The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(16)

Before Aaron Weston had the chance to say anything further about Jared Helm’s righteousness, Kurt asked, “When did she tell you about all of this? How recently?” He wasn’t taking notes during the conversation, but he kept glancing at the notepad on his desk. He never put anything on the computer, but he did take notes after an interview was finished. To keep things fresh in his mind when he prayed, he said. Suddenly, I wondered if he was doing it for legal reasons. Would Kurt be called to testify if this came to court?

“We knew something was wrong shortly after they got married,” Aaron Weston said. “We tried to get her alone to talk about it openly, but it was difficult. It took months. Jared would not let her meet anyone privately, not even us, her parents. Even when we thought we had made arrangements to talk to her alone, he would appear halfway through, or we would find out that he was eavesdropping. She was never able to talk candidly about why exactly she was not happy.” At this point, Aaron nodded to prompt his wife again.

“I thought he had certain appetites,” said Judy. She left the rest unsaid. Sexual appetites, obviously. But we Mormons never speak about that.

I hated the feeling of helplessness that seeped into my bones like cold. What I wanted to do most was go to Jared Helm’s house and take Kelly home with me. That little girl, who had sat on my lap and tried to plunk out notes on the piano before her father stopped her, had settled into my heart. The power struggle between Carrie’s father and her husband was of little interest to me, two men strutting about and comparing their size to each other. Judy Weston had barely said a word, and only when prompted by her husband.

“And when did you hear the rest of it?” asked Kurt.

“She wrote a letter to us only the day before she disappeared,” said Aaron Weston. “She said that she was tired of living with Jared’s outbursts and his judgments, and that she was going to run away. With Kelly, of course. She said that she was leaving Jared and that she hoped we would protect her confidence as long as we could. And she warned us that she would not be able to communicate with us for some time. She told us to pray for her and for Kelly to be safe.” He turned to his wife.

She opened her purse and took out a letter. I didn’t know anything about Carrie’s handwriting, but it was a real letter, written by hand, not emailed. Email would be too easy for Jared Helm to read.

Kurt read it, and I stood up and moved so I could look over his shoulder. Aaron Weston had summarized it adequately. My stomach twisted at the strange ideas that Carrie listed that Jared believed in. Polygamy for one, which some Mormons still thought might be reinstituted, in the afterlife. But Jared Helm took it further, according to Carrie. He thought that he could make a list of women who would be his in the afterlife.

He also thought women were born evil, more worldly minded, and that he had a duty to “tame” his wife and his daughter, whatever that meant. He went on tirades about the clothing Carrie wore because it was not modest enough, nor was the clothing she bought their daughter. But I had never seen Carrie Helm wear anything that was remotely immodest. She had always seemed well dressed, but a little formal for a woman her age. Now I suppose I knew why.

“You have gone to the police then?” said Kurt.

I was still standing, feeling too much negative energy to sit back down. I wanted to scream and kick and tear at things. Instead, I clenched my fists.

“We did. But she has not been gone long enough for them to declare her missing. And there is no evidence of any foul play. They say that a letter alone is not enough to pursue Jared criminally. They need more than that. They need some proof that she has been harmed and isn’t just a troubled woman who left her husband and daughter.” This last Aaron Weston got out with difficulty, each word thrust out from behind his teeth.

“And what would you like me to do?” asked Kurt.

I wanted him to look at me so he could see the fury in my eyes. If I could have reached his hand, I would have gripped it so hard he could not possibly have ignored me. Something had to be done. When Jared Helm had brought Kelly here, Kurt had believed his story, had thought of him as the wronged husband. Somehow, as the bishop, Kurt should have known the truth behind Jared Helm’s lies. It made me angry at God somehow that he hadn’t.

“Find her,” said Judy Weston, but to me, not to Kurt. “Please, find her.” She was gasping, but she was not weeping. Her face was clear and insistent.

One mother who was desperate for her daughter’s return to another mother who would never have hers back.

“You think that she has been harmed?” asked Kurt.

“There is no other reason she would leave her daughter. She has to have been hurt. Possibly—” Aaron Weston didn’t finish.

But if Carrie Helm was dead, then I had no more chance to help her. I would have to admit I had failed her. I could not do that.

If she had lived, my daughter would have been in her twenties now, only a few years younger than Carrie Helm. She had been born between Joseph and Kenneth, but we had never brought her home from the hospital. My doctor at the time had said anything might have caused my daughter’s death, maybe my taking cold medicine before I knew I was pregnant, or letting my body temperature get too high in a hot tub when Kurt and I were on vacation for a week when I first found out I was expecting. I had no way of knowing if it was my fault or not, or if I would ever see that daughter again in the afterlife.