A Grant County Collection: Indelible, Faithless and Skin Privilege

  'Have you always done that?' Lena asked. 'Homeschooling, I mean.'

  'We were all homeschooled. All of us but Lev.' She smiled proudly. 'Paul had one of the highest SAT scores in the state when he entered UGA.'

  Lena wasn't interested in Paul's academic career. 'That's your only job at the farm? Teaching?'

  'Oh, no,' she laughed. 'Everyone on the farm has to do everything at some time. I started in the fields, just like Becca is doing. Zeke's a little too young now, but he'll start in the next few years. Papa believes you have to know every part of the company if you're going to run it some day. I got stuck in bookkeeping for a while. Unfortunately, I have a talent for numbers. If I had my way, I'd lie around on the couch all day reading. Papa wants us to be ready when something happens to him.'

  'You'll run the farm eventually?'

  She laughed again at the suggestion, as if running a company was something a woman couldn't possibly manage. 'Maybe Zeke or one of the boys will. The point is to be ready. It's also important considering our labor force isn't particularly motivated to stay. They're city people, used to a faster way of life. They love it here at first – the quiet, the solitude, the easiness of it compared to their old lives on the street, but then they start to get a little bored, then a lot bored, and before they know it, everything that made them love it here makes them want to run screaming. We try to be selective in our training. You don't want to spend a season teaching someone to do a specialized job when they're going to leave in the middle of it and go back to the city.'

  'Drugs?' Lena asked.

  'Of course,' she said. 'But we're very careful here. You have to earn trust. We don't allow alcohol or cigarettes on the farm. If you want to go into town, you're welcome to, but no one is going to give you a ride. We have them sign a behavioral contract the minute they step foot on the place. If they break it, they're gone. A lot more people than not appreciate that, and the new ones learn from the old-timers that when we say an infraction gets you sent back to Atlanta, we mean it.' Her tone softened. 'I know it sounds harsh, but we have to get rid of the bad ones so that the ones who are trying to be good have a chance. Surely, as a law enforcement officer, you understand that.'

  'How many people come and go?' Lena asked. 'Ballpark, I mean.'

  'Oh, I'd say we have about a seventy percent return rate.' Again, she deferred to the men in her family. 'You'd have to ask Lev or Paul for an exact percentage. They keep up with the running of things.'

  'But you've noticed people coming and going?'

  'Of course.'

  'What about Abby?' Lena asked. 'Is she happy here?'

  Esther smiled. 'I would hope so, but we never make people stay here if they don't want to.' Lena nodded as if she understood, but Esther felt the need to add, 'I know this all may sound odd to you. We're religious people, but we don't believe in forcing religion onto others. When you come to the Lord, it must be of your own volition or it means nothing to Him. I can tell from your questions that you're skeptical about the workings of the farm and my family, but I can assure you we're simply working for the greater good here. We're obviously not invested in material needs.' She indicated the house. 'What we're invested in is saving souls.'

  Her placid smile was more off-putting than anything Lena had experienced today. She tried to work with it, asking, 'What sort of things does Abby do on the farm?'

  'She's even better with numbers than I am,' Esther said proudly. 'She worked in the office for a while, but she started to get bored, so we all agreed she could start working as a sorter. It's not a highly difficult job, but it brings her into contact with a lot of people. She likes being in a crowd, blending in. I suppose every young girl feels that.'

  Lena waited a beat, wondering why the woman had yet to ask about her daughter. Either Esther was in denial or she knew exactly where Abby was. 'Did Abby know about the thefts?'

  'Not many people did,' Esther said. 'Lev likes to let the church handle church problems.'

  'The church?' Lena asked, as if she hadn't already figured this out.

  'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said, and Lena wondered why she started just about every sentence with an apology. 'The Church for the Greater Good. I always just assume everyone knows what we're about.'

  'And what are you about?'

  Lena obviously wasn't doing a good job of hiding her cynicism, but Esther still patiently explained, 'Holy Grown subsidizes our outreach into Atlanta.'

  'What kind of outreach?'

  'We try to carry on Jesus's work with the poor. We have contacts at several shelters for the homeless and abused women. Some halfway houses keep us on their speed dial. Sometimes we get men and women who have just gotten out of jail and have nowhere to go. It's appalling the way our penal system just chews these people up and spits them out.'

  'Do you keep any information on them?'

  'As much as we can,' Esther said, returning to the lemonade. 'We have education facilities where they learn manufacturing. The soy business has changed over the last ten years.'

  'It's in just about everything,' Lena said, thinking it would be unwise to mention that the only reason she knew this was because she lived with a tofu-eating health-food-nut lesbian.

  'Yes,' Esther agreed. She took three glasses out of the cabinet.

  Lena offered, 'I'll get the ice.' She opened the freezer and saw a huge block of ice instead of the cubes she'd been expecting.

  'Just use your hands,' Esther said. 'Or I could –'

  'I've got it,' Lena told her, taking out the block, getting the front of her shirt wet in the process.

  'We have an icehouse across the road for cold storage. It seems a shame to waste water here when there's plenty across the street.' She indicated Lena should set the block in the sink. 'We try to preserve as many of our natural resources as we can,' she said, using an ice pick to dislodge some shards. 'Papa was the first farmer in the region to use natural irrigation from rainwater. Of course, we have too much land for that now, but we reclaim as much as we can.'

  Thinking of Jeffrey's earlier question about possible sources of cyanide, Lena asked, 'What about pesticides?'

  'Oh, no,' Esther said, dropping some ice into the glasses. 'We don't use those – never have. We use natural fertilizers. You have no idea what phosphates do to the water table. Oh, no.' She laughed. 'Papa made it clear from the start that we would do it the natural way. We're all a part of this land. We have a responsibility to our neighbors and the people who come to the land after us.'

  'That sounds very . . .' Lena looked for a positive word. 'Responsible.'

  'Most people think it's a lot of trouble for nothing,' Esther said. 'It's a difficult situation to be in. Do we poison the environment and make more money that we can use to help the needy, or do we maintain our principles and help fewer people? It's the sort of question Jesus often raised: Help the many or help the few?' She handed Lena one of the glasses. 'Does this taste too sweet for you? I'm afraid we don't normally use much sugar around here.'

  Lena took a sip, feeling her jaw clench into a death grip. 'It's a little tart,' she managed, trying to suppress the guttural sound welling in her throat.

  'Oh.' Esther took out the sugar again, spooning more into Lena's glass. 'Now?'

  Lena tried again, taking a less generous sip. 'Good,' she said.

  'Good,' Esther echoed, spooning more into another glass. She left the third alone, and Lena hoped it wasn't meant for Jeffrey.

  'Everyone's particular, aren't they?' Esther asked, walking past Lena toward the hall.

  Lena followed. 'What's that?'

  'About tastes,' she explained. 'Abby loves sweets. Once, when she was a baby, she ate almost a full cup of sugar before I realized she had gotten into the cabinet.'

  They passed the library, and Lena said, 'You have a lot of books.'

  'Classics, mostly. Some potboilers and westerns of course. Ephraim loves crime fiction. I guess he's attracted to the black and white of it all. The good guys on one side, the bad g
uys on the other.'

  'It'd be nice,' Lena found herself saying.

  'Becca loves romances. Show her a book with a long-haired Adonis on the cover and she'll finish it in two hours.'

  'You let her read romances?' Lena asked. She had been thinking these people were the same kind of nutballs who got on the news for banning Harry Potter.

  'We let the children read anything they like. That's the deal for not having a television in the house. Even if they're reading trash, it's better than watching it on the tube.'

  Lena nodded, though in her mind she wondered what it would be like to live without television. Watching mindless TV was the only thing that had kept her sane the last three years.

  'There you are,' Lev said when they entered the room. He took a glass from Esther and handed it to Jeffrey.

  'Oh, no,' Esther said, taking it back. 'This one's yours.' She handed the sweeter lemonade to Jeffrey, who, like Ephraim, had stood when they entered the room. 'I don't imagine you like it as tart as Lev does.'

  'No, ma'am,' Jeffrey agreed. 'Thank you.'

  The front door opened and a man who looked like the male version of Esther walked in, his hand at the elbow of an older woman who seemed too fragile to walk by herself.

  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 mid-forties, 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.