When the Bishop Needs an Alibi

by Vannetta Chapman

  “Don’t try anything stupid.”

  “What would we try? Do you think we’re going to run away?” Emma twitched her head to the right and then to the left. “Where would we go?”

  “That was going to be my next point. I’d just as soon kill you here, but Clayton—”

  She didn’t exactly slap her hand over her mouth, but Emma could tell she wished she could take that last word back. Clayton. Emma didn’t know anyone named Clayton, but maybe Sheriff Grayson would, which was another reason she had to stay alive. She wanted to pass on the names of all those responsible for the murders of Sophia and Cooper Brooks.

  Tess was being suspiciously quiet. Emma wondered if all they’d been through had been too much, pushing the young woman over some abyss. But then she caught her eyeing the back of Jimmy’s jeans, where he’d pocketed her cell phone. If she could get hold of that phone, perhaps they could call for help.

  “Jimmy, lead the way.”

  “To where?”

  “Top of the trail. Same place as before.”

  What did that mean? Had they killed someone else in addition to Sophia and Cooper? Emma shared a worried look with Tess.

  Jimmy pushed the button on his flashlight and tapped it against his hand. Shrugging, he said, “Fine, but I need another flashlight.” He walked toward the back of the truck and disappeared into the darkness.

  Emma could hear him, though. He was pushing stuff around and grumbling. After a couple of minutes, he emerged carrying a different flashlight, this one also wrapped in red cellophane, and wearing a backpack.

  Paddock threw him a questioning glance. “I didn’t tell you to get a pack.”

  “Always hike prepared. You know as well as I do how dangerous these trails can be, especially at night.”

  Paddock rolled her eyes and then pointed her flashlight toward the ground. Before she had a chance to bark any more orders, Tess slipped into line behind Jimmy. He didn’t seem to have any problem picking out the trail in the darkness, his light bouncing on the ground in front of him. Around them the trees seemed to press in, and overhead they shut out the starlight.

  How could he be sure he was going the right direction? Even with the flashlight, he couldn’t see more than a couple of feet. Perhaps his eyes had adjusted faster than Emma’s. She felt as though she were trying to walk through the root cellar with no light on. She quickly caught up with them, determined to put herself between Tess and Paddock. If Tess could get close enough to Jimmy, maybe she could grab the phone.

  Emma thought she heard something behind them. It was probably a moose or an elk, but for a fleeting moment, she had a vision of help arriving en masse—sheriffs and agents and park rangers who hadn’t joined up with the dark side.

  It didn’t happen.

  They were still alone, hiking into the wilderness with an unstable ranger and her sidekick.

  Jimmy led the way down a barely discernible trail through the forest and past a grove of ponderosa pines. Emma became aware of the sound of water and wondered what creek they were passing. She wasn’t familiar enough with the area to know. But she recognized the Sangre de Cristo Mountains rising up in the darkness to their right, and she occasionally caught a glimpse through the trees of the sand dunes to their left. They were headed north.

  The trees fell away and the wind picked up as the trail gained elevation. Emma shut her mind to that and focused instead on pulling her sweater more tightly around her shoulders and putting one foot in front of the other. The wind pushed against her, nearly toppling her off balance and whipping her dress around her legs. She glanced up and saw Tess attempting to hold down her hair that swirled around her head, no doubt obscuring her vision. Emma was grateful for the bonnet she wore over her prayer kapp. Who said Plain clothing wasn’t practical? Though she wouldn’t recommend climbing a steep trail in a dress.

  They walked for what Emma guessed to be about twenty minutes, her shoes filling with sand. She could taste it in her mouth, feel its grit against her skin, and the wind whipped it around, causing her eyes to burn and water. The way became steeper with each turn of the trail, and then Jimmy slowed and turned left.

  Emma didn’t want to take that left turn, but Paddock nudged her in the back with the barrel of the gun.

  “Keep going and stay in a straight line,” she hissed.

  Emma stepped off the trail, careful to stay directly behind Tess. She kept her eyes on the ground and attempted to focus on the feel of the wind against her skin. Her pulse was thundering and her palms were sweating. She felt somewhat light headed, and then realized she was taking quick, shallow breaths. The ground tilted, and she stumbled, forging on when Paddock snarled something incomprehensible. Her legs were beginning to tremble, and suddenly she couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t fathom why they were here or what she should do.

  She needed to get somewhere safe. She needed to lie down.

  But, of course, those things weren’t possible. She pulled in a full, deep breath and hugged her arms around her torso.

  Breathe deeply. Wasn’t that what the doctor had told her when she’d asked him about this? “It’s probably part postmenopause and part acrophobia.”

  And what had he suggested as the best cure for a fear of heights? Stay away from high precipices. Stay on the ground. Avoid stressful situations.

  No wonder she was hyperventilating. She couldn’t imagine a more stressful situation than the one they were in.

  But she could control this. She could and would remain calm. All she had to do was keep going, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and never ever look down.

  But then Jimmy stopped, and Tess bumped into him, and Emma couldn’t avoid looking out any longer. She chose to look up, and the world began to tilt as she attempted to take in the millions of stars above their heads.

  “Faint on me, and we’ll throw your body off this dune.”

  Emma glanced at Paddock and noticed that she was again touching each of her fingers to her thumb in some type of nervous twitch.

  “What’s the difference?” Tess asked. “You’re going to kill us anyway.”

  “Good point, but I thought you might like a moment to pray, or whatever it is you do.”

  Finally there was nowhere for Emma to look except in front of them, at the miles and miles of sand dunes that dropped off into darkness, to the floor of the San Luis Valley.

  Her heart was now beating so hard that she raised a hand to rub her chest.

  A sudden and intense nausea forced bile up and into her throat. The muscles in her legs began to shake. There was a heaviness on her chest as she struggled for a deep breath.

  Now was not the time for a panic attack.

  She’d been held at gunpoint for more than an hour, and she’d remained reasonably calm. But her body was rebelling against this—a fear of falling off the sand dune.

  Paddock had said she was giving them time to pray, but the only prayer that came to Emma’s lips was The Lord is my shepherd. She closed her eyes again, relieved not to have to look at the edge of the sand cliff they stood on, and she began to silently recite the twenty-third psalm.

  She was vaguely aware of Paddock saying, “Watch them,” to Jimmy, and then she stepped away. Emma opened her eyes, wondering what could be more important than the murder this woman was intent on committing. She watched in amazement as Paddock pulled out her cell phone and pointed it toward them. She held it up at arm’s length and eye level. There was a bright flash, and she stared down at the small screen for a moment. Apparently satisfied with what she saw there, she turned away from them and walked a few paces in the opposite direction.

  Sixty-Six

  We’re here.

  Then do it.

  It’ll cost you.

  Meaning what?

  Paddock’s rage nearly blinded her. This idiot sat in his million-dollar home and expected her to take all the risks. Well, it was time that he pay her what she was clearly worth.

  I want one million dollars.r />
  She stopped typing and sent the photo she’d just taken.

  One million, or I share this picture

  with the authorities.

  And land in jail? I don’t think so.

  You know I’m smarter than that.

  Meaning what?

  The phone can’t be traced to me.

  Also, I’ll be three countries away

  before I hit Send.

  You don’t want to double-cross me.

  And you don’t want to doubt

  that I would do it.

  Fine. I’ll take care of your money

  when the banks open.

  Now. And I want proof of the

  transfer.

  Ten minutes, but do

  all three of them.

  Sixty-Seven

  The young man’s name was Jimmy. Henry had heard the woman say, “Jimmy, lead the way,” when they stopped in the parking area.

  Jimmy was with the woman, and Henry had seen him hold the gun on Emma and Tess. But Jimmy didn’t seem to be on the woman’s side. Over the years Henry had learned things were often not as they seemed. When you walked up on a situation, you were witnessing only five minutes of a very long story. There was no way to know what had happened before, and you often didn’t know what happened after, either.

  It was best to keep an open mind.

  For the moment, it appeared that Jimmy was somehow, inexplicably, on their side.

  The woman’s name was Paddock, or so Jimmy had said. She was dressed in a national park employee uniform. Henry might have thought she’d stolen it, but he’d caught the light from Jimmy’s flashlight reflecting off her uniform. What were the odds she would have stolen a uniform with someone’s name on it? She was a park employee all right—a ranger by the looks of things, which made this entire situation all the more puzzling.

  Henry squatted at a point just below the top of the ridge, like Jimmy had told him to do, but he could still peer over the top.

  Paddock stood off to the side. She was once again typing on her phone.

  Emma and Tess waited at the highest point of the dune. The wind was whipping Emma’s dress and Tess’s hair. Jimmy stood close to Tess and handed her something, but Henry couldn’t see what it was. His eyes had adjusted to the dark as much as they were going to. He felt lucky to be able to see at all, given the moonless night, but then they were standing on the edge of a cliff beneath the stars. The three of them—Emma and Tess and Jimmy—were silhouetted against the heavenly light that had guided men and women since Adam and Eve had left the garden.

  The hike up from the parking area had been difficult, but all the walks with Lexi had helped keep Henry in fair shape. The problem had been the two sand boards he carried, the ones Jimmy had shoved toward him in the darkness while he was still crouched in the bed of the truck.

  “Take the sleds, just in case,” he had murmured. “Get the women away from Paddock when I give you the signal.”

  “Take them where?”

  “Bottom of the dunes. Hide until help arrives.”

  Henry didn’t have much faith that any sort of help was on the way—at least not yet. Not unless Stuart had connected immediately with Grayson. Even then, Grayson would have to alert others, find the trail and the meadow, somehow figure out that they’d been carted off in a national park truck…it was all more than Henry could imagine. But he had no other plan to rescue Emma and Tess, so he did as Jimmy said and carried a sand board under each arm. They were fiberglass and lighter than he would have thought, though climbing the trail carrying them had proved a bit arduous.

  Paddock put her phone in her pocket, turned back toward Jimmy and Tess and Emma, and raised her gun. Only Jimmy was no longer there. Somehow he’d managed to circle around behind her while she was staring at the phone. He shouted “Now!” as he ran toward her.

  Paddock pivoted toward Jimmy’s voice, and a gun went off, but Henry didn’t wait to see who had been shot.

  He was running toward Emma and Tess.

  “Slide down the dune! Quickly!” He tossed one of the boards at Tess, who jumped on and launched herself off the precipice.

  Emma’s eyes widened and her voice came out in a strangled whisper. “I can’t—”

  But Henry didn’t wait to hear the rest. He dropped the other board, pushed Emma onto it in a sitting position, and then plopped down behind her, his arms around her waist. He pushed off with all of his might, praying Emma had instinctively grabbed the board’s handles.

  They sailed out and over the top of the sand dune. For a moment, Henry understood what it must feel like to fly, what the cranes experienced each time they soared up and away.

  And then they hit the sand hard, jarring his teeth.

  Another shot rang out, and Henry felt a burning pain in his left arm, but he didn’t have time to consider why. He had to concentrate. Paddock was using a handgun, and they were certainly out of range of any additional shots. The sound of her firing again and again echoed across the dunes. He heard another gunshot from above, but this one landed in the sand to the right. It didn’t seem likely that Jimmy would help them escape and then try to kill them, so Paddock must still be shooting. He had to get Emma away from Paddock. He prayed that Jimmy was okay but feared he wasn’t.

  Emma didn’t scream. She didn’t try to pull them off the board. Henry still had his arms wrapped around her, and he felt as if they were one.

  They plunged into the night, bouncing against the dune again and again.

  Their sled slowed on one of the plateaus, Emma shouted something, and then she pointed to the left. He could just make out Tess plunging over another hill, so he adjusted their sled, pushed with both his feet and his hands, though his left hand refused to cooperate, and then they were flying again. Sand smacked them in the face. Paddock shouted something into the night.

  Starlight fell softly on their path.

  When they finally stopped and Henry was sure they had reached the bottom, he stood on shaky legs and reached down a hand to help Emma up. There was enough starlight to make out the silhouette of her, and Henry breathed a prayer of gratitude that she was alive.

  Emma swayed back and forth, her head swiveled left and right, and then she walked into his arms. “That was terrifying, Henry.”

  “It was quite the ride.”

  “I thought I was going to fall off the top of that cliff.”

  “It was only a sand dune, and actually I pushed you.”

  “But how…why…when did you—”

  Before he could think which question to answer first, Tess trudged toward them. “What do you think is happening up there?”

  “I heard shots,” Emma said.

  “So did I. Probably that woman, Paddock, though clearly we were out of range. She’s desperate. I don’t think it could have been Jimmy shooting.” When both women turned to stare at him, Henry added, “We should hide. He said to hide until help comes.”

  He picked up the board with his right arm, led them around a smaller dune, and then let go of the board so it dropped into the sand. “If we can’t see the top, they can’t see us.”

  Tess stepped closer as she dropped her board next to his. She reached out, touched his left arm, and then rubbed her thumb against her fingers. “Henry, you’re bleeding. I think you’ve been shot.”

  “What?” Emma’s voice rose in panic.

  Henry put one finger to his lips. “Sound carries out here. I don’t think Paddock will follow, but we should keep our voices down.”

  He twisted his head to get a better look at his left shoulder. “That’s why it was burning.”

  Blood had poured down his sleeve. Funny how he hadn’t noticed that before, but then adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. “I knew it was hurting, but I didn’t realize…”

  And then he was light headed, the rush of blood buzzing in his ears, and his legs no longer steady.

  “Over here, Henry. Sit down and let me…” Emma clasped her hands in front of her.
“Oh my…”

  “We need to stop the bleeding.” Tess looked around, as if there might be medical supplies hidden somewhere, and then she said, “Your apron. Tear off a strip.”

  Emma snatched up the bottom of her apron and yanked hard on the hem, trying to tear away a two-inch-wide section, but the cotton was thick and wouldn’t rip.

  “Use this,” Henry said, fishing out his pocketknife.

  She opened the small blade, poked the tip through the fabric, and yanked on it, causing a nice-sized tear. The section tore away easily.

  “I’ve never…”

  “I have.” Tess took the fabric from her. “Hold out your arm, Henry.”

  She wound the fabric over, around, down and back again, then repeated the process until she had used the entire section. When she reached the end of the fabric she reached for the knife, split the material in two, pulled the ends in opposite directions, and then tied a knot. “I don’t think it will bleed through. How do you feel?”

  “Light headed for a minute. But better now, I think.”

  Emma and Tess plopped to the ground next to him. They sat in a tight circle, sheltered from the wind—and hidden from Paddock—by the dune.

  “Jimmy’s on our side?” Emma asked.

  But it was Tess who answered. “I suspected as much. Remember when Paddock first forced us into the truck? While she was on her phone, he almost talked to us…”

  “She came back too soon.”

  “Right.”

  “He saw me in the back of the truck when he went to close the gate,” Henry said. “I thought…I guess I thought maybe he’d looked right through me. He just gave one shake of his head, and I convinced myself I’d imagined it.”

  “But then he went around to speak to you,” Emma said. “When we parked at the Point of No Return.”

  “Ya. He was throwing stuff around, making a lot of noise.”

  “He told Paddock he needed another flashlight.” Tess hugged her knees in the circle of her arms. “I wondered what he was doing back there.”