by Marta Perry
“He wasn’t the only one. A lot of people apparently invested their money with Eli.” Surely it couldn’t do any harm to push a little. “Did you find out? Were you coming to tell me that night?” She clasped Esther’s hands in hers, blocking out the peaceful room and the children’s squeals, intent on her friend.
“Cold,” Esther murmured, and Libby knew she wasn’t talking about the present. “Couldn’t… Buggy couldn’t outrun them.” She leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, looking drained.
“Them?” Libby seized on the word. “Esther, who was after you that night? Was someone with Eli?”
Esther opened her eyes. Shook her head. “I…I don’t know. Why can’t I remember?” Her voice rose on the question.
Libby patted her. She shouldn’t have pressed. “It’s all right, Esther. You’ll remember when it’s time. Don’t be upset, or your mamm will scold me.”
The anxiety faded slowly from Esther’s face. “I’ll remember,” she repeated.
So close. Esther had definitely used the word them when she thought of that night. Did she really know who had been in the vehicle that hit her?
A tap sounded on the door frame. Libby turned to find Leah hovering there, as if afraid she was interrupting something.
“Hi, Leah. We were watching the little ones sliding.” She gestured toward the window. It probably wasn’t a good idea to let Leah or anyone else know that Esther had started to remember the night of the accident.
Leah’s mind was clearly on something else. “Bishop Amos is here, and Chief Byler. Daadi says will you komm, please, Libby?”
Libby nodded, rising. Adam. She wasn’t ready to see him again, but obviously she didn’t have a choice.
Leaving Leah with Esther, Libby went downstairs. As she passed through the enclosed porch between the daadi haus and the main house, she could hear the rumble of voices. The visitors were obviously in the kitchen.
She paused at the door, taking a deep breath. No more crumbling in front of Adam. He didn’t need to see any further evidence of her feelings.
At least no one would expect smiles and good cheer, as serious as the situation was. Steeling herself, she walked into the kitchen.
Bishop Amos, Isaac and Adam sat at the table, while Mary Ann filled mugs from the ever-present coffeepot. At the sight of her, Isaac gestured to an empty chair.
“Komm, sit. We must hear what is happening.”
Isaac’s face showed the strain he was under. What would it mean to the family if the money he’d invested was gone for good?
She sat down, nodding to Bishop Amos and letting her eyes skim past Adam. She wasn’t quite ready to meet his gaze full on yet. Bishop Amos looked fully as distressed as Isaac, the lines deep around his eyes.
“Denke, Mary Ann.” Bishop Amos nodded his thanks as Mary Ann put the mug of coffee in front of him and then focused on Adam. “We are ready to hear whatever you can tell us about this sad situation.”
Adam nodded, his gaze distracted as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Well, first of all, there seems no doubt that Eli Bredbenner was deliberately cheating the people he’d talked into investing.”
Bishop Amos shook his head gravely. “It is ser hard to believe that of a brother. Are you sure he didn’t chust make mistakes, as anyone might?”
Mistakes that included trying to kill Esther? Libby kept the question to herself.
Adam met the bishop’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say otherwise, but I can’t. He had never filed the necessary paperwork to form the corporation he talked about. He didn’t even have a clear title to that parcel of land in Maryland.”
She tried not to think of those moments when she’d lain in the snow, not knowing where Adam was or if the shooter was aiming at him.
“I don’t see how he thought he’d get away with it.” Isaac’s voice was rough, as if it hurt him to speak. “Sooner or later he would have to account to us for the money.”
“Maybe he didn’t plan to be around that long,” Adam said. “He may have thought to take off with the money before anyone grew suspicious, but it didn’t work out that way. Your sister began asking questions.”
“I should have listened to Esther from the beginning. Then maybe she would not have been hurt.” Tears filled Isaac’s eyes. Mary Ann put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“You can’t know that.” Libby had to reach out to him. Behind the beard, Isaac was still the boy she’d known. “Once Esther decided something was wrong, nothing would stop her from trying to make it right.”
“Ja, that’s true,” Bishop Amos said. “But what has happened to Eli? What does he say about his actions?”
“Nothing,” Adam said. “He hasn’t been back to his house since he left yesterday morning. He must be on the run.”
The bishop shook his head gravely. “What does his wife say?”
“She claims not to know anything about his business. And she seems genuinely worried about him. Apparently it’s not unusual for him to travel on business, but he’s always come back the same day.”
“Poor woman,” Mary Ann murmured. “This must be so hard for her. Is anyone with her?”
Of course that was the first thing Mary Ann would think of, even in the face of their trouble.
“Her congregation is supporting her,” Bishop Amos said. “There does not seem to be any other family, but she is staying with a neighbor.”
“Where would Eli go?” Isaac moved restlessly in his chair, as if needing to take some positive action. “Is his buggy accounted for?”
“The horse and buggy were found at the general store in Paradise,” Adam said. “No one seems to have any idea where he went from there. If he was the person who fired the shots at us yesterday, he had to have traveled by car, but none of his usual drivers admit to seeing him.”
Bishop Amos frowned. “How could he leave Paradise? There are no buses through there. Where would he go?”
They seemed to have come full circle. Where was Bredbenner?
“That’s the question,” Adam said. “You understand that there’s a warrant out for his arrest. If he’s seen, he will be arrested, and if anyone shelters him, that person would be guilty of a crime, also.”
“A crime in the Englisch courts,” Bishop Amos murmured.
“A crime,” Adam said firmly. “You wouldn’t encourage anyone to shield him after what he’s done, would you?”
“No, no. I am chust concerned for the state of Eli’s soul. I know he must pay the penalty for his crime to the courts, but we forgive him.”
Bishop Amos glanced at Isaac. Isaac’s lips clamped together, but he nodded. Forgiveness was the Amish way, no matter how difficult it might be.
“About someone hiding him…” Libby hesitated, wanting to reflect what Esther had said accurately. “Esther spoke to me about the accident just a short time ago. She said something about knowing she couldn’t outrun them.”
“Them?” Adam caught the word at once, of course. “She’s sure there was more than one?”
“When I asked if more than one person had been after her, if she knew who hurt her, the memory seemed to slip away.” Libby tried to avoid looking into Adam’s eyes as she spoke, but that was impossible. And impossible not to be hurt.
“I’d like to talk to her.” He half rose.
“No, don’t.” She put out her hand to stop him, careful not to touch him. “The little she did say tired her out, and she didn’t remember anything else. You can’t push her on it.”
“Ja, that’s so,” Mary Ann murmured. Isaac glanced at her, clearly surprised that she would offer an opinion in the presence of the bishop and the police chief.
Adam frowned, and Libby sensed the impatience that rode him. “All right. But tell me immediately if she remembers anything else.”
He was looking at her, so Libby nodded. She would, but if Esther confided in a family member, she wasn’t so sure that person would talk. That was yet another reason why she needed to be here.
; Bishop Amos frowned. “Even if Eli has done what you say, surely he would not have been driving a vehicle. And to harm a sister in the Lord…”
“People do things that are out of character when they’re desperate,” Adam said. “And plenty of Amish have driven at one time or another. Why not Bredbenner?”
The bishop sighed, palms up, indicating that he didn’t have an answer for that. “I suppose. But if the driver was Amish, a teenager seems more likely. I can’t deny that some of them have cars hidden from their parents.”
“The only way we’re going to get the answers we need is to find Eli Bredbenner.” Adam stood, reaching for his jacket. “We’re doing all we can, and if you hear anything at all, I hope you’ll get in touch with me. Eli will be a lot better off if he comes forward and tells the truth.”
“Ja, he will,” Bishop Amos said soberly, and Libby felt sure he was thinking of Eli confessing before the congregation, not in a court of law. “But there is something I must ask you before you leave.”
Adam paused, looking at the bishop with his eyebrows slightly raised.
“We are having a meeting this evening at the fire hall at seven for all of those who might be affected by the investment business. Too many rumors are flying around, and that is not gut.” Bishop Amos’s face drew tight. “We must talk together about it. If you could be there, I think it would be helpful.”
Adam nodded. “I’ll do my best. I’ll try to get at least one of the other investigators to come, as well.”
“Gut.” Bishop Amos stood. “I must go and spread the word about tonight.”
There was a little flurry of activity as Mary Ann brought the bishop’s coat and Isaac helped him put it on. Libby, standing, found herself too close to Adam.
“Excuse me.” She stepped past, trying not to look at him but unable to prevent herself. “I must get back to Esther.”
He nodded, looking as if he wanted to say something to her. Then his lips clamped shut, and he turned away.
Libby went quickly to the door into the enclosed porch, unable to breathe until she’d closed it behind her. This was more than difficult—it was impossible. Whatever her long-term plans might be, they certainly couldn’t include staying where she might run into Adam at any time. Even for her family she couldn’t do that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE TOWNSHIP FIRE hall might have seen odder meetings than this one, but Adam couldn’t think when. The Amish had begun filing in just before seven, as solemn as if they were walking into Sunday worship. Instead of separating into a men’s side and a women’s side, though, families sat together on the rows of metal folding chairs someone had set out. The chairs faced an empty table.
Adam stood at the back. He’d brought Donato along, but the state investigator was clearly out of his depth in a room full of Amish people. He kept stealing cautious glances at them, as if afraid to offend by staring.
“Bishop Amos will conduct the meeting.” Adam spoke under cover of low-voiced conversations in Pennsylvania Dutch. “Just don’t forget that we’re here at his invitation.”
Donato shifted from one foot to the other. “I can’t say I’ve ever been in on anything quite like this in my career.”
“Neither have most of these folks, I’d guess. It’s unusual, but these are odd circumstances.”
“If they’ve been swindled by Bredbenner, I’d rather interview them separately, someplace where I could take notes.” Donato shifted again, restless. “This isn’t how we do things.”
“Maybe not, but if you want cooperation from the Amish, you’ll have to let Bishop Amos run the show. Otherwise, you can ask for all the interviews you want, but no one will talk to you.”
“But they’ve been swindled.” Donato clearly didn’t understand. “Don’t they want to help put the perpetrator away? Don’t they want to retrieve their investments?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that simple.” He should have explained the Amish viewpoint to Donato, but the man hadn’t shown up until the last possible moment. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”
Donato nodded, but Adam didn’t miss the skepticism in his eyes. If he’d heard Bishop Amos talking about forgiveness this afternoon, he probably wouldn’t have understood that, either.
The Amish viewpoint was simple. If you wanted God to forgive you, you had to forgive others. Period. No waffling, no extenuating circumstances.
Libby had understood that without question, but she’d grown up close enough to Amish people to take that forgiveness of theirs for granted—or at least, to accept it.
He didn’t want to think about Libby, because that set his gut churning with all the things he’d gotten wrong. Better to concentrate on the job. That was the only side of his life he hadn’t managed to mess up.
Bishop Amos, along with the bishop from the Paradise church district, drew chairs up close to the waiting group.
The bishop closed his eyes for a moment, perhaps asking for guidance. Then he began to speak.
“We will talk tonight in Englisch, as we have guests who must be able to understand what we say.”
No one looked around, but Adam knew that every person in the room was aware of them.
“You are here because you have invested money with Eli Bredbenner. So many rumors have been flying around the community about Eli that it seemed right to bring us together to hear the facts. You will not wish to believe it, as I do not, but it seems clear that our brother Eli has acted wrongfully, falsely presenting his investment and taking your money.”
A low murmur swept through the group. Maybe they’d been hoping against hope that what they’d heard wasn’t true.
“Eli is not here to speak for himself,” Bishop Amos went on. “It appears that he has run away. I will ask Mr. Donato, an investigator from Harrisburg, to tell us what he can of this investment scheme.”
Donato walked to the front of the room, looking stiff and uncomfortable. He set a box on the table, sliding out some of the glossy folders and the prospectus they’d taken from Bredbenner’s files.
He turned, clearing his throat. “Thank you, Bishop Amos. We appreciate your cooperation.” He picked up one of the brochures, tapping it against his palm. “I wish I had better news for you, but after going through Mr. Bredbenner’s files, it seems clear that his entire investment scheme was just a scam.”
Donato paused, glancing around the room as if waiting for a response. There was none.
“That is, he was trying to take money from people without giving anything in return.” He held up the brochure. “These photographs, for instance, are not really of the site of the supposed resort. No development has taken place there, and there’s no sign any was ever planned.”
Joseph Miller, a local farmer who ran a lucrative greenhouse operation, cleared his throat. “But we saw the plans. All of us.” He looked around, and others nodded in agreement.
“Fakes,” Donato said. “Very clever fakes. Bredbenner apparently had the plans drawn up, but he never attempted to follow them. In fact, he never filed any of the paperwork with the state that would be required for such a development.”
“He told us that it was the state that was holding things up.” Miller seemed more willing to speak, maybe because of his own business experience.
“That’s not true.” Donato produced a thin smile. “I agree, the state often takes too long to process requests, but in this case, Bredbenner hadn’t even attempted to get the necessary permissions. It’s not clear that he owns the land in question.”
That was a blow. Adam could sense the truth sinking in as well as the despair that accompanied it.
“What about our money?” Isaac raised the question. “Will we get our money back?”
Donato spread his hands wide. “So far, we haven’t been able to find the money Bredbenner took from his investors. Either he has a hidden bank account under another name, or he took it with him when he went. If he’s found and any of the money recovered, some repayment will be made, but
it may take a long time for that to happen.”
He hesitated again, maybe expecting a reaction. There was none, at least not out loud.
“Well, now, I’m sure you want to know what efforts we’re making in that direction.” Donato spoke quickly, gesturing to Adam. “I’ll let Chief Byler discuss that aspect of it. If that’s all right.” He glanced toward the bishop, apparently remembering Adam’s words.
Bishop Amos nodded gravely.
Adam took his place at the front of the group, frowning at the brochures that still lay on the table. “As you may know, the police are actively looking for Eli Bredbenner. At the least, he has committed fraud. It is also possible that he has been involved in attacks on two people.”
A low murmur went through the crowd at that. Isaac and Mary Ann stared straight ahead, while Rebecca pressed her lips together, eyes downcast.
“If any of you have suggestions as to where Bredbenner could have gone, the police would appreciate your help. If you don’t care to speak to me, perhaps…” He glanced at Bishop Amos, who nodded.
“Ja. Tell me if you know anything.” The bishop’s face was grave. “You may feel that you don’t wish to be involved with the police, but remember that until our brother comes back and confesses his sin, he will not be right with God.”
Adam read reserve on some faces, but there were those in the crowd who nodded. He could only hope they were the ones who knew something.
“Are there any questions you’d like to ask?” He didn’t expect there to be, and there weren’t. He nodded and went back to join Donato.
“That’s it?” Donato’s eyebrows rose. “The last time I had to attend a meeting of victims, I was nearly deafened from the yelling and screaming and blaming that went on. Won’t these people miss the money Bredbenner took?”
“They’ll miss it, all right. But they’ll help each other. That’s the Amish way.”
“What I don’t get is how Bredbenner has managed to disappear so completely.” Donato sounded fretful. “I figured somebody as unsophisticated as an Amish man would trip up in a matter of hours.”