A Prayer for the Night (12 page)

“Is it Jeremiah Miller she likes?”

“Yes.”

“They’re pretty serious, Jeremiah and Sara?”

“I guess. She would do just about anything for him.”

“Oh?”

“All the boys want sex. That’s pretty normal. And our parties get to be wild, sometimes. But, I figure, ten years from now, I’m going to be living right here with the rest of them. How am I going to feel about things, then, if I sleep around now? It’s not like I’m going to move to China.”

“But you do go to the parties?”

“Everybody likes to have a little fun, Mr. Branden.”

Branden waited for Mary to explain.

Mary said, “I’m probably going to have ten kids. I can see that, just looking around. It’s OK to have a little fun before you marry. It’s your only chance. But I don’t get smashed like the boys.”

“But, Mary, there are evidently drugs as well as alcohol at your parties.”

“There’s only a few who really want the drugs. The other kids just go along. Experiment a little. Mostly everybody just gets drunk. Sleeps it off. But I don’t do the drugs. Don’t want my babies to have birth defects. Nobody does.”

“Did John and Abe always have the drugs, or is that a recent thing?”

“John has been talking a lot lately about cocaine. You know, coke. You sniff it in your nose. He got enough, somehow, so he could sell it around. He and Abe were pretty strong on that stuff. But not everybody was. Not me, anyways.”

“You seem pretty reasonable about it.”

“It’s not like
I
can move to Kansas.”

“What do you mean?”

“To get married. My parents want to drive me up to Middlefield. We have relatives there, and they know an Amish man who wants to get married. They want me to meet him. But that’s just up to Middlefield. Henry Erb, now, he wants to move to Kansas. But he can do that. He’s got a car, and his folks let him keep the money he earns. He can do anything he wants here and then go to Kansas to look for a wife. He’s already been out there, on the bus, once. So, right now, he’s living high, wide, and handsome, and he’s not going to marry any of us Saltillo girls.”

“Would you marry someone from Middlefield?” Branden asked.

“If he’s a nice man, why not? If he’s good to me and the kids, a good provider, then I’ll have a good life. I want to be close enough that I can come home to visit. See all my little sisters and brothers. Families are important, and Middlefield isn’t too far.”

“You’d be happy with an arranged marriage?”

“I’d sure expect to get to know him first. But everybody wants to be happy. Raise a good family. As far as that goes, it means I’d have to stay Amish. Marry a good Amish man. And I’ve seen enough of the English world to know that they aren’t happy. All the modern things they have, and they are not happy. Not very many are, anyways. And that isn’t anything that drugs, sex, or alcohol can fix. No.

“I’ve had a little fun, OK? That’s that. I don’t need to see any more of the world. I’m going to take that drive up to Middlefield. Get serious about having a life. I’d made that decision even before Johnny got killed. That’s why I told the bishop I wanted to be the first to talk today. I’ve had enough running wild for a lifetime. I don’t need a cell phone, parties, anything like that. Not anymore. I’m going home to tell my parents I’ll go to Middlefield. I’ve got relatives there, and I can stay a while. Meet someone nice. Get to know him. Make a life.”

 

HENRY ERB came into Interview A and sat glumly in the single chair at the end of the table. He slumped somewhat in the chair, trying for a casual pose, but his gaze darted about the room, and he fidgeted nervously with his fingers in his lap.

Branden said, “Interview with the sheriff didn’t go so well, Henry?”

Erb shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not going to talk about drugs. I don’t have to say anything.”

Niell said, “We’re not interested in drugs,” and moved his chair down to Erb’s end of the table.

Henry sat up, a weary curiosity showing in his expression.

Branden indicated Niell’s move and asked, “May I?”

Erb raised his palms agreeably and said, “If it suits you.”

Branden moved his chair to Erb’s end of the table, and sat opposite Niell. “Henry,” he said, “we’re worried about Sara Yoder.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“You may know who took her,” Niell said mildly.

Erb raised his brows and said, “I’m not thinking anyone actually took her.”

Branden waited a beat, studying Erb’s expression, and said, “The younger Yoder kids said some English strangers forced her into a car.”

“I wouldn’t be thinking they were strangers to Sara,” Erb said.

Branden glanced at Niell, and frowned.

Tentatively, Erb asked, “It was Sara who told you about John Schlabaugh?”

“She showed us the barn,” Branden said. “I’m not sure she knew his body was buried there when she called Cal.”

“And she told you about drugs?”

“She said John Schlabaugh and Abe Yoder made a big drug deal with some Columbus outfit.”

Erb drummed his fingers lightly on the table and said, “Are you sure you can trust what she told you?”

Branden pushed his chair back slightly from the table, putting some distance between him and Erb, and asked, “Is there a reason she’d tell us something wrong?”

Erb shrugged and smiled wanly, suggesting he knew more. “She’s in love with one of the boys,” he said forlornly, eyes fixed on the professor. “Not with the right one.”

Branden held his stare. “Jeremiah Miller?” he asked.

“I’m not saying yes, and I’m not saying no. I’m just saying that John and Abe weren’t the only ones involved in a drug deal.”

Niell asked, “Do you think Sara would lie to protect Jeremiah?”

Erb tipped his head sideways, saying, “I’m not thinking that Sara is someone I can trust. That you can trust, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” Branden asked.

“I’m just saying that maybe the people who came for Sara weren’t strangers to her.”

“Are you saying that Sara is dealing drugs herself?” Niell asked.

“I’m not going to talk about any drugs,” Erb said, slumping again in his chair. “I really can’t tell you anything more.”

ANDY STUTZMAN tripped on his own feet when he came into the room and fell forward, catching himself on the top of the metal table and dropping into the chair beside Professor Branden. Ellie poked her head through the doorway and said, “Andy Stutzman,” by way of introduction.

Stutzman wiped his long blue sleeve across his lips, and slurred out, “Johnny Schlabaugh wasn’t a bad person. They shouldn’t talk about him that way.”

Branden and Niell exchanged glances.

Andy sat glumly in his chair and focused his eyes, with difficulty, on the thin edge of the metal table. He gripped the armrests of his chair as if he needed a prop to sit up straight. He was a small man, with long black hair pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. He had sideburns as long as muttonchops, but no wider than a nail, and he was growing the ghost of a mustache, though evidently not having much success at it. He stank of beer.

Branden leaned forward and touched Stutzman’s forearm lightly. Stutzman jerked his arm away.

Branden said, “Are you going to be OK, Andy?”

Stutzman craned his gaze around to find Branden and said, “I’m doing fine, just fine.”

Branden smiled and looked at Ricky, shaking his head furtively. Niell gave a nod and said, “Maybe we should do this later, Mr. Stutzman.”

Andy shouted, “Do it now!” and then said, more quietly, “I’m good to go. Got no trouble at all.”

Branden asked, “Can you think where Sara Yoder might be?”

“Naw.”

Niell said, “Can you tell us who she might have gone off with?”

Nothing from Stutzman but a blank, unfocused stare into middle space.

Branden said, “You do know that John Schlabaugh has been murdered?”

Stutzman groaned, “Why does everybody keep reminding me of that?”

“What’s wrong, Andy?” Branden said.

“Wrong? Nothin’s wrong. Just, is all, you know. The best guy in the world, Johnny Schlabaugh.”

“You liked him a lot,” Niell said. “Why not help us find who killed him?”

“Loved him! Best friend in the world. Johnny knew how to live! Knew fun, Johnny Schlabaugh. Best guy in the world.”

Branden got Niell’s attention and gave a sad shake of his head.

“OK, Andy,” Niell said. “That’s going to be all for today.”

 

THE other two boys, Ben Troyer and John Miller, each took their walks down to Interview B and then Interview A, and after an hour, the men and Ellie had finished talking with all of them. Robertson parked Niell and Branden in his office and walked Ellie down to her counter. Bishop Raber was still there, but all the kids had left. Robertson smiled and said, “I appreciate your help, Bishop.”

Raber nodded wordlessly, and turned to leave. Reconsidering, he turned back to Robertson and said, “Did they tell you anything that will be useful in finding Sara Yoder?”

Robertson said, “If they did, it will have been in the second interview with Sergeant Niell and the professor. That’s what we’re going to talk about now.”

“If they need to tell you more?” Raber asked.

“I’ll get in touch with you. How can I reach you?”

“Cal Troyer is going to stay with us for a few days. You can call his cell phone.”

With Niell and Branden back in his office, Robertson said, “I got nothing. What’d you two get?”

“We can forget Andy Stutzman for now,” Branden said.

Robertson nodded. “Clearly.”

“We got a weird something from Henry Erb,” Ricky said.

Robertson waited.

Niell said, “Henry Erb suggested that Sara and Jeremiah were more involved in the drug business than Sara Yoder indicated to the professor.”

“He’s in love with her, too,” Branden said. “I don’t know how much we can trust him.”

“What else did you get?” Robertson asked. “From the other kids.”

Ricky took a straight-backed chair in front of Robertson’s desk and said, “They all knew that John Schlabaugh and Abe Yoder had set themselves up to sell cheap drugs. Some of them were afraid, getting out of the mix while they could. Going back home, so to speak.”

“Others weren’t?” Robertson asked.

“There were a couple of cool ones,” Branden said. “They sat in the chair at the far end of the table. Didn’t really open up. But, we did get that John and Abe made a big buy from an outfit down by Columbus. And Henry Erb said that Sara and Jeremiah Miller had some of that action, too. Or words to that effect.”

“You notice who was absent, Mike?” Robertson said.

“Jeremiah Miller.”

“Don’t you think that means something?”

Branden nodded pensively. “I’ll go out to see him,” he said. “Bring him back so you can have a talk with him.”

“You’ve kept in touch with the Millers?”

“Caroline and I go out there for dinner once or twice a year. Jeremiah has always been shy around us.”

“Is his granddaddy still the bishop?” Robertson asked.

“No,” Branden said. “He died a few months back. Cal says Jeremiah wants to marry Sara Yoder.”

Robertson said, “Then I’d expect him to be more forthcoming. Unless this Erb is right, and Jeremiah and Sara are part of the whole deal.”

Ellie came in and said, “Here’s that tape, Sheriff.” She slid it into a video deck on the shelves behind Robertson’s desk and punched Play.

On the screen, there was a long zoom shot across a parking lot with cars and pickup trucks. It was late afternoon or early evening, judging by the shadows. Over beside a brick wall, John Schlabaugh talked with a big redheaded man in jeans and a black leather vest. There was only faint audio, the rapid breathing of the person shooting the video. The man handed Schlabaugh a leather briefcase, looked around briefly at the parked cars, and turned and walked around the corner of the building. The video camera shook and then shut off as a soft voice whispered something celebratory in Dutch dialect.

Ellie switched the player off, and Branden said, “That’s the briefcase we found at the cabin with Abe Yoder.”

“I didn’t see any money change hands,” Ricky said.

“Maybe they’d paid for the drugs earlier,” Branden said.

“More likely, they took the drugs on credit,” Robertson said. “Dealers work it that way to get their hooks into you.”

“Would those kids be that naive?” Ricky asked.

“And who shot the video?” Robertson asked.

“I’m guessing it was Abe Yoder,” Branden said.

“If you take this Erb seriously,” Robertson said, “it could equally have been Sara or Jeremiah.”

Ellie said, “Stan Armbruster called with the location of those GPS coordinates from Yoder’s cell phone.”

“Where’s he at?” Robertson asked.