Faithless (12 page)

The man said, “Sorry we’re late.”

Jeffrey moved, taking his lemonade with him, so that the woman could take his chair. Another woman who looked more like Lev entered the house, her reddish-blond hair wound into a bun on the top of her head. To Lena, she looked like the quintessential sturdy farmwoman who could drop a baby in the fields and keep on picking cotton the rest of the day. Hell, the whole family looked strong. The shortest one was Esther, and she had a good six inches on Lena.

“My brother, Paul,” Lev said, indicating the man. “This is Rachel.” The farmwoman nodded her head in greeting. “And Mary.”

From what Esther had said, Mary was younger than Lev, probably in her midforties, but she looked and acted like she was twenty years older. She took her time settling into the chair, as if she was afraid she’d fall and break a hip. She even sounded like an old woman when she said, “You’ll have to excuse me, I haven’t been well,” in a tone that invited pity.

“My father couldn’t join us,” Lev told them, deftly sidestepping his sister. “He’s had a stroke. He doesn’t get out much these days.”

“That’s quite all right,” Jeffrey told him, then addressed the other family members. “I’m Chief Tolliver. This is Detective Adams. Thank you all for coming.”

“Shall we sit?” Rachel suggested, going to the couch. She indicated Esther should sit beside her. Again, Lena felt the division of tasks between the men and women of the family, seating arrangements and kitchen duties on one side, everything else on the other.

Jeffrey tilted his head slightly, motioning Lena to Esther’s left as he leaned against the fireplace mantel. Lev waited until Lena was seated before helping Ephraim into the chair beside Jeffrey. He raised his eyebrows slightly, and Lena knew that he had probably gotten quite an earful while she was in the kitchen. She couldn’t wait to compare notes.

“So,” Jeffrey said, as if the small talk was out of the way and they could finally get down to business. “You say Abby’s been missing for ten days?”

“That’s my fault,” Lev said, and Lena wondered if he was going to confess. “I thought Abby was going on the mission into Atlanta with the family. Ephraim thought she was staying on the farm with us.”

Paul said, “We all thought that was the case. I don’t think we need to assign blame.” Lena studied the man for the first time, thinking he sounded a lot like a lawyer. He was the only one of them wearing what looked like store-bought clothes. His suit was pin-striped, his tie a deep magenta against his white shirt. His hair was professionally cut and styled. Paul Ward looked like the city mouse standing next to his country-mouse brother and sisters.

“Whatever the case, none of us thought anything untoward was happening,” Rachel said.

Jeffrey must have gotten the full story about the farm, because his next question was not about the family or the inner workings of Holy Grown. “Was there someone around the farm Abby liked being around? Maybe one of the workers?”

Rachel provided, “We didn’t really let her mingle.”

“Surely she met other people,” Jeffrey said, taking a sip of lemonade. He seemed to be doing everything in his power not to shudder from the tartness as he put the glass on the mantel.

Lev said, “She went to church socials, of course, but the field workers keep to themselves.”

Esther added, “We don’t like to discriminate, but the field workers are a rougher sort of person. Abby wasn’t really introduced to that element of the farm. She was told to stay away from them.”

“But she worked some in the fields?” Lena asked, remembering their earlier conversation.

“Yes, but only with other family members. Cousins, mostly,” Lev said. “We have a rather large family.”

Esther listed, “Rachel has four, Paul has six. Mary’s sons live in Wyoming and…”

She didn’t finish. Jeffrey prompted, “And?”

Rachel cleared her throat, but it was Paul who spoke. “They don’t visit often,” he said, the tension in his voice echoing what Lena suddenly felt in the room. “They haven’t been back in a while.”

“Ten years,” Mary said, looking up at the ceiling like she wanted to trap her tears. Lena wondered if they had run screaming from the farm. She sure as hell would have.

Mary continued, “They chose a different path. I pray for them every day when I get up and every evening before I go to bed.”

Sensing Mary could monopolize things for a while, Lena asked Lev, “You’re married?”

“Not anymore.” For the first time, his expression appeared unguarded. “My wife passed away in childbirth several years ago.” He gave a pained smile. “Our first child, unfortunately, but I have my Ezekiel to comfort me.”

Jeffrey waited an appropriate interval before saying, “So, you guys thought Abby was with her parents, her parents thought she was with you. This was, what, ten days ago you went on your mission?”

Esther answered, “That’s right.”

“And you do these missions about four times a year?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a registered nurse?” he asked.

Esther nodded, and Lena tried to hide her surprise. The woman seemed to volunteer yards of useless information about herself at the drop of a hat. That she had kept back this one detail seemed suspicious.

Esther supplied, “I was training at Georgia Medical College when Ephraim and I married. Papa thought it’d be handy to have someone with practical first-aid experience around the farm, and the other girls can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“That’s the truth,” Rachel agreed.

Jeffrey asked, “Do you have many accidents here?”

“Thank goodness, no. A man sliced through his Achilles tendon three years ago. It was a mess. I was able to use my training to control the bleeding, but there was nothing else I could do for him other than basic triage. We really need a doctor around.”

“Who do you normally see?” Jeffrey asked. “You have children around here sometimes.” As if explaining, he added, “My wife is a pediatrician in town.”

Lev interposed, “Sara Linton. Of course.” A slight smile of recognition crossed his lips.

“Do you know Sara?”

“We went to Sunday school together a
long
time ago.” Lev stretched out the word “long,” as if they had many shared secrets.

Lena could tell that Jeffrey was annoyed by the familiarity; whether he was jealous or just being protective, she didn’t know.

Being Jeffrey, he didn’t let his irritation interfere with the interview, and instead directed them back on track by asking Esther, “Do you normally not telephone to check in?” When Esther seemed confused, he added, “When you’re away in Atlanta. You don’t call to check in on the children?”

“They’re with their family,” she said. Her tone was demure but Lena had seen a flash in her eyes, as if she had been insulted.

Rachel continued her sister’s theme. “We’re very close-knit, Chief Tolliver. In case you hadn’t picked up on that.”

Jeffrey took the slap on the nose better than Lena would have. He asked Esther, “Can you tell me when it was you realized she was missing?”

“We got back late last night,” Esther said. “We went by the farm first to see Papa and pick up Abby and Becca-”

“Becca didn’t go with you, either?” Lena asked.

“Oh, of course not,” the mother said, as if she had suggested something preposterous. “She’s only fourteen.”

“Right,” Lena said, having no idea what age was appropriate for a tour of the homeless shelters of Atlanta.

“Becca stayed with us at the house,” Lev provided. “She likes to spend time with my son, Zeke.” He continued, “When Abby didn’t show up for supper that first night, Becca just assumed Abby had changed her mind about going to Atlanta. She didn’t even bother to bring it up.”

“I’d like to talk to her,” Jeffrey said.

Lev obviously did not like the request, but he nodded his consent. “All right.”

Jeffrey tried again, “There was no one Abby was seeing? A boy she was interested in?”

“I know this is difficult to believe because of her age,” Lev replied, “but Abby led a very sheltered life. She was schooled here at home. She didn’t know much about life outside the farm. We were trying to prepare her by taking her into Atlanta, but she didn’t like it. She preferred a more cloistered life.”

“She had been on missions before?”

Esther provided, “Yes. Twice. She didn’t like it, didn’t like being away.”

“‘Cloistered’ is an interesting word,” Jeffrey observed.

“I know it makes her sound like a nun,” Lev told him, “and maybe that’s not far off base. She wasn’t Catholic, of course, but she was extremely devout. She had a passion for serving our Lord.”

Ephraim said, “Amen,” under his breath, but it felt cursory to Lena, like saying, “Bless you,” after someone sneezed.

Esther supplied, “She was very strong in her faith.” Quickly, she put her hand to her mouth, as if she realized her slip. For the first time, she had spoken about her daughter in the past tense. Beside her, Rachel took her hand.

Jeffrey continued, “Was there anyone hanging around the farm who seemed to pay more attention to her than he should have? A stranger perhaps?”

Lev said, “We have many strangers here, Chief Tolliver. It’s the nature of our work to invite strangers into our homes. Isaiah beseeches us to ‘bring the poor that are cast out to thy house.’ It is our duty to help them.”

“Amen,” the family intoned.

Jeffrey asked Esther, “Do you remember what she was wearing the last time you saw her?”

“Yes, of course.” Esther paused a moment, as if the memory might break a dam of emotions she had been holding back. “We had sewn a blue dress together. Abby loved to sew. We found the pattern in an old trunk upstairs that I believe belonged to Ephraim’s mother. We made a few changes to update it. She was wearing it when we said good-bye.”

“This was here at the house?”

“Yes, early that morning. Becca had already gone to the farm.”

Mary provided, “Becca was with me.”

Jeffrey asked, “Anything else?”

Esther told him, “Abby’s very calm. She never got flustered as a child. She’s such a special girl.”

Lev spoke up, his voice deadly serious in a way that made his words sound not like a compliment to his sister but as a matter of record. “Abby looks very much like her mother, Chief Tolliver. They have the same coloring, same almond shape to their eyes. She’s a very attractive girl.”

Lena repeated his words in her mind, wondering if he was intimating another man might want his niece or revealing something deeper about himself. It was hard to tell with this guy. He seemed pretty open and honest one minute, but then the next Lena wasn’t even sure if she would believe him if he told her the sky was blue. The preacher obviously was the head of the church as well as the family, and she got the distinct feeling that he was probably a lot smarter than he let on.

Esther touched her own hair, recalling, “I tied a ribbon in her hair. A blue ribbon. I remember it now. Ephraim had packed the car and we were ready to go, and I found the ribbon in my purse. I had been saving it because I thought I could use it as an embellishment on a dress or something, but it matched her dress so well, I told her to come over, and she bent down while I tied the ribbon in her hair…” Her voice trailed off, and Lena saw her throat work. “She has the softest hair…”

Rachel squeezed her sister’s hand. Esther was staring out the window as if she wanted to be outside and away from this scene. Lena saw this as a coping mechanism that she was more than familiar with. It was so much easier to keep yourself removed from things rather than wearing your emotions out on your sleeve.

Paul said, “Rachel and I live on the farm with our families. Separate houses, of course, but we’re within walking distance of the main house. When we couldn’t locate Abby last night, we did a thorough search of the grounds. The workers fanned out. We checked the houses, the buildings, from top to bottom. When we couldn’t find anything, we called the sheriff.”

“I’m sorry it took him so long to get back to you,” Jeffrey said. “They’ve been pretty busy over there.”

“I don’t imagine,” Paul began, “many people in your business get concerned when a twenty-one-year-old girl goes missing.”

“Why is that?”

“Girls run off all the time, don’t they?” he said. “We’re not completely blind to the outside world here.”

“I’m not following you.”

“I’m the black sheep of the family,” Paul said, and from his siblings’ reaction, Lena could tell it was an old family joke. “I’m a lawyer. I handle the farm’s legal business. Most of my time is spent in Savannah. I spend every other week in the city.”

“Were you here last week?” Jeffrey asked.

“I came back last night when I heard about Abby,” he said, and the room fell silent.

“We’ve heard rumors,” Rachel said, cutting to the chase. “Horrible rumors.”

Ephraim put his hand to his chest. The old man’s fingers were trembling. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“I think so, sir.” Jeffrey reached into his pocket and took out a Polaroid. Ephraim’s hands were shaking too much to take it, so Lev stepped in. Lena watched both men look at the picture. Where Ephraim was composed and quiet, Lev gasped audibly, then closed his eyes, though no tears spilled out. Lena watched his lips move in a silent prayer. Ephraim could only stare at the photograph, his palsy becoming so bad that the chair seemed to vibrate.

Behind him, Paul was looking at the picture, his face impassive. Lena watched him for signs of guilt, then any sign at all. But for his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed, he stood as still as a rock.

Esther cleared her throat. “May I?” she said, asking for the picture. She seemed perfectly composed, but her fear and underlying anguish were obvious.

“Oh, Mother,” Ephraim began, his voice cracking from grief. “You may look if you like, but please, trust me, you don’t want to see her like this. You don’t want this in your memory.”

Esther demurred to her husband’s wishes, but Rachel reached out for the photograph. Lena watched the older woman’s lips press into a rigid line. “Dear Jesus,” she whispered. “Why?”

Whether she meant to or not, Esther looked over her sister’s shoulder, seeing the picture of her dead child. Her shoulders started shaking, a small tremble that erupted into spasms of grief as she buried her head in her hands, sobbing, “No!”