The Bishop’s Wife (Linda Wallheim Mystery, #1)(25)

“I don’t want to think the worst of him, but he’s making it difficult.” He sighed, and kept at his organizing.

For whatever reason, Kurt and I both tended to clean when we got upset. It made for a very clean house when we were having extended arguments.

“Maybe he’s just a jerk,” I said, trying to ease Kurt’s mind. “Maybe he’s a bad husband, but not a murderer. He seemed so devoted to Kelly when I brought the bread over.”

“If he’s just a jerk, then where is Carrie?”

It was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

“What about his job?” I asked. “He can’t be earning money if he’s at home all day.”

“I asked him about that several days ago, if he needed any church assistance. He said that he could work from home for a while and promised he would tell me if he got into any financial trouble. Apparently he works for his father’s business, and it’s all programming stuff that he can do remotely.”

“Well, it can’t stay like this forever, with all those news vans. The story is going to get old and they’ll go home,” I said.

“And what does that mean for the chance of finding Carrie Helm?” said Kurt. His desk was now clean. If he wanted to do more cleaning, we’d have to move someplace else. Unless he wanted to get out the vacuum.

“If she’s dead, they will have to find her eventually. Bodies don’t just disappear,” I said.

“This is Utah,” said Kurt. “Do you know how many millions of acres of untouched land there are in this state?”

I felt sick at the thought that Kurt on some level had come to the same conclusion I had, that Jared Helm had killed Carrie and then disposed of the body somewhere. I kept questioning my first instinct on this, but what if I had been right from the beginning? What if the Spirit had been speaking to me and telling me what to think about Jared? What if Kurt was finally feeling the same spiritual impression?

“There would have to be evidence somewhere,” I said. “Some video camera at a gas station. Someone who saw him buying something at a store.” I was trying to think like a detective, like a professional, and not just a bishop’s wife.

Kurt folded his hands together, as if coming to a decision. “But in any case, that’s something for the police to deal with,” said Kurt. “I’m in charge of Jared and Kelly’s spiritual welfare.”

“Not Carrie’s?” I asked.

Kurt flushed. “Carrie has left the ward, so no, I’m not her bishop now. Unless she comes back.”

That seemed rather cold. Though technically, it was true. Kurt’s obligation was to a specific geographical flock. “And if she’s dead? And died while in our ward?”

“Then God will take care of her better than I could. I deal with the living,” said Kurt. “We all have our roles, and we should stick to them.”

We moved back to the kitchen and called Samuel for dinner. But as they chattered about school and Samuel’s upcoming dance, I could not help but think about Carrie and what my obligation to her was. I had felt that immediate protectiveness toward Kelly, in part because she was so young, but did we simply give up on Carrie? Did we turn our backs on those who left the church, even if they remained in need?

Kurt liked coloring inside the lines. It had worked well for him his whole life. And generally, I’d done the same. But it didn’t feel right in this instance.





CHAPTER 9




Cheri Tate called me on Wednesday to tell me about her plans for the next weekday Relief Society meeting, which would be in March.

“You know you don’t need my approval, right?” I asked. Even Kurt’s approval was only a technicality. Woe betide any bishop who told the Relief Society president she couldn’t do a meeting on the theme she had selected. She had been given the right to revelation for her specific needs when Kurt put his hands on her head and set her apart. Women don’t have official authority in the Mormon church, but any man who ignores the real power of women in the church is an idiot. Kurt is not an idiot.

“I wasn’t looking for approval. Just your opinion,” said Cheri. “And maybe any advice you have to offer.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“I’d like the topic to be about domestic violence,” she said quietly.

Ah. Now I understood her concern. That was a difficult topic, not the usual Relief Society meeting about Easter crafts or filling your lantern with the light of service. “It might be wise to wait until the Carrie Helm case has been resolved,” I said.

“Yes,” said Cheri. “It might be wiser. But then people would be less interested. We would get fewer women coming out, and the very people we are trying to protect might not hear the message.”

Also a good point. “How can I help?” I asked. Cheri and I were not of one mind about many things, but I was impressed with her foresight here. Not to mention her courage.

“I’d like you to come speak, if you would.”

“Me? I don’t know anything about domestic violence.”

“Well, that’s what everyone is going to say, isn’t it? I was hoping you could do some research and talk about some of the warning signs to look for when dating, or early on in marriage. I was going to talk about what to do if you’re sure you are being abused. Hotline numbers to call, people to confide in, the steps to take to protect yourself, and how to make the final moves.”