The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(21)

“I don’t think they knew anything, but they’re the youngest and most vulnerable. They look like church leaders on camera to some extent, in ties and white shirts and suits. I told them not to speak to any reporters,” said Kurt. “I gave them strict instructions before they left the church.”

“I saw at least one of them on camera,” I said. Maybe it wasn’t keeping the Sabbath holy to watch the news, but I often did anyway.

Samuel made a face. “I bet I can guess which one, too.”

Samuel did not always get along with the other young men in the ward, though it was often for reasons that I sympathized with. There are certain teenage boys who are forces of nature, and it is only going on a mission that tames them. Though heaven help the mission president who ends up with them on his roster.

“You could make sure he regrets it,” Samuel offered with a smile. “He could get called into the priests quorum. Or be called as one of the young men who help the Cub Scouts. Or he could be asked to organize a special service project.”

“Thanks for the ideas,” said Kurt. “But I think I will let the Lord offer suggestions instead, Samuel.” He pushed his plate away. I had made a fine dinner of chicken fettuccine with fresh rosemary in the sauce and tiny peas on the side, but I didn’t think it mattered how well I cooked now that Kurt was bishop and had other things on his mind. “Isn’t it time for you to be in bed?” Kurt said to Samuel. “It’s a school night.”

“It’s not even nine,” said Samuel. “And I’m not a little kid anymore. I know when I need to go to sleep.”

“Bedroom, then. Quiet time,” said Kurt.

When Kurt and I were left in the kitchen, I said, “You’re worried about something else.”

Kurt stood and bused his dish. “If Jared and Kelly Helm can’t come to church, I feel like they might slip through the cracks.” He stared at the refrigerator as if he expected a note about Jared and Kelly Helm to magically appear there.

“You mean, no one from the ward will be able to check on them.”

“Yes.” Kurt looked up at me and I realized he was thinking something he couldn’t say. I was worried about Kelly, but Kurt’s mind was hierarchical.

“You think Jared might do something?” I asked. “To himself?” Jared Helm hadn’t struck me as the kind of man who would easily become despondent. But with his wife gone, his daughter entirely dependent on him, his job slipping away, and now being trapped in his house by the news reporters outside—I had not considered any of this when I told the Westons to go to the press about Carrie.

When the Westons came to talk to us in Kurt’s office, I had been so sure that Jared had killed Carrie. But since then, I’d developed doubts. I’d seen that Jared Helm was controlling, and I believed he had whacky political ideas. He was inflexible and arrogant, as I’d had plenty of chances to see in church. But that didn’t necessarily mean he was a murderer. Whatever Carrie’s letter had said, it wasn’t proof of anything but her state of mind. She had been afraid of him, but had she believed he would kill her? And even if she’d believed it, did that make it true?

If he was innocent, then I had caused a lot of problems for a man who was trying to be a good father in the way he knew how. I had ultimately created a situation where Kelly could not go to church.

“I don’t know what to think,” said Kurt. “But I know that we’re in a ward so we can look out for each other, and now I’ve asked Jared Helm to sacrifice his fellowship in the ward for the sake of the rest of us. Now, when he might need us the most. I feel terrible about it.”

Kurt felt like anything that happened on his watch was his burden to bear, not only in this life but in the one to come. Priesthood authority had that disadvantage. God expects an accounting for those under your care, and so Kurt would never blame me for what I had done, since he had stood by and let me do it. I was his wife and if he could not use gentle persuasion to convince me he was right, it was his problem.

“I could bring him a homemade loaf of bread,” I suggested, and wrote Jared Helm on a note to put on the fridge myself. “That might at least get me in the door.”

“Thank you,” said Kurt, closing his hand around mine as I put a magnet in place.

I was more concerned about Kelly than Jared, but isolation wasn’t going to make him a better father. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see him yourself?”

Kurt shook his head. “If it’s a visit from the bishop, it’s official. He’d be on guard. But you have a much better chance of seeing what is actually going on there.”

I would be all but invisible to Jared Helm, who wouldn’t respect me enough to imagine I had any ulterior motive. Kurt was telling me quite clearly that he, Kurt, did respect me as his partner in this, that he valued and relied on my abilities. My husband knew exactly how to push my buttons.

“So you’re starting to think he might have done something to Carrie?” I asked after a moment.

He sighed. “I don’t know what to think, honestly.”

“Whatever the truth is, by refusing to speak to the police, Jared isn’t acting like an innocent man,” I said. The public response to the Westons’ televised appeal had been enough for Carrie Helm’s disappearance to be upgraded to “suspicious” and for there to be an official investigation opened.