendously in college. Determined to be up and out of the house before anyone else was stirring, she focused her mind on five o’clock, rolled over, and promptly fell asleep.

  She woke to the smell of bacon frying downstairs and Katie Ann’s bed empty and made.

  Fourteen

  Emma had always assumed Englischers slept in late, at least until six or seven. So she was surprised when she looked up and saw Sophia standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her backpack slung over her shoulder, dark circles under her eyes. Emma had hoped a night’s rest would put their visitor at ease, but if anything she looked more wary than she had the night before.

  Emma reached for a mug and asked, “Can I pour you some coffee?”

  Sophia hesitated, but apparently she couldn’t resist the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

  “Clyde and the boys will be in from the barn in a few minutes. Katie Ann is feeding the chickens, and Rachel is in the laundry room, sorting clothes.”

  “Thank you.” Sophia took a gulp of the coffee, not bothering to doctor it with sugar or cream. Still clutching her drink, she walked to the window and stared out into the receding darkness until she’d drained the mug. She rinsed it, set it in the sink, and finally turned to Emma.

  “The food will be ready in a minute. Nothing fancy, but the bacon is crisp and the oatmeal’s hot. We have raisins and brown sugar to—”

  “I can’t stay for breakfast, but thank you for giving me a place to rest. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “At least let me put some fruit and sweetbread in a bag for you.”

  “No, Emma. Thank you, but I have to go.”

  “Where? Certainly no place is open this early. You said last night that you didn’t have a shift at the diner today. So where will you go?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Emma waited, but Sophia offered no other details. Finally she asked, “Will you be at the diner tomorrow?”

  “Maybe. I think so, yes.”

  “All right. I’m sure Henry will be by to see you there. He seems to enjoy the diner’s breakfast better than his own cooking.” She moved a pot off the stove burner, wondering what she could possibly say to Sophia to ease the worried look on her face. “Please tell him if there’s anything you need. If there’s anything we can do.”

  “You’ve done enough.”

  Sophia stepped closer and reached out as if she were going to put her hand on Emma’s arm. But Emma saw the ache and exhaustion in her eyes, and without making a conscious decision to do so, she wrapped her arms around the young woman and said, “We will pray for you, that Gotte prepares the road before you and makes clear your path.”

  Nodding her thanks, Sophia turned away. She started for the front door and then stopped in her tracks as if she had suddenly remembered something. Dropping her backpack onto the table, she unzipped it. Emma couldn’t see what she pulled out.

  “There is one thing you can do for me.” Stepping closer to Emma, she pressed a small item into her hand. “Keep this device.”

  “What is it?” She stared down at the oblong object, smaller than a clothespin but metallic. She’d never seen anything like it and had no idea what it was used for or why it would be so important to Sophia.

  “Just keep it.” Sophia folded Emma’s fingers over the device, held Emma’s hands in hers, and seemed to bow her head to pray. Looking up, she added, “Keep it safe, and if…if something happens to me—”

  “What could happen to you?”

  “If something does, take it to
someone you trust.”

  “Someone I trust?” Emma felt like a parrot, but she couldn’t stop herself from repeating what Sophia said.

  “You could give it to Henry. I think he would know what to do.”

  “All right. I can do that for you.”

  “Thank you, Emma.”

  Sophia once again wound her arms through the battered backpack’s straps. Emma followed her to the front door, and then Sophia stepped out into the early morning. At least the wind had died down. The morning was cold but would warm into a fine fall day.

  Sophia paused in their yard for a moment, scanning the horizon from left to right. Cinching the pack higher on her back, it appeared she was carrying a weight far heavier than one person should have to shoulder. Emma watched the young woman walk away. She said a prayer for her safety, and then she dropped the device Sophia had given her into her apron pocket.

  Soon the kitchen was filled with her family. Emma loved them so much that at times her heart felt full to overflowing. The boys jostled for seats around the table. Katie Ann came in jabbering about new kittens in the barn. Clyde reminded them to thank the Lord for good food and health and family. Rachel shared a smile with her husband.

  As they silently prayed, Emma’s mind slipped back to Sophia, to the image of her walking down their dirt lane, the pack once again weighing down her shoulders.

  Katie Ann asked about Sophia and seemed disappointed when Emma said she’d already gone. Once the boys had left for school, Clyde and Silas for the barn, and Katie Ann for Doc Berry’s, Emma admitted her fears to Rachel.

  “She’s in some kind of trouble. I only wish we could help her.”

  “What kind of trouble? And how would we help her?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “She didn’t appear to be on drugs or anything like that.”

  “Nein. I don’t think so either.”

  “Man trouble?”

  “I suppose it’s possible. I think she was married in the past.”

  “Widowed or divorced?”