Read Unbreakable Online

Authors: Nancy Mehl

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC042060, #FIC042000, #Kansas—Fiction, #Mennonites—Fiction, #Violent crimes—Fiction, #Nonviolence—Fiction, #Ambivalence—Fiction

Unbreakable (7 page)

BOOK: Unbreakable
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“Hi, Tom.”

I looked around and saw Sophie sitting at a table on the other side of the room, a rather coy expression on her face. Tom looked close to Sophie's age, so I assumed they knew
each other from the school in Washington where Kingdom children had gone before we'd gotten our own school.

Tom only glanced at her and then turned his attention back to me. Sophie glared first at him and then at me. I tried to focus on the sheriff while ignoring his son.

Then I noticed that my father was standing near the door with two covered plates in his hands. Our supper. His eyes were fastened on Ford just like everyone else's in the room. All conversation had ground to a halt.

“I'm right sorry, folks,” Ford began, “but I . . . I have some bad news for you.” He pulled off his hat. His balding pate was stark white, yet the skin on his forehead and face was red with sunburn. Obviously the sheriff wore his hat a lot. He began to twirl that hat around in his big beefy hands. With every turn, my heart skipped a beat. “It . . . it's Avery Menninger,” he said finally. “I'm afraid he's dead.”

C
HAPTER
 / 4

There were several seconds
of complete silence until finally someone cried out. It was Lizzie. She slumped down into a chair and began to cry softly. Papa set our plates down on a nearby table.

“What happened, Sheriff?” Noah's expression was grim.

“Someone ran him off the road. His horse must have bolted, and his buggy flipped. Threw him out. Poor old guy never had a chance.”

The news hit me like a ton of bricks, and I sank down to the floor without even realizing it. It had to have been the man in the red truck. Whether it was on purpose or not, he'd finally killed someone. Avery.

Papa hurried over to me, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He didn't say a word, just held me.

“I-I didn't mean to upset the young lady so much,” Ford said. The distress on his face seemed real. He didn't know many people in Kingdom personally, but he'd met Avery a few months ago when a body was discovered on the road that
led to Kingdom. It was difficult not to like Avery Menninger. Even for the sheriff.

“Hope was almost run over this afternoon on that same road, Sheriff,” Noah said, pointing at me. “I'll bet it's the same man.”

Ford scratched his head. “Well, it coulda been an accident. Those buggies aren't fit for the road. Just a little bump and they fold up like a cheap lawn chair.”

I flushed with anger. “This was no accident, Sheriff. That's too much of a coincidence.”

He folded his hefty arms across his massive chest. “Young lady, if you was almost struck by a vehicle, why didn't you call the Sheriff's Department? That don't make much sense, now does it?”

Tom sniggered as if Ford's statement were humorous. The sheriff swung around and slapped his son on the face. Several people in the room jumped at the sound. Tom put his hand on his cheek, his features locked in a grimace of rage and humiliation.

“You shut your mouth, boy,” Ford growled. “There's nothin' funny about this. A man's dead. A good man.”

Tom's eyes locked on mine, his eyes burning with anger. I felt as if he somehow blamed me for his father's actions.

The sheriff stuck his finger in his son's face. “You get yourself out to my car, Tom. Right now. And you wait there until I'm done here.”

With one last hateful look, Tom spun on his heels and walked out the front door, slamming it so hard the windows rattled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sophie sneak out behind him.

I struggled to my feet, Papa helping me up. An unusual boldness, fueled by exasperation, filled me. “Whether I should have called you to report what happened has nothing to do with anything,” I said forcefully. “I'm telling you that someone tried to run me over on the very same road. And on the same day. You need to look for the driver of a red truck. It's obvious he's the person who killed our friend.”

Ford scowled at me. “I don't need you to tell me my job. I'll be lookin' into it. If we've got some idiot out there playin' cat and mouse with anyone, even you people, I'll get to the bottom of it.” He snorted. “But I'm gonna need a little more to go on than just tellin' me it was a red truck. We got lots and lots of red trucks in this county, miss.”

“It was a Ford, Sheriff. Red, like Hope said.”

Everyone turned and looked toward the front of the room. Jonathon had come in unnoticed. His face was pale. “Tinted windows on the sides. Caught a glimpse of the driver through the windshield, but I couldn't see his face. He was wearing a cap, some kind of ball cap, pulled down low. Nothing really unusual about the truck that I can remember. Pretty standard. Except the driver's door might have been dented. I'm not sure if it was the sun's reflection or if there was an actual dent. I was busy trying to get his attention off Hope.”

“And just who are you, young man?” Ford said, looking displeased. If he really wanted more information, he should have been happy to find someone who could offer it.

“I'm Jonathon Wiese, and I was there this afternoon when this man tried to kill Hope.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Ford snapped. “Just because some yahoo decides to have a little fun with a lady in a buggy don't
mean he was trying to kill her. And it also don't mean he's the same one who caused Mr. Menninger's accident.”

Jonathon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Look, Sheriff. One of our residents has been threatened. Another one is dead. This is serious. For once, why don't you put out a little effort and find out who's behind this? You're supposed to protect the people in this county. Even us.”

His reference to the sheriff's previous comment seemed to send Ford over the edge. His already red face darkened. “I don't need no sissy boy Mennie tellin' me what my job is. I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.” He slapped his hat back on his head. “I'm gonna look into this, but you all better think about this long and hard. I know you like your privacy. If this really was done on purpose, the news will spread like wildfire. You'll be in the paper, and the media will swarm all over here. Kingdom won't be a secret no more. Trust me.”

His remark seemed to hit home. Even Jonathon took a step back. I knew the sheriff didn't like us, but I got the feeling his statement was sincere. Then he pointed at Jonathon. “Just for your information, boy, I liked Avery Menninger very much. If I find out someone ran him off the road on purpose, I won't rest until they're brought to justice.”

Once again, I heard a note of sincerity in his voice.

Jonathon opened his mouth to say something else, but Papa held up his hand. “We thank you for your assistance, Sheriff. Anything you can do to help will be appreciated. We will need to contact his daughter, Berlene, and let her know what has happened. Where is . . . Avery now?”

Ford was still staring at Jonathon, sizing him up as if
debating whether to let him off the hook or dress him down a little more. Luckily for Jonathon, he turned his attention to my father. “Mr. Menninger is at Doc McDaniels' in Washington. His family should call the doc to arrange for burial.”

“Wait a minute, Sheriff,” Noah said. “If Avery's death turns out to be more than an accident, won't his body need to go to the coroner's office?”

Ford's right eyebrow shot up. “You tellin' me my job, son?”

Noah frowned. “No. I'm just asking.”

“According to Doc, Mr. Menninger was killed by blunt force trauma due to the accident. There ain't no clues anyone can get from his body at this point. Besides, Doc McDaniels serves as the coroner in this area.” He frowned at Noah. “You don't need to worry about autopsies and clues, boy. This ain't CSI, you know.”

I'm sure the puzzled looks on our faces caught the sheriff by surprise. He snorted. “Oh, sorry. Guess you people don't watch TV. I'm just tryin' to tell you that the injuries to your friend don't need no further investigation. They won't tell us anything that would help us catch the guy who did this.”

Papa shot Noah and Jonathon a warning look. “Again, thank you, Sheriff. We do not wish to take any more of your time.”

Jonathon's expression turned stormy as he glared at Papa.

The lawman nodded. “I understand. You're wise to keep this to yourselves. Won't do nobody no good to get the Feds pokin' around in here. And with the recent harassment of churches and church folks, makin' a big noise will only drop a big red target right in the middle of this town.” He nodded at Papa. “Good thing these people have someone like
you lookin' after them. Somebody reasonable.” With that, he turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him. I looked outside and saw Sophie leaning in the sheriff's car, talking to Tom. When the sheriff approached his car, he said something, and Sophie jumped back as if he'd hit her.

Suddenly Jonathon exploded at Papa. “How could you let him get away with that? We can't trust him to really investigate Avery's murder. What if he lets the killer walk free?”

“I do not believe the sheriff will do that,” Papa said. “His advice about opening ourselves up to the world's scrutiny was wise and for our benefit. We cannot allow ourselves to lose what we have fought so hard to protect. A safe place where our people are not forced to accept the sin and violence in the world. We'll have to leave this in the Lord's hands. Vengeance does not belong to us.”

“The violence in the world?” Noah said, a note of incredulity in his tone. “Violence has touched Kingdom, Samuel. Avery is dead. Our dear friend is dead.”

“Noah's right,” Jonathon interjected. “We need to protect ourselves. We can't sit around and let men with wicked intentions pick us off one by one.”

“Yes, Avery is dead,” Papa exclaimed, “and you want to start a war with the men who killed him? How many more of us will end up like our brother? And what will we lose if we pursue this?” He stared at Jonathon, his expression stony. “What would Avery want us to do, Jonathon? He loved this town, and he loved our people. Do you not realize that he would tell us to respond with love and forgiveness? To turn the other cheek? I can assure you that Avery is with God now. He is not looking for any kind of revenge.”

Jonathon started to respond but before he could get a word out, the front door swung open, and Sheriff Ford came in again.

“I forgot somethin',” he said. “Mr. Menninger had this with him when we found him.” He pulled the door open, and a small border collie slunk into the dining room.

“Beau!” Papa said. “I didn't even think to ask about him.”

Avery's best friend lay on the floor, trembling and frightened.

“I can take him to the pound, but that'll probably be the last place he'll ever see,” Ford said. “If none of you wants him . . .”

Everyone in the room was silent as we stared at the small black and white dog. I felt as if my already tattered heart were being torn into little pieces as he looked back at our assembled group, the terror of losing his beloved master evident in his eyes.

“I will take the dog,” Papa said suddenly. “It is the least I can do for Avery.”

I stared at my father in surprise. I'd been pleading for a dog ever since I was six, and Papa had always said no.
“Dogs are too much trouble,”
he'd say.
“They are dirty, and they tear things up. We don't need one.”
Ruth Fisher, one of Kingdom's oldest residents, told me once that when she was a girl, most Mennonite people she knew viewed all animals as livestock. Hardly anyone had pets. But down through the years, things had shifted. Some of it had to do with hard-hearted people dumping unwanted animals off in the country. Many of them wandered into Kingdom, and every one of them found a home. Now there were all kinds of dogs and cats running
around town. Regardless, my father had held firm to his old viewpoint. Until today.

“That's fine then,” Ford said. He turned and walked out the door. I watched him trod down the steps to his car. Sophie stood on the sidewalk and stared at the vehicle as it drove away.

“Now, before you two start arguing again,” Noah said to Jonathon and Papa, “I've called for an elders' meeting. We'll decide what needs to be done”—he frowned at Papa— “or not done about this situation. But for now, someone needs to contact Berlene and tell her about Avery.” He looked at Lizzie, who was much more composed now. “Do you have her number?”

She nodded. “It's in Cora's phonebook.”

“Good. If you'll show me where it is, I'll make the call.”

They got up and left the room. Papa stood up and walked over to where Beau lay cowering on the floor. “Come here, Beau,” he said in a gentle but firm voice.

The anxious dog stood slowly to his feet and took a few tentative steps toward Papa. Then he sat down next to his right leg.

“Avery would be grateful to know you took Beau,” Jonathon said. “You're a decent man, Samuel. I'm sorry you don't like me. I wish you did.” It was obvious he was still upset, but it was to his credit that he was able to hold his tongue. He nodded at me and left the restaurant.

Papa didn't say anything, just stood looking down at Beau.

Callie came up next to me and put her arm around my waist. “What about your food? Do you still want it?”

“Oh, I'd forgotten.”

“I am sorry, Daughter,” Papa said. “In all the confusion I forgot that you still haven't had your supper.”

“I'm not really hungry anymore, Papa.”

“If you do not eat, you will be weak, Hope.” He walked over to our plates and took the tin foil off the top of each one. “It's still warm.” He gave me a small smile. “I realize supper is the last thing on your mind now, but I would feel much better if you had some food in you. Will you try to eat something? For me?”

I did feel rather faint, and even though I wasn't hungry, I realized it was probably wise to put something in my body. “Yes, Papa.”

“Good.” He put one of the plates in front of me, and Callie went to get me a glass of water.

Papa started to sit down at the table, but suddenly stopped as he stared down at Beau, who remained where he was. “Oh, I suppose I must tie Beau up outside.”

“Nonsense.”

Lizzie had come back into the dining room. The color was back in her cheeks, and she looked much more composed. “Beau will stay right where he is. He's welcome in here anytime. Since the health department doesn't even know about this place, I doubt we'll get in trouble over it.”

“Thank you, Lizzie,” Papa said. “I would hate for him to be alone right now. I expect he will need some time to settle down after what he has been through.”

Beau's large brown eyes held so much sorrow I felt my own eyes well up. “I remember how happy he always was to see people,” I said, trying not to choke up. “That tail of his had a mind its own, always wagging. Whenever he was around,
you could hear it thumping against the floor.” Beau's tail lay still, almost as if it were broken. Would it ever wag again?

BOOK: Unbreakable
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