When the Bishop Needs an Alibi

by Vannetta Chapman

  Fifty-Nine

  When Henry finished recounting his visit from Grayson, Agent Delaney pulling him over, the impromptu meeting with Emma and Tess at the diner, the second visit from Grayson, and then Nancy’s visit to his house, Stuart let out a long, low whistle.

  “I thought you lived a Plain and simple life.”

  “Ya. I did. Until this.”

  “Uh-huh, and the other thing.”

  “Ya, that too. But in between the Monte Vista arsonist and Sophia’s murder, things have been relatively quiet.”

  Stuart shifted in his seat as he peered into his rearview mirror. “No one’s following us now. We have the road to ourselves.”

  “A gut thing, in this case.”

  “So what’s your plan? You want me to just drop you off on the side of the road?”

  “Ya, where Highway 150 crosses Mosca Creek—one mile east and to the north of the creek.”

  “And I just drive away and leave you there, where you might be in the crosshairs of a killer?”

  Henry waved that thought away. “Gotte will protect me.”

  “Uh-huh. What about how God helps those who help themselves?”

  “That one actually isn’t in the Bible. Some scholars attribute it to Ben Franklin. Others say it originated from Algernon Sydney. Regardless, it’s definitely not in the Bible.”

  “Never argue with a bishop.”

  “Indeed.”

  Stuart slowed a little as they neared the sand dunes.

  “I’m not just leaving you here, Henry. Do you even have a weapon?”

  “Nein. We’re pacifists. We don’t believe in carrying weapons.”

  “Do you mind if I ask why you’re doing this?”

  “Because Tess and Emma could be in danger.”

  “And why couldn’t you call the police?” Stuart held up a hand to stop his protests. “Right. You don’t trust them.”

  “I trust Grayson.” Henry pulled the card out of his pocket and the message he had scribbled for the sheriff. The message was only two lines. I’ve left to find Emma and Tess, who have gone to the sand dunes to gather evidence. They may be in trouble.

  He wondered, not for the first time, why he hadn’t called Grayson from the phone shack. Why hadn’t he called Grayson instead of Stuart? Because Grayson would tell him to stay home. As an officer of the law, he’d be obligated to insist that Henry respect the terms of his release from the Monte Vista jail. Henry understood the importance of that, but he needed to be with Emma. He needed to make sure she wasn’t in any killer’s “crosshairs,” as Stuart had so eloquently put it.

  But he didn’t say any of that to Stuart. Instead, he handed him the card and the note.

  “That’s a message for Sheriff Grayson, explaining what I think has happened and what I plan to do, and on the card is his private number. Give him a call once you’re back in Monte Vista.”

  “Why wait?”

  “Because I need to do this, and I have no doubt Grayson will try to stop me.”

  “All right, but just to be clear, we’re sure he’s one of the good guys?”

  “Ya, we’re sure.”

  Stuart blew out a long breath as he pulled off the road, slowed, and came to a stop behind Tess’s car.

  “I don’t feel good about this, Henry.”

  “Go home and call Grayson once you get there. He might not answer right away, but he’ll call you back. You have a cell phone, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Tell him…” Henry stared out the window. He wouldn’t ask Stuart to lie, but neither did he want Grayson immediately on their trail. Perhaps what Emma and Tess were after wasn’t even in the woods near the sand dunes. Maybe they’d read the information on the small flash drive wrong. Perhaps they’d made assumptions that would prove, ultimately, to be unfounded.

  There was another reason he didn’t want Grayson hot on their trail. Grayson would be required to report to the authorities that Henry had fled outside his allowed zone. Perhaps the federal agents or the Monte Vista police already knew that because of a signal. Regardless, Grayson wouldn’t be able to keep this between them. He had a job to do, and he wouldn’t hesitate because of their friendship.

  Grayson wasn’t the one Henry didn’t trust. He didn’t trust who Grayson might be required to work with. At the very least, Grayson would have to alert Agent Delaney, and possibly Officers Anderson and Lawson as well. Henry didn’t know which side of the equation those men were on.

  He needed an hour’s head start, maybe two, to figure things out. He needed time to back up Tess and Emma and to decide their next step before the official authorities became involved.

  “If you don’t mind—”

  “Of course I don’t. I’m here. Aren’t I?”

  “Indeed you are, and I thank you for that. Go back to my house. Once you arrive there, wait one hour before you call Grayson.”

  “But Henry—”

  “I need you to do this for me, Stuart, and I need you to do it my way. Give me time to find Tess and Emma and convince them to come back to Monte Vista. I think…I’m sure I can persuade them to hand whatever information they’ve found over to Grayson.”

  “All right. One hour.”

  “Wait at my house. It will be easier for him to find you there. Also, if anyone else comes by with information for me…” He couldn’t think who that might be, but the night had progressed well beyond his imagination already. “Tell them I said to give you the information. You decide what you should pass on to Grayson.”

  “Only Grayson?”

  “Ya. He’s the only one you can trust. Don’t tell anyone else. Grayson said he’d be back as soon as he could, and it could be that he’ll answer his phone before then. Wait for him and bring him here.”

  “Here—where? Henry, this place is huge.”

  “There’s a trail there in the woods. I’m supposed to follow it to a clearing.”

  “I don’t think you should—”

  “I’m not going to let her die, Stuart. I’m not going to let either one of them die.”

  In the end Stuart had agreed, with a frown pulling at his face and the cryptic words, “Just be careful.”

  Henry had opened the door and was stepping out into the night when Stuart called him back.

  “Take this.” Stuart pulled a flashlight from the glove compartment and pushed it into his hands. “And Godspeed.”

  “May He be with you as well.”

  Henry stood for a moment, watching as Stuart turned the old truck around and then floored the gas pedal. As if getting back to Henry’s place faster would hurry the time until he could call Grayson.

  Henry didn’t feel his age as he walked past Tess’s car and made a right at the creek, following its bank until a trail diverted to the right. The time must be close to three in the morning, he was following a barely recognizable trail into the woods, and he might be approaching a killer. But none of those things bothered him at the moment.

  His joints didn’t hurt, he wasn’t tired, and he felt sure that following Emma and Tess was the right thing to do.

  Three things to be thankful for, and he was sure there were more.

  If he lived to see the dawn, he’d commit himself to being more grateful.

  Sixty

  It felt as if they’d been sitting beneath the boughs on the pine trees for days, but Emma’s watch assured her it had been only a few hours. The pickup was supposed to take place at three, and they both agreed this was the place described in Cooper’s notes—or was it Sophia’s notes? The events and discoveries of the night were all blurring together in Emma’s mind. Nothing about this meadow looked special. It did not look like a place for illegal activity, a place to harbor criminals, or a place where a pickup of any sort would take place.

  On the far side of the grassy area, Emma could just make out a few elk licking on a block of some sort. She supposed the rangers put them out to supplement their diet, though she couldn’t imagine why they would need an
y source of food the area couldn’t provide. Hadn’t the wildlife been here for hundreds of years, long before man set up a visitor center and camping areas?

  It could be a mineral block or a salt block, but she couldn’t think of a good reason for either of those.

  She was about to mention it to Tess when her thoughts were interrupted by the whir of helicopter blades.

  They both instinctively ducked down, but whoever was in the helicopter wasn’t paying any attention to the surrounding area. A large spotlight flashed on. It seemed to come from the underbelly of the helicopter and was focused on the elk at the far end of the meadow. As for the animals, Emma suddenly fully understood the term frozen like a deer in headlights. The elk, giant and majestic, looked incapable of moving. Before they could adjust to the light or respond in any way, someone leaned out of the helicopter and fired rapidly with a rifle. The smaller of the three elk staggered in a circle before collapsing. Another attempted to run, ramming headfirst into a tree and then falling to its knees. The largest of the three caused Emma to emit a strangled cry.

  Every detail of what was happening stood out in marked contrast to the darkness around them. She had once visited Doc Berry when Katie Ann was assisting her as she performed minor surgery on a tabby cat. A bright spotlight had flooded the operating table with illumination, revealing every detail of the cat’s fur, the incision the doctor had made, even the drops of blood on the scalpel. Emma considered herself made of tough stuff, but she’d almost fainted at the sight of bright red blood on the stainless-steel blade.

  Watching the elk stagger about, she was reminded of that small cat. Both animals seemed utterly helpless. The beast was huge, with impressive antlers and a reddish hue to its hair. It had also been shot, though Emma saw no blood. Perhaps they hadn’t used bullets. The bull high-stepped in a circle, obviously disoriented, but he remained upright. In the circle of bright light coming from the helicopter, someone stepped out of the woods, raised a rifle, and shot again. Emma couldn’t hear much because of the helicopter’s rotating blades. It hovered there, waiting. The pilot made no attempt to land.

  Emma thought maybe she’d fallen asleep and was imagining things. This couldn’t be happening. It was like a bizarre dream that made no sense. But the evidence was right in front of her.

  The helicopter was real. The armed men were real. They still waited, rifles raised, as if they might need to shoot the animal again.

  The bull elk was certainly real. It stood and barked, reminding Emma of Henry’s little dog. Then, as if in slow motion, the magnificent beast collapsed.

  Emma clutched Tess’s arm, but she seemed unaware that they might be in any danger. In fact, she had stepped out of the protection of the tree line, holding the phone up and catching the entire thing on, Emma assumed, a video.

  Two additional men ran from the woods opposite them. Both dropped to their knees beside the largest elk, but Emma couldn’t see what they were doing. Then the helicopter moved, and a kind of sling was lowered. The four men on the ground raised the elk with some difficulty, and a fifth person—a smaller person Emma hadn’t noticed before—pulled the sling under the beast. Once the bull was secured, the smaller person, who Emma realized must be a woman, signaled the helicopter pilot.

  The sling was raised, and the bull disappeared into the helicopter.

  The process was repeated two more times. They’d obviously done this before, as they worked with sure, efficient movements. Once the last animal was loaded, one of the men on the ground signaled the pilot in the helicopter. It rose and sped away into the night, its spotlight now doused. Several of the men ran back into the woods, and Emma heard an engine growl to life as a vehicle sped away. The man and woman left behind turned on flashlights and began cleaning up the meadow, picking up the mineral blocks, scouring the ground—probably for any evidence they had been there—and finally heading back into the woods, back in the direction they had come.

  In the sudden silence, Emma could hear her pulse thundering through her veins.

  “What just happened?” she hissed.

  Tess was checking the video on her phone. “We got them. We got the evidence.”

  Tess stopped talking to Emma, turned the camera to face herself and said, “We’re two miles southeast of the entrance to the Great Sand Dunes National Park.”

  “What are you doing, Tess?”

  “What you just saw was someone stealing elk from the park. Please share this post.”

  “We should go.”

  Tess continued to ignore Emma, focusing instead on the phone, which was apparently still recording. “This video must go out to as many people as possible. These people killed my sister and my brother-in-law. You can help me stop them.”

  She seemed oblivious to the fact that they were now standing alone on the edge of the tree line. It was a miracle that no one had seen them, but then they’d been hovering in the darkness rather than the bright light of the helicopter.

  “Why would anyone steal an elk?” Emma wondered aloud.

  Tess wasn’t the one who answered.

  “Because they bring good money.”

  The voice was clipped, cold, and feminine. Emma knew without turning that it was the woman she’d seen pull the sling under the elk. Who else could it have been? What woman other than her and Tess would be in this meadow in the middle of the night? Emma suddenly understood that they’d miscalculated rather badly. They hadn’t been as invisible as she’d thought.

  Tess’s hand froze, holding the phone still, not daring to make a move.

  “Drop the phone and take two steps back.”

  “And if I don’t?” Tess’s voice was practically a snarl, a cry of anguish and anger. “Are you going to kill me like you did my sister?”

  “I will. I’ll shoot you right where you stand.”

  Sixty-One

  Henry had started running as soon as he heard the sound of the helicopter.

  He’d nearly stumbled into the clearing, coming to a halt when the spotlight from the helicopter lit up the meadow like broad daylight. He’d pulled back into the shadows and waited.

  He could just make out Tess, standing on the far side of the grassy area and holding up her cell phone. It was amazing that no one else noticed her, but then their attention was on the elk. He thought he saw Emma standing beside her, but he couldn’t be sure.

  He’d watched as several men and one woman rushed forward and harvested the animals. They were lifted in giant slings, one at a time, and then one of the men gave a signal and the helicopter rose and darted away. Most of the men left, rushing back through the woods, but the woman and one man had stayed, apparently to clean up the site and make sure no evidence was left. Henry had known that was his chance, so he’d begun to make his way around the meadow, hoping to get to Tess and Emma and convince them to leave now that they had whatever proof they’d come for.

  But by the time he’d worked his way back into the woods and around the meadow, the woman was holding a rifle on Tess and Emma, saying, “I’ll shoot you right where you stand.”

  He realized with a start that he’d seen the ranger before, in the diner. Had she been following Sophia? Had she killed Sophia?

  Tess was still clutching her phone, and the woman was saying something Henry couldn’t hear, her voice lower and more menacing. The man with her glanced Henry’s way. Henry dropped to the ground, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. His heart hammered in his chest, and he lay there with his face pressed into newly fallen leaves. Finally he dared to glance up, praying they wouldn’t see him. No one was looking his direction. Why would they be? He was lying in the middle of the woods in the dark.

  His mind combed through his alternatives as he slowly rose to his feet.

  He could go back to the road and try to wave down help, but it might be hours before anyone passed by. He could walk over to the entrance of the park, but no one would be there for hours.

  What other option did he have?

  He could rush in
to the meadow and defend Tess and Emma. If it came to that, he would, but his presence might tip the scales the other way. It was two against two at this point, and the woman had a rifle. If he made his presence known, she would feel outnumbered, threatened, and even more desperate.

  Henry also felt a rising sense of desperation, but another part of his heart, of his mind, told him there was no reason to panic. God had surely directed their path. How else could they explain being here? The woman in front of him, the woman now threatening Tess and Emma, had most likely killed Sophia and probably Sophia’s husband too. Why else would she be holding a gun on the two women? Who would have thought an Amish bishop, a grandmother, and a financial adviser could accomplish what the police hadn’t?

  Surely God had given them the victory.

  His spirits rose as he remembered the dream about his mother. She’d been urging him on. Something more came to him as he hid in the darkness of the woods. His mother’s left hand, clutched around her middle, had come out in a familiar gesture—palm down, urging him to move slower, more carefully. She’d done that often when he was a young lad, prone to rush about without thinking. “Slower, Henry.” Her voice had held an abundance of affection mixed with caution. In the dream, it had been the same. While she had urged him to action, she’d also cautioned him.

  Henry couldn’t have said whether his dream was a vision from God. It seemed a bit bold, even absurd, to believe that God would intervene in such a way. And yet, wasn’t that the truth of the gospel, that their heavenly Father was willing to intercede on their behalf?

  So instead of allowing fear to slow his steps and thoughts, he chose to focus on what could be done. He crouched where he was waiting and prayed for an opportunity, a chance to make this right, a way to protect the woman he loved and a young lady he barely knew.

  Sixty-Two

  Emma glanced down in time to catch a tiny glimpse of the screen on Tess’s phone. All she could make out before the screen went dark were the words “live stream complete.” Then Tess pushed a button on the side of the phone and dropped it on the ground.