Who the Bishop Knows

by Vannetta Chapman

  And Henry? Henry stood looking on with a soft smile that assured Emma this, too, would pass.

  Sixty-Five

  The medic met them as soon as they walked into the breezeway and asked Naomi and Katie Ann to come with her, but Emma wasn’t ready to let either girl out of her sight. They all moved back into the food service room, the same place Grayson had tried to put vests and microphones on her and Henry.

  She ran her hands over their cheeks, pulled their foreheads toward hers, and repeated again and again, “Thank You, Lord. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You.”

  “We’re okay, Mammi.”

  “He didn’t hurt us, Emma. Honest. We’re fine.”

  But Emma couldn’t immediately convince herself that was true. She touched their arms, looked deep into their eyes, and finally collapsed onto one of the chairs the same time Henry arrived.

  Officer Cunningham had escorted them down, but now she stepped back to give them a moment of privacy. Perhaps she was told to stay with them in case Lloyd hadn’t worked alone, but Emma knew the danger had passed. The look of relief on Henry’s face confirmed as much.

  And then Katie Ann threw herself into Henry’s arms, and Emma thought her heart would nearly burst at the sight of the two of them. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much Katie Ann had missed her grandfather and how much she was looking forward to Emma’s marriage to Henry.

  “I knew you’d find us,” Katie Ann said. She gave him one final hug and stepped back, as if she was suddenly embarrassed by her show of affection.

  “Of course we found you. Your mammi and I are good at finding lost sheep.”

  The medic was a middle-aged woman with dark hair cut in a short bob. She had a grandmotherly look to her and a practiced eye. “My name is Sandy Vane, and I’m going to give you a brief physical exam.”

  As Sandy spoke to the girls, she shone a light in their eyes, felt their pulse, and recorded their blood pressure. She explained each step of her exam.

  Emma knew they were in good hands. Finally the medic said, “You seem in remarkably good shape. Can you girls tell me how you feel?”

  “Tired,” Katie Ann admitted.

  “Hungry.”

  “Relieved and…”

  “And sad. It’s all so sad.” Naomi looked about to burst into tears again, but instead she uncapped the bottle of water the medic had pushed into her hands and took a long sip.

  “Were you hurt in any way? Did the man the officers arrested touch you or make any unwelcome advances?”

  “Nein. He didn’t do anything like that. He didn’t even seem that interested in us.” Katie Ann plopped into a chair next to Emma. “It was more like we were a means to an end.”

  “But we have no idea what end. He wouldn’t tell us what he wanted.”

  “Money,” Henry said. “He wanted money.”

  And then Grayson walked into the room, received a go-ahead look from Sandy, and prepared to take a statement from Naomi and Katie Ann. He set his phone on a stainless-steel tabletop, tapped something to record what they were saying, and pulled out his small notebook and pen to also take notes. Someone dragged five chairs up to a table, though Emma couldn’t imagine where they came from. They were, after all, in the middle of an industrial kitchen.

  “I’ve dispatched an officer to your parents’ home, Katie Ann, and to your aunt’s, Naomi. He will let them know you—and Henry and Emma—are okay and that you’ll all be home soon.”

  Both girls nodded.

  “Now, I need you to tell me what happened from the moment Lloyd first kidnapped you. Nothing is too small or unimportant, because whatever you tell me will help to build the case against him. Do you understand?”

  “Ya,” they said at the same time.

  Both girls were silent for a moment, and then Katie Ann said, “We were walking to Naomi’s from my house… ”

  Naomi took up the story. “It was after dinner, and we promised we’d go straight home. It was sort of… well, a joke that Katie Ann would walk with me and then I’d walk back with her. But we agreed to each go back home when we reached the halfway point. We promised to be careful.” This last sentence was said in a whisper.

  “We thought it would be safe because we were together, at least part of the way.”

  “And then an old truck with a horse trailer pulled up.”

  Katie Ann straightened her kapp, suddenly self-conscious about how she must look. “We would never have climbed into the truck, but Lloyd had a gun sitting on the seat, and he put his hand on it and told us to get in. We were hoping maybe he’d settle down and talk to us, I guess, take us to Naomi’s—”

  “I think we knew something wasn’t right.” Naomi cleared her throat. “That is, I’m sure we did, but we didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if we should scream and run, or just go along with it and hope everything would turn out all right. We got into the truck and thanked him for the ride, but then instead of asking where I lived—as far as I know he’d never been to my aenti’s house—he drove west, out of town.”

  “We begged him to stop, to let us out, but he only laughed. And then, when Katie Ann attempted to open the door… ”

  Katie Ann glanced at her friend, and Emma could tell by the look on her face that she was remembering the events of the last twenty-four hours in vivid detail. Emma prayed that her remembering would be a healing thing, that she would be able to give her statement and then forget what had happened, but she feared it wasn’t so. Hearts didn’t heal that quickly.

  “Which I couldn’t open because he’d locked it. Child locks or something.”

  “Well, then Lloyd pulled out the gun again and started waving it around.”

  “He didn’t seem to have any destination in mind.” Katie Ann glanced again at Naomi, who shrugged. “Not that we could tell. Finally, he stopped behind an old motel, the abandoned one out west of town.”

  “He pulled into the back, asked us if we needed to use the facilities, which we did. It was disgusting—dirty and smelled awful.”

  “We escaped, then, through the bathroom window, but he was expecting us to do just that.”

  “Then he made us get in the horse trailer.” Naomi’s left arm had begun to shake, and she clasped it with her right hand. “He bound our hands and feet with the tape, and he told us to be quiet, to be good, and we would be home with our families soon. He said something about needing to write a note, and he said… he said he would need to leave but he’d be back in the morning.”

  “We didn’t know what he was talking about,” Naomi said. “But then he made me write a note to Aenti Abigail and told me exactly what to say. I added that last line… much love… because she’d reminded me to add something like that on the letter to my mamm. But I hadn’t, and suddenly I wished I had.”

  “That line is what convinced me something was wrong.” Emma smiled at Naomi.

  Katie Ann took up the story. “After that he wrote a note—”

  “The one he left for you, Emma.” Henry sat forward, his hands clasped in front of him on the table.

  “He seemed to get angrier and angrier,” Naomi said. “Then he started hollering at me about the last column I wrote in the Budget.”

  “The one that mentioned Jeremiah.” Katie Ann reached for her friend’s hand.

  “Ya. He said I told lies there, that Jeremiah was never anything more than an Amish kid with a pipe dream, and that I should have chosen him instead of Jeremiah.” Naomi’s tears began to fall. “I barely remembered him from the last time I was in Goshen, but he talked like… like we’d been courting or something.”

  “It’s not your fault, Naomi.” Henry waited for her to meet his gaze. “It’s not your fault at all. Lloyd’s mind is confused. That doesn’t excuse what he did, and the Englisch courts will make sure he pays for his misdeeds and that he can’t hurt anyone again. But it does explain the why, and that this wasn’t the fault of either one of you in any way.”

  Neither girl looked convinced. Grayson cleared
his throat and stared at the phone, waiting. Emma pulled on her kapp strings until she feared she might tear them from the cloth.

  Henry reached forward and tapped the table. “Katie Ann, if you purchased a new horse from an Englischer, and it couldn’t pull a buggy because it was lame in one leg, would you blame the horse?”

  “’Course not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because its leg would keep him from pulling the buggy. A lame horse can’t do those things. Maybe when it was well it could.”

  “And Naomi, would you blame a reader who didn’t understand your column if only half of it were written?”

  “Nein. It wouldn’t make any sense until they read the end.”

  “It’s the same with Lloyd. Something in him is broken. It needs mending. And his story? Gotte hasn’t finished writing it yet. If he’s found guilty of this thing—”

  “He will be,” Grayson said gruffly.

  “Then he’ll spend many years, perhaps the rest of his life, in prison or in a facility for those mentally impaired. But even there, Gotte can heal him, and it is Gotte who has numbered his days and will write the end of his story.”

  And Emma knew then that both Katie Ann and Naomi would be all right, because they understood that they hadn’t done anything wrong, that there was something fundamentally broken inside of Lloyd Yutzy, and that now they were safe.

  Sixty-Six

  Transcript of interview between Monte Vista Sheriff Roy Grayson and Lloyd Yutzy, regarding the July 27 homicide of Jeremiah Schwartz and the August 6 aggravated kidnapping of Naomi Miller and Katie Ann Fisher. Audiotapes and a transcript of the interview are included in both permanent case files.

  Sheriff Roy Grayson #3604

  INTERVIEW WITH Lloyd Yutzy

  Case #4751.06 and #4764.01

  10:15 p.m., Tuesday, August 7

  Sheriff Grayson (SG): Please state your name for the recording.

  Lloyd Yutzy (LY): Lloyd Yutzy.

  SG: Middle initial?

  LY: Y. You already know that.

  SG: And for the record, your permanent place of residence is where?

  LY: Goshen, Indiana, which is a lot better place than here.

  SG: While visiting in the valley, you were staying with Mary and Chester Yoder?

  LY: If you already know everything about me, why are you asking?

  SG: Lloyd, do you understand that you’ve been charged with the murder of Jeremiah Schwartz and the aggravated kidnapping of Naomi Miller and Katie Ann Fisher?

  LY: (inaudible)

  SG: I need you to answer verbally for the recording.

  LY: I understand.

  SG: Also, for the record, you have waived your right to an attorney.

  LY: I don’t need an Englisch attorney. I’m innocent.

  SG: When you are brought before the judge tomorrow, an attorney will be provided for you.

  LY: Or we could work this out tonight. You could let me go, and I promise to leave this godforsaken place and never return.

  SG: Lloyd, where were you the night of July 27?

  LY: I wasn’t at the rodeo if that’s what you’re asking.

  SG: Can you prove that?

  LY: Sure. I was at the diner. Someone saw me there, that older waitress–the one with the red hair. She’ll tell you.

  SG: You were not in the arena?

  LY: I was not.

  SG: And what were you doing in the diner?

  LY: Working on my computer.

  SG: Do you think this is funny?

  LY: I don’t. I think you’re incompetent.

  SG: We found the footage of your drone tapes.

  LY: Those are mine. You have no right to look at them.

  SG: You shot Jeremiah with a drone?

  LY: Genius, right? You can’t place me at the scene of the crime. We both know that.

  SG: You used the drone to shoot Jeremiah?

  LY: Attached a modified rifle under the gear box. Found the instructions on the Internet! I had to practice a lot before I got here to be sure it would work. In the end, practice pays off.

  SG: You brought all of that on the bus with you?

  LY: It’s not as if I was going through an airport security scanner.

  SG: So you admit to shooting Jeremiah Schwartz on the night of July 27?

  LY: I’m not admitting to anything.

  SG: Lloyd, we have proof that you were in fact on your computer, guiding the movement of the drone, and that you sent the command that killed Jeremiah. Do you have any response to that?

  LY: It’s Henry, isn’t it? He drew me sitting in the diner. He probably got the details right down to me pushing the button.

  SG: It wasn’t Henry. Henry was at the rodeo.

  LY: I should have killed him before I went after Jeremiah.

  SG: We have in our possession recordings from closed-circuit cameras–security footage from standard surveillance in the diner.

  LY: I have nothing to say to that.

  SG: How is it no one saw the drone?

  LY: People rarely look up. It’s amazing what they don’t see even when it’s right in front of them.

  SG: That was a big risk for you to take.

  LY: Not really. Even if they had seen the drone, there was no way to track it to me.

  SG: It’s still murder, even if you weren’t physically present.

  LY: You don’t understand. Jeremiah was an embarrassment to good Amish folk everywhere.

  SG: Is that why you did it?

  LY: Somebody had to. Boots, Buckles, and Broncos? What a joke. He was making a joke of what it means to be Amish.

  SG: So you had to stop him.

  LY: I stood up, took responsibility, and did what had to be done.

  SG: And the girls? Why did you kidnap Naomi and Katie Ann?

  LY: They were gone less than twenty-four hours, hardly worthy of being called kidnapping.

  SG: You held them at gunpoint?

  LY: They weren’t going to get in the truck. I figured that might happen, knew how stubborn they were. And that Naomi? She thinks she’s too good for a regular, hardworking man.

  SG: So you threatened them with a gun, forced them into your vehicle, and then held them captive.

  LY: (inaudible)

  SG: I need you to answer verbally, please.

  LY: Ya. Whatever.

  SG: Taking the girls was part of a plan to ransom money from Bishop Henry Lapp. You needed money. Is that correct?

  LY: I was supposed to get Jeremiah’s money. He owed me, and I could have just kept what I brought from Goshen, but then he’d have kept on riding the rodeo, embarrassing members of our faith, leading on Naomi.

  SG: So you gave the money to him.

  LY: Just like I told you before.

  SG: Thinking you could retrieve the money after you killed him.

  LY: I went to that lame funeral, looked around his room, and found nothing. When I heard about Justin Lane taking the money from the girls—believe me, news travels fast in an Amish community–I knew I had to adjust my plan.

  SG: Is there anything else you’d like to add to your statement?

  LY: No.

  SG: You’ll appear before a judge tomorrow morning, when you will be arraigned for murder in the first degree and aggravated kidnapping.

  LY: Arraigned?

  SG: Your first appearance in court. A judge will decide if you’re a flight risk, which I believe you are. The judge will then either set bail or decide you’re to remain in jail until your trial.

  LY: What do I do until then?

  SG: You’ll be taken back to your jail cell.

  LY: I have to stay here?

  SG: Yes.

  LY: But that isn’t fair. I was only doing what had to be done.

  SG: Maybe, during the trial, you’ll have the chance to explain that to Jeremiah’s family.

  LY: But I can’t court Naomi from a jail cell.

  SG: No. You can’t.

  LY: You’re saying I can’t go home?r />
  SG: No, Lloyd. You can’t go home.

  Sixty-Seven

  Two days later, Henry drove Emma to Bread 2 Go. He told Lexi to stay in the buggy, and they went inside to order a cinnamon roll each and a hot cup of coffee for Henry and hot tea for Emma. It was late for breakfast and too early for lunch. The bakery was still packed with people. Apparently, it was an all-day phenomenon.

  Franey asked after the girls and then walked around the counter and embraced Emma on hearing they were fine.

  “We’ve been praying,” she said, “and I knew they would be okay. I’d even heard as much from Abe, but it’s good to hear it from you.”

  “Will Naomi come back to work here?”

  “Ya, but we insisted she take the rest of the week off.”

  Henry stepped back as they talked about an upcoming sew-in. It was good to see Franey Graber smiling. It wasn’t that long ago that many in their community had called her Frowning Franey, but it seemed she’d found a contented place in her life, and her expression—her entire demeanor—reflected that.

  Ruth Schwartz had a question about their wedding cake. She fairly beamed as she showed Emma a drawing of what she planned to make.

  “Not too fancy, though,” Emma said.

  “Nein. Of course not.” Ruth paused, glanced at Henry, and then added, “But it’s not every day our bishop gets married.”

  Nancy Kline refused to take their money when they checked out. “Your money’s no good here, Henry. Not today. You and Emma solved another murder.”

  “We didn’t exactly solve it,” Emma protested.

  Henry nodded in agreement. “Stumbled into things.”

  “Like last time.”

  “And the time before that.”

  “We’re done with mysteries and murder, though.”

  “We plan to live out our lives in marital bliss, with the only excitement coming from birding and grandchildren.”

  “And Katie Ann’s animals.”

  “Are you sure I can’t pay you? You are a business,” Henry pointed out. “Your goal is to make a profit.”

  “We’re doing that just fine, thank you.”

  Henry glanced at the growing line behind him and decided it was best not to argue the point.