Read Online Abandoned Prayers by Gregg Olsen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gregg Olsen
Ads: Link
told friends.
When Abe went to see his cousin at the hospital, he felt like Eli’s big, protective brother.
Sheriff Frost, looking puffed up and important, stood in the hallway outside Stutzman’s room.
“You aren’t doing enough to catch the guys who hurt Eli!” Abe said, raising his voice. “You are just using him and throwing him out to the wolves. You’re doing a lousy job of protecting your people.”
Frost said nothing.
Some things didn’t seem to fit. Those who saw the cuts on Stutzman’s arms noticed that the wounds were clean, not jagged, as might be expected from a violent attack. Deep needle marks also marked his thin, white arms.
Chores were done and things were quiet at the Miller farm. Earl Miller noticed headlights flash in the lane at about 8:00 P.M . Sheriff Frost was back, this time poking around the Millers’ cars, touching the hoods to see if the engines were still warm.
“Where have you guys been out to all night?” the sheriff asked.
They had just finished milking and were settling in for the night. “What’s going on?” Levi Miller asked.
“We’ve got an attempted homicide. We’re not fooling around here. Eli Stutzman was found up at Stoll’s bleeding to death.” Frost added that Stutzman had received death threats and was sure the Millers were behind it.
“So, like I said, where have you been tonight?” he asked again.
The Chupps saw Eli Stutzman at the hospital the day after the stabbing. Like a weakened, crumpled ball of a person,Stutzman said two tall, long-haired men had attacked him. “They drove a Dodge Swinger,” he added.
Liz Chupp asked about the bandages on Stutzman’s wrists.
“I put up my arms to fend them off and they sliced me,” Stutzman explained.
The following day, Mose Keim—the man who had nursed Stutzman through his nervous breakdown in 1972—called the Chupps with a vague warning. “Don’t be too sure that what Eli Stutzman is saying to you is the truth. There were some strange things that went on when he lived with me,” he said. “A lot of what he told me was not the truth.”
Next, word came to Stoll’s that Stutzman had had a mental collapse and was tied to the bed by hospital personnel. Strong tranquilizers were being administered to try to calm him. The ordeal had been too much. Liz Chupp said a prayer.
On November 22, when the truth came out, it shook everyone who had been sucked into Stutzman’s carefully orchestrated tale of betrayal and brutality. Sheriff Frost went out to Stoll Farms, carrying the stack of threatening letters.
“Eli did this to himself,” Frost said, seeming satisfied in cracking a difficult case. “He even wrote the letters.”
Ed Stoll found the scenario hard to believe, but Frost compared the letters to some other writings made by Stutzman. The typed letters also matched a typewriter found in Stutzman’s bedroom at Maryjane and Walter Stoll’s house.
What kind of a man would do something like this?
Ed thought at the time.
Beyond Stutzman’s confession, there was more proof that it had all been a set-up. Investigators recovered a single-edge razor blade from the barn. In addition, they found a large IV needle used for cows. The needle had human blood on it.
Stoll felt used. The whole thing made him sick. “WhileI was hauling my last load, Eli was running around the barn messing it up and squirting his own blood on the walls,” he said.
It was true that Stutzman had worked in a hospital and boasted about his expansive medical knowledge. He had given plenty of IVs and he knew which vein would give the best show of blood. He had foreshadowed all of it by sending the notes to himself.
One thing Stutzman hadn’t planned on was Ed Stoll taking such a long time with the last haul. The delay almost cost him his life.
“What took you so long?” Stutzman had said when Stoll found him on the floor. Now, to Stoll, the statement had a whole new meaning.
The Millers were never brought to trial
When Abe went to see his cousin at the hospital, he felt like Eli’s big, protective brother.
Sheriff Frost, looking puffed up and important, stood in the hallway outside Stutzman’s room.
“You aren’t doing enough to catch the guys who hurt Eli!” Abe said, raising his voice. “You are just using him and throwing him out to the wolves. You’re doing a lousy job of protecting your people.”
Frost said nothing.
Some things didn’t seem to fit. Those who saw the cuts on Stutzman’s arms noticed that the wounds were clean, not jagged, as might be expected from a violent attack. Deep needle marks also marked his thin, white arms.
Chores were done and things were quiet at the Miller farm. Earl Miller noticed headlights flash in the lane at about 8:00 P.M . Sheriff Frost was back, this time poking around the Millers’ cars, touching the hoods to see if the engines were still warm.
“Where have you guys been out to all night?” the sheriff asked.
They had just finished milking and were settling in for the night. “What’s going on?” Levi Miller asked.
“We’ve got an attempted homicide. We’re not fooling around here. Eli Stutzman was found up at Stoll’s bleeding to death.” Frost added that Stutzman had received death threats and was sure the Millers were behind it.
“So, like I said, where have you been tonight?” he asked again.
The Chupps saw Eli Stutzman at the hospital the day after the stabbing. Like a weakened, crumpled ball of a person,Stutzman said two tall, long-haired men had attacked him. “They drove a Dodge Swinger,” he added.
Liz Chupp asked about the bandages on Stutzman’s wrists.
“I put up my arms to fend them off and they sliced me,” Stutzman explained.
The following day, Mose Keim—the man who had nursed Stutzman through his nervous breakdown in 1972—called the Chupps with a vague warning. “Don’t be too sure that what Eli Stutzman is saying to you is the truth. There were some strange things that went on when he lived with me,” he said. “A lot of what he told me was not the truth.”
Next, word came to Stoll’s that Stutzman had had a mental collapse and was tied to the bed by hospital personnel. Strong tranquilizers were being administered to try to calm him. The ordeal had been too much. Liz Chupp said a prayer.
On November 22, when the truth came out, it shook everyone who had been sucked into Stutzman’s carefully orchestrated tale of betrayal and brutality. Sheriff Frost went out to Stoll Farms, carrying the stack of threatening letters.
“Eli did this to himself,” Frost said, seeming satisfied in cracking a difficult case. “He even wrote the letters.”
Ed Stoll found the scenario hard to believe, but Frost compared the letters to some other writings made by Stutzman. The typed letters also matched a typewriter found in Stutzman’s bedroom at Maryjane and Walter Stoll’s house.
What kind of a man would do something like this?
Ed thought at the time.
Beyond Stutzman’s confession, there was more proof that it had all been a set-up. Investigators recovered a single-edge razor blade from the barn. In addition, they found a large IV needle used for cows. The needle had human blood on it.
Stoll felt used. The whole thing made him sick. “WhileI was hauling my last load, Eli was running around the barn messing it up and squirting his own blood on the walls,” he said.
It was true that Stutzman had worked in a hospital and boasted about his expansive medical knowledge. He had given plenty of IVs and he knew which vein would give the best show of blood. He had foreshadowed all of it by sending the notes to himself.
One thing Stutzman hadn’t planned on was Ed Stoll taking such a long time with the last haul. The delay almost cost him his life.
“What took you so long?” Stutzman had said when Stoll found him on the floor. Now, to Stoll, the statement had a whole new meaning.
The Millers were never brought to trial
Similar Books
