Page 65 of The Hidden One

“Were there any witnesses?” I ask. “Did anyone see what happened?”

Nothing.

I spend a few more minutes posing the same questions in different ways, but Levi Schmucker doesn’t respond. The old man sags in his chair, his chin against his chest, hands quavering, and ignores me. It’s as if recalling his experience with Ananias Stoltzfus exhausted him.

I’m back on the road in less than an hour and on my way to Belleville. My conversation with Schmucker replays in my head and I pick apart the exchange word by word. The idea of a bishop beating a member of the congregation is so outrageous I can’t even get my head around it. No bishop would resort to violence. Ever. The notion of the Amish meting out street justice is a Hollywood fable. Even if the story of the beating is true, is it related in any way to the murder of Ananias Stoltzfus?

If Schmucker was telling the truth I have to wonder: Did Ananias mistreat any other members of the congregation? Did one of them reach a breaking point? Did they snap, go to the bishop’s home or lure him to the woods, and shoot him to death? Or am I wrong about all of this and his murder is about something else I’m not seeing?

I’m so preoccupied, I barely notice the verdant hills to the north or the postcard-perfect valley laid out before me. I find myself thinking about anomalies and it occurs to me almost all of them revolve around not only Ananias Stoltzfus, but his wife, Mia, too.

Said he was from Minnesota, but I have a cousin lives up there and they don’t talk that way.

I can’t speak for Ananias, but Mia was from Germany.

… Lutherans practice confession … We put much emphasis on the holy absolution.

Midway between Lock Haven and Belleville, I pull over at a scenic overlook, google Harmony, Minnesota, and learn it’s located in Fillmore County. I locate the county assessor’s office and make the call. I’m transferred a couple of times and end up speaking to a clerk who, after some back-and-forth and a lot of key tapping, informs me that neither Ananias nor Mia Stoltzfus owned property at any time in Fillmore County.

“Are you sure?” I ask, but the woman has already ended the call.

I puzzle over the information, wondering if the property was in the name of another family member. It would be unusual for an established Amish couple to rent. Or maybe they lived in a neighboring county or the clerk wasn’t thorough and overlooked the information.

Next, I call the Fillmore County Sheriff’s Office. I reach an investigator with the Criminal Investigations Division, but she tells me my request will be handled more expeditiously if I talk to someone in Patrol. I’m transferred to Deputy Lina Leonard. I identify myself and after some polite chitchat, I get to the point.

“I’m working on a cold case and looking into the background of the victim,” I tell her.

“Happy to help, Chief Burkholder.”

She sounds young. Judging by the background noise, she’s in her cruiser, on patrol. I give her the fundamentals of the case. “Stoltzfus claimed he and his wife, Mia, were from Harmony. I need to speak with anyone in the Amish community who can confirm that.”

“Not to throw a monkey wrench at you, Chief, but most of the Amish up here don’t use phones, so it’s not like I can call someone.”

“I was hoping a deputy could get a message to the bishop or deacon or one of the ministers and have one of them call me back on one of their pay phones if they have them.”

“I’m your man. And they do.” She laughs. “I patrol the area that’s mostly Amish. I’ve gotten to know a few of them.”

“Do you know who the bishop is?”

“I think that’s Elmer Hostetler. I’ve met him a couple times over the years. He’s one of the elders.”

I pause, thinking. “Do you happen to know how old he is?” I ask. “Stoltzfus would have lived in Harmony in the early to mid-sixties. It would be beneficial for me to speak to someone who was around at that time.”

“Not sure. He’s gray-haired. Maybe seventy or so?”

“He’ll probably do.”

“Okay, Chief, I’ll ask around and get back to you. How soon do you need this information?”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Yesterday?”

“Gotcha. Give me a couple days. I’ll see what I can do.”

CHAPTER 20

Every murder victim has a story to tell. Any cop worth his salt knows that finding that story and understanding it is central to solving his case. Some stories are easy to unravel; the victim wants to tell you what happened and leaves traces of his life behind. Others are a labyrinth of secrets tucked into dark places and not easily revealed. Ananias Stoltzfus falls into the latter category. That’s unusual, because an Amish bishop is not some shady individual who’s been engaging in unsavory activities.

What is his story? Why can’t I seem to unravel it?