Forty Acres: A Thriller (22 page)

The guard froze. The work stopped. The entire dig fell silent except for the beaten man’s whimpering. Damon, Roy, all the guards stared. Even a few slaves risked a glance at Martin. He hadn’t been able to hold his emotions back any longer. His outburst was as unstoppable as a volcanic eruption.

Martin saw the puzzled eyes measuring him, perhaps the seeds of doubt taking root. Now they knew, Martin thought. Now they all knew how he truly felt . . . and he was as doomed as the men chained to the wall.

But the accusations never came. Just a wry snicker from Roy before he whispered to Martin, “Jesus, you really are new.” Then Roy shouted for everyone to get back to work. The battered slave, too injured to do so, was dragged away, and the slaves returned to swinging their pickaxes. Just like that, the incident was over.

Damon gave Martin’s shoulder a supportive squeeze, then turned to Roy. “I believe that Mr. Grey has seen enough.”

CHAPTER 56

A
short while later Damon and Martin were trudging back through the woods toward the main house. The sky was now overcast and a light drizzle had begun to fall.

Martin thought it odd that neither Damon nor Roy had made any mention of Martin’s outburst as they hiked their way back up to the surface. After they emerged from the mine, Damon’s griping about not being able to get in a few rounds of golf had been the sole topic of conversation. Martin couldn’t tell whether the two men were intentionally avoiding a troubling subject that would be dealt with later, or if his revealing misstep was really not that big a deal. Either way, Martin felt a pressing urge to say something. To try to slap a patch on his character before it completely deflated. But he decided to remain quiet. Why make an issue out of something that may not be an issue at all? For all he knew, Damon had already forgotten about the incident.

Martin was wrong.

They were just a few yards from reaching the main house when Damon surprised Martin by grabbing his arm.

“Hold it a minute,” Damon said. The casualness Damon displayed during their stroll back had vanished. His demeanor was stern. “What happened in the mine. That can’t happen again. Never defend a slave over a master. Never.”

Martin did his best to nod.

“I’m sure you can understand why,” Damon said.

“Of course,” Martin said. “Sorry about that. I guess I’m still just getting used to all this.”

Damon shook his head. “You never really get used to it. And in some ways, your reaction was perfectly natural. If you saw a dog receiving a beating, you’d probably react the exact same way. But here’s the thing: you have to keep reminding yourself what ‘all this’ is really about. What they did to our people. What we’re doing here is a duty. It serves a higher purpose. Okay?”

After a moment, Martin nodded. “I understand.”

“I hope so. If not, you’ll never get through your initiation tonight.”

Martin looked at him. “Is there any way I can get you to tell me what this initiation is?”

Damon’s easy smile returned. “Brother, what you’ve seen so far is nothing. Just a small taste of what we’ve created. The knowledge and experiences that await you will forever change you. But before we can take you deeper, you must prove your loyalty.”

“How?”

Damon frowned. “I’ve already said too much. But I will say this about tonight. You better toughen up, real fast.” With that, Damon continued toward the main house.

CHAPTER 57

A
lice paused outside Master Lewis’s bedroom door, smoothed out her maid’s uniform, and took a deep breath. She tried to make herself appear calm, but that wasn’t easy with her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea why Master Lewis would ask to see her in the middle of the afternoon. In the few years that he had been coming to Forty Acres, she had only been summoned to his room once, and that was for sex. In truth, it was more of a beating than sex. It was well known that Master Lewis injured the women who went to his room and that it would probably be much worse if Master Lennox didn’t keep him in check. Alice could tell, though, that Master Lewis had not enjoyed the night he spent with her. Alice didn’t know why, and she didn’t really care. He sure smacked her around enough. She was just thankful that Master Lewis had never demanded her company again—until last night. When she had been summoned to Master Lewis’s room, she was certain that her good fortune had run out. She expected him to slam her down on the bed and rip off her clothes like last time, but instead he wanted her to sleep with the new master, Martin Grey. Alice took no pleasure in sleeping with any of them, but if she had no choice, she’d much rather sleep with Grey than a man who confused caresses with punches.

Alice took another deep breath as she stared at the doorknob.
Calm down
, she told herself.
He probably just wants you to sleep with Mr. Grey again. Yes, that has to be it
. Alice put on a big smile and rapped lightly on the door.

Carver’s firm voice beckoned her to enter. Alice pushed through the door and saw Carver seated on the edge of the bed. Her tension eased a bit when she saw that he was fully dressed and smiling. “You wanted to see me, master?”

“Yes. I’m curious about your evening with Mr. Grey.”

“Curious, sir?”

“Tell me what happened.”

Alice took on a puzzled expression. “We had sex, sir.”

Carver frowned. “I know that. I mean what did you talk about?”

“Nothing really. We didn’t do much talking.”

Carver’s smile thinned as his eyes drank her in. “Yeah, I imagine not. Did anything unusual happen?”

“Unusual?”

“Yes. You know, like did he ask you to do anything . . . out of the ordinary?”

Alice suddenly had a pit in her stomach. Alice had a strong feeling that if she revealed the truth, something bad would happen. Not to her but to Mr. Grey. Usually she wouldn’t give a shit about what happened to these men who took away her life and kept her a prisoner. But after she’d thought more about Mr. Grey’s behavior, only one thing made sense to Alice: pretending to have sex wasn’t some weird kink as she had originally thought. Mr. Grey faked the sex because he didn’t want to rape her. He was trying to protect her. And if he was trying to protect her, Alice thought, then she should protect him as best she could.

“Answer me,” Carver demanded, growing impatient.

Alice shook her head. “No, sir. Nothing like that. We just had sex.”

Carver studied her suspiciously. Alice was relieved; it meant that Mr. Carver did not know the truth. Mr. Grey had kept what happened secret as well.

“Do you think he enjoyed the sex?” Carver asked.

“Yes. He seemed to, sir.”

Carver leaned forward. “Do you think Mr. Grey likes you, Alice? I mean, was he kind to you? Treated you nicely?”

Alice found the question more than a little odd. Her brow furrowed. “Mr. Grey was very nice to me, sir.”

“I’m sure he was. But does he like you? You can tell if someone likes you, can’t you?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Well? Does he like you or not?”

Alice nodded. “Yes, I think Mr. Grey does like me.”

A cold smile creased Carver’s face. “Yes, that’s what I thought too.”

Alice didn’t like the look on Carver’s face. It made her nervous. It reminded her of the way he looked the night he beat her. The sooner she got out of his room the better. “Is that all, sir?”

Carver shook his head, slow and ominous. “No, it’s not. Come closer.”

Alice’s heart began to race again. “You have more questions about Mr. Grey?”

“I said come closer.”

Alice forced her body, tense with fear, to take a few steps toward him.

“Don’t play games. Come here. Right here in front of me.”

Alice tried to remain calm. She already knew what was going to happen next—it seemed inevitable now—but showing fear might anger him and make his hands heavier. Still smiling, Alice took a few more steps forward and stopped within arm’s reach of Carver. Within striking distance. For an infinite moment he just groped her body with his stare. She could see his eyes filling up with his mean lust. Then Carver said something unexpected. “Show me your hands.”

Alice was so baffled by the request that she just stood there looking at him.

“Are you deaf? Show me your hands!”

Alice raised her hands. They were trembling and there was nothing she could do to stop them. She was just too frightened. Carver grabbed her hands and stared at them. They were small and delicate. Carver took particular interest in her fingernails. They were clipped short but still had a bit of an edge. Carver ran his fingers over the tips of her nails and smiled, apparently pleased by their appearance. Finally he released her hands and looked up at her, mysteriously amused. “You and I are going to play a game,” he said. Then Carver grabbed Alice and flung her hard onto the bed.

CHAPTER 58

J
uanita Darrell, displaying her usual flair, selected Xander’s, a trendy new soul food restaurant on the corner of 127th Street and St. Nicholas Avenue in Harlem, to host an impromptu “girls’ night out.” Xander’s had a three-month waiting list, but being the wives of powerful men came with certain privileges, like getting the best table in the house on the busiest night of the week without a reservation. The restaurant’s unique posh-funk décor, velvety atmosphere, and delicious authentic dishes lived up to Anna’s expectations. Any other night she would have been thrilled to be there, but on this night, she had far too much on her mind.

Anna sat at the table picking at her smothered lamb chops while the other wives enjoyed a lively discussion on a mad variety of topics. Dissecting every detail of Saks’s new upscale nail salon took up cocktail time (verdict: good effort, but not good enough to replace Bergdorf’s). Then, as wine flowed and each course arrived at the table, the conversation hopscotched dizzyingly across subjects like Obamacare, the latest episode of
Real Housewives of Atlanta
, and real estate opportunities in the Cayman Islands, and had now landed on a critique of Michelle Obama’s wardrobe. Anna remained quiet all the while.

“Anna, we haven’t heard from you yet,” Juanita said. “What do you think?”

Anna looked up from her plate and saw all the women staring at her. She was only vaguely aware of the current topic of conversation. Instead of pretending to care, she just shrugged. “Sorry, I guess my mind’s somewhere else.”

Starsha, Carver’s wife and the youngest at the table, snorted. “Yeah, no kidding. You haven’t said a word all night.”

“No, that’s not true,” Kwame’s wife, Olaide, said. “I did hear the sister order those lamb chops. But that’s about it.”

The women laughed. Juanita, who was seated to Anna’s right, reached over and squeezed her hand. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes. I’m fine. I guess I just miss Martin.”

The women traded amused looks. Betty Aarons, Solomon’s regal wife, shook her head. “Lord, girl. Your man’s only been gone a single day. During the war, Solomon was away for over a year and I didn’t look as down as you do now.”

“I’ve never been completely out of touch with Martin before. That’s all.”

Juanita frowned at Anna. “I thought we settled all this last night when you called.”

“I know. It’s just it feels so weird not being able to text him or anything. I had trouble sleeping.”

Starsha leaned closer to Anna and lowered her voice. “See, what you need to get you through those lonely nights is a good vibrator.” She winked at Mrs. Aarons. “You tell her, Betty.”

The women burst into laughter, and Anna laughed right along with them. Juanita shooed off Anna’s gloom with a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry. By the time they go off on their next trip, you won’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, especially if we take a trip of our own,” Starsha added. “The only reason we didn’t go anywhere this time is because Margaret is in the middle of a closing.”

“Sorry, girls,” Tobias’s wife said with a playful pout.

“Starsha’s right,” Juanita said to Anna. “Anywhere we go, we go in style. You’ll have so much fun that you won’t have time to worry about Martin. Am I right, ladies?” Juanita raised her wineglass and the other women followed suit.

Anna watched skeptically as the five wives clinked their glasses and drank to their ability to temporarily forget their husbands. It was the oddest toast that Anna had ever seen, and she wasn’t sold. “Come on, be honest,” Anna said. “You guys have to be just a little worried. I mean, your husbands are out in the middle of nowhere, engaged in a very risky sport.”

Juanita laughed. “Risky? I don’t think so. Like I told you, they splash around in a little kiddie river. They’re probably in more danger when they sit around the campfire getting drunk.”

The women laughed until Anna stopped the conversation cold with what she said next. “I’m sure Mrs. Jackson felt the exact same way.”

The mood at the table shifted instantly. The women exchanged sullen looks as if they were more annoyed by the tragic memory than saddened by it. Juanita frowned at Anna. “Let me guess. You read about it on the Internet.”

Anna nodded. “And yesterday, when your husband came to pick up Martin, I asked him about it.”

“Then I’m sure Damon told you that Donald Jackson’s death was a suicide, not an accident like the papers say.”

“He did, but after thinking about it, something occurred to me that I just can’t get out of my mind.” Anna scanned the women’s faces, hesitant to continue. She was certain her next words would not be welcome. “I think your husbands may have lied to all of you.”

For a moment no one said a word. The wives just scowled at their newest member. In an attempt to deflate the tension, Juanita began to laugh. “I’m sure Anna doesn’t mean that the way it sounds. Do you, Anna?”

“Well, actually I do. Just think about it. If your husbands had returned and said that Donald Jackson died while rafting, none of you would ever let them go rafting again. Am I right? It would mean the end of their camping trips. They had a good reason to lie.”

Starsha laughed derisively. “Lady, you got a lot of nerve. You don’t know us from boo and you certainly don’t know our damn husbands.”

“Starsha is absolutely right,” Olaide said to Anna in a firm voice. “Maybe lies are acceptable in your marriage, but between Kwame and me there are no secrets.”

Margaret Stewart shook her head, discounting the idea completely. “No. Uh-uh. Yes, Tobias is a little wild. Yes, he gambles and drinks too much. Yes, he sometimes chases women. But one thing he never does is lie about it. Tobias tells me everything—even though sometimes I wish he didn’t.”

Mrs. Aarons raised an aloof nose to Anna and remarked, “Mr. Aarons and I have been married for longer than you have been alive, young lady. That makes us more than just husband and wife. Your haphazard allegation is not just wrong, it’s extremely insulting.”

Juanita reached out and gave Anna a little pat on the hand. “I really need to freshen up. Why don’t you come with me?”

As Anna rose and followed Juanita across the restaurant, she could almost feel the glares of the women burning into her back.

*   *   *

“I think you should go home,” Juanita said as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “You’re ruining everyone’s night. I’m sorry, but there’s just no easy way to say it.”

Anna was standing beside Juanita inside the plush ladies’ restroom as Stevie Wonder wafted from concealed speakers. Anna wasn’t hurt by Juanita’s invitation to leave. She felt that she deserved it. In fact, the instant Anna stepped away from the table, she regretted her behavior. Even if she did find the other wives’ views of their husbands to be absurdly unrealistic, that didn’t give her the right to be rude and obnoxious. And then there was Martin to think about. Acceptance by their influential husbands was important to Martin, Anna knew that, yet here she was making enemies of their wives. How stupid could she be? If Martin fell out of favor with his new friends as a direct result of something she did, Martin might forgive her, but Anna would never be able to forgive herself. Anna sighed and leaned against the sink. “Juanita, I’m so sorry, I really am. I guess I’m just going a little crazy.”

Juanita shrugged as she applied eye shadow. “Hey, it happens when you’re pregnant.”

“What?” Anna asked in utter shock. “How did you—?”

Juanita burst into laughter. “Hm, let’s see . . . first I noticed that you ordered iced tea instead of wine, and I definitely remember you drinking wine at my dinner party. Then, this whole clingy business about you missing your husband desperately after just one day. You seemed more levelheaded and independent-minded the first time I met you. Those things made me suspicious, but honestly I wasn’t sure until just this second.” Juanita chuckled again. “Girl, you should’ve seen your face. Congratulations!” Juanita pulled Anna into a hug. When they parted, Juanita noticed Anna’s anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I really wanted Martin to be the first to know. You have to promise me not to say anything to anybody until I tell him.”

Juanita’s eyes lit up with understanding. “That explains a lot. He doesn’t know yet?”

Anna shook her head. “I found out the same day he left.”

“You poor thing. The biggest news of your entire life and you can’t tell a soul. No wonder you’re going nuts.”

Anna looked at her pleadingly. Juanita zipped up her lips and threw away the imaginary key. “Your secret’s safe with me. Promise.”

“Thank you.” Anna watched as Juanita expertly put the finishing touches on her makeup. It was at that instant that Anna decided that she really liked Juanita. Anna couldn’t believe that this was the same glamorous woman from the pages of all those magazines. She would have never imagined that the bigger-than-life Juanita Darrell could be so . . . real.

“So, do you think I should go back to the table and apologize before I leave?” Anna asked.

Juanita shooed the idea away. “The next time we get together, it will be forgotten. Trust me, they’d much rather live in their perfect little fantasy worlds than hold a grudge. Besides, everything you said was completely true.”

“What?” Fear flooded Anna’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, no. Not that. I don’t mean Donald Jackson. As far as I know, he really did kill himself. I mean all that crap about their husbands being Eagle Scouts.”

Anna’s tension eased instantly. “That did seem a little odd.”

“Like I said, they live in a fantasy world. They worship their lifestyles so much that they pretend not to see what’s staring them right in the face. Me, I refuse to play head games with myself. I ignore it because I choose to ignore it.”

“Ignore what, exactly?” Anna asked with some hesitation.

Juanita remained silent a moment. Then she sighed and said, “When they go off on their little trips, they literally disappear off the face of the earth for days. They’re completely out of contact, not just from us but from the entire world. Why?”

“What do you mean? When I called, you said it was because they’re in an isolated location.”

“Right. I told you that crap because that’s the crap they tell us. But come on, you’re a smart lady.”

Anna was puzzled. “I don’t know what you mean. Maybe I’m not as smart as you think.”

Juanita chuckled. “Ever hear of a satellite phone? You can make a call from anywhere on the planet with one. And I mean anywhere. I asked Damon to get one for when he goes on these trips, just for emergencies, and he completely refused. It’s the twenty-first century, for God’s sake. And those men have enough money to buy a whole satellite, much less a satellite phone. The only reason our husbands are out of touch is because they want to be out of touch. Plain and simple. Whatever they’re doing on these so-called camping trips, they don’t want us or anyone else to know about it.”

“But wait. Donald Jackson was pulled out of the river. I read that. That has to mean that they really go camping. At least that part of their story is real, right?”

Juanita shrugged. “I guess. But why do they need to be unreachable if it’s just a camping trip?”

Anna began to feel overwhelmed. She tried to reassure herself that Martin would never betray their marriage, but she quickly realized that, like the other wives, she was idealizing her man to soothe her own fears. Put in the wrong situation, she believed that any man could lose his footing, even Martin, as much as she hated to admit it. Anna looked at Juanita. “Okay, so what do we do?”

Juanita laughed. “We deal with it.” She nodded toward the restroom door. “Those women at our table, they deal with it by pretending that their husbands are saints. Me, I deal with it by calling it what it is, the cost of living a life that most women can only dream about. Our husbands are rich and powerful men, and your husband will be one soon too. These are men who can have anything and do anything they want. Okay, every once in a while they run off to some mysterious place and do Lord knows what, but then they come back home. They come back home to us, the women they love.”

“But aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know what they’re up to?”

Juanita shook her head. “Nah, let them have their little secret. And you and I, we’ll have ours.”

“What secret is that?”

Juanita smiled like the devil. “That we’re onto them.”