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Authors: Karin Slaughter

Tags: #Tolliver, #Georgia, #Fiction, #Linton, #Police chiefs, #Young women, #Police, #General, #Women Physicians, #Jeffrey (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Forensic pathologists, #Sara (Fictitious Character), #Suspense

Faithless (22 page)

BOOK: Faithless
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“Water,” May-Lynn said, sloshing a glass down in front of Esther.

Jeffrey’s patience was up. “Give us a minute, okay?”

May-Lynn shrugged, as if he was in the wrong, before shuffling back to the counter.

Jeffrey took his turn with the apologies as he dabbed up the spilled water with a handful of flimsy paper napkins. “I’m sorry about that,” he told Esther. “Business is kind of slow.”

Esther watched his hands as if she had never seen anyone clean a table. Jeffrey thought it was more likely she’d never seen a man clean up after himself. He asked, “So, you saw last night that she was gone?”

“I called Rachel first. Becca stayed with my sister the night we realized Abby was missing. I didn’t want her out in the dark with us while we searched. I needed to know where she was.” Esther paused, taking a sip of water. Jeffrey saw that her hand trembled. “I thought she might have gone back there.”

“But she hadn’t?”

Esther shook her head. “I called Paul next,” she said. “He told me not to worry.” She made an almost disgusted sound. “Lev said the same thing. She’s always come back, but with Abby…” She gulped in air as if she couldn’t breathe. “With Abby gone…”

“Did she say anything before she left?” Jeffrey asked. “Maybe she was acting differently?”

Esther dug into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a piece of paper. “She left this.”

Jeffrey took the folded note the woman offered, feeling a little like he had been tricked. The paper had a pink tint, the ink was black. A girlish scrawl read, “Mama, Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back.”

Jeffrey stared at the note, not knowing what to say. The fact that the girl had left a note changed a lot of things. “This is her writing?”

“Yes.”

“On Monday, you told my detective that Rebecca has run away before.”

“Not like this,” she insisted. “She’s never left a note before.”

Jeffrey thought in the scheme of things the girl was probably just trying to be considerate. “How many times has this happened?”

“In May and June of last year,” she listed. “Then February this year.”

“Do you know any reason why she might run away?”

“I don’t understand.”

Jeffrey tried to phrase his words carefully. “Girls don’t usually just up and run away. Usually they’re running away from something.”

He could have slapped the woman in the face and got a better response. She folded the note and tucked it back into her pocket as she stood. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“Mrs. Bennett-”

She was halfway out the door, and he just missed catching her as she ran down the stairs.

“Mrs. Bennett,” he said, following her into the parking lot. “Don’t go like this.”

“They said you’d say that.”

“Who said?”

“My husband. My brothers.” Her shoulders were shaking. She took out a tissue and wiped her nose. “They said you would blame us, that it was useless to even try to talk to you.”

“I don’t recall blaming anybody.”

She shook her head as she turned around. “I know what you’re thinking, Chief Tolliver.”

“I doubt-”

“Paul said you’d be this way. Outsiders never understand. We’ve come to accept that. I don’t know why I tried.” She pressed her lips together, her resolve strengthened by anger. “You may not agree with my beliefs, but I am a mother. One of my daughters is dead and the other is missing. I know something is wrong. I know that Rebecca would never be so selfish as to leave me at a time like this unless she felt she had to.”

Jeffrey thought she was answering his earlier question without admitting it to herself. He tried to be even more careful this time. “Why would she have to?”

Esther seemed to cast around for an answer, but didn’t offer it to Jeffrey.

He tried again. “Why would she have to leave?”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Again, he pressed: “Why would she leave?”

She said nothing.

“Mrs. Bennett?”

She gave up, tossing her hands into the air, crying, “I don’t know!”

Jeffrey let Esther stand there, cold wind whipping up her collar. Her nose was red from crying, tears running down her cheeks. “She wouldn’t do this,” she sobbed. “She wouldn’t do this unless she had to.”

After a few more seconds, Jeffrey reached past her and opened the car door. He helped Esther inside, kneeling beside her so they could talk. He knew without looking that May-Lynn was standing at the window watching the show, and he wanted to do everything he could to protect Esther Bennett.

He hoped she heard his compassion when he asked her, “Tell me what she was running away from.”

Esther dabbed at her eyes, then concentrated on the tissue in her hand, folding and unfolding it as if she could find the answer somewhere on the crumpled paper. “She’s so different from Abby,” she finally said. “So rebellious. Nothing like me at that age. Nothing like any of us.” Despite her words, she insisted, “She’s so precious. Such a powerful soul. My fierce little angel.”

Jeffrey asked, “What was she rebelling against?”

“Rules,” Esther said. “Everything she could find.”

“When she ran away before,” Jeffrey began, “where did she go?”

“She said she camped in the woods.”

Jeffrey felt his heart stop. “Which woods?”

“The Catoogah forest. When they were children, they camped there all the time.”

“Not the state park in Grant?”

She shook her head. “How would she get there?” she asked. “It’s miles from home.”

Jeffrey didn’t like the idea of Rebecca being in any forest, especially considering what had happened to her sister. “Was she seeing any boys?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I don’t know anything about her life. I thought I knew about Abby, but now…” She put her hand to her mouth. “I don’t know anything.”

Jeffrey’s knee started to ache and he sat back on his heels to take off the pressure. “Rebecca didn’t want to be in the church?” he guessed.

“We let them choose. We don’t force them into the life. Mary’s children chose…” She took a deep breath, letting it go slowly. “We let them choose when they’re old enough to know their own minds. Lev went off to college. Paul strayed for a while. He came back, but I never stopped loving him. He never stopped being my brother.” She threw her hands into the air. “I just don’t understand. Why would she leave? Why would she do this now?”

Jeffrey had dealt with many missing-children cases over the years. Thankfully, most of them had resolved themselves fairly easily. The kid got cold or hungry and came back, realizing there were worse things than having to clean up your room or eat your peas. Something told him Rebecca Bennett wasn’t running away from chores, but he felt the need to calm some of Esther’s fears.

He spoke as gently as he could. “Becca’s run away before.”

“Yes.”

“She always comes back in a day or two.”

“She’s always come back to her family- all of her family.” She seemed almost defeated, as if Jeffrey wasn’t understanding her. “We’re not what you think.”

He wasn’t sure what he thought. He hated to admit it, but he was seeing why her brothers hadn’t been as alarmed as Esther. If Rebecca made a habit of running away for a few days, scaring the crap out of everybody and then coming back, this could be just another cry for attention. The question was, why did she feel she needed attention? Was it some sort of teenage urge for attention? Or something more sinister?

“Ask your questions,” Esther said, visibly bracing herself. “Go ahead.”

“Mrs. Bennett…” he began.

Some of her composure had returned. “I think if you’re going to ask me if my daughters were being molested by my brothers, you should at least call me Esther.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“No,” she said, her answer requiring no thought. “Monday, I was afraid of you telling me that my daughter was dead. Now I am afraid of you telling me that there’s no hope for Rebecca. The truth scares me, Chief Tolliver. I’m not afraid of conjecture.”

“I need you to answer my question, Esther.”

She took her time, as if it made her sick to even consider. “My brothers have never been inappropriate with my children. My husband has never been inappropriate with my children.”

“What about Cole Connolly?”

She shook her head once. “Believe me when I tell you this,” she assured him. “If anyone did harm to my children- not just my children, but any child- I would kill them with my bare hands and let God be my judge.”

He stared at her for a beat. Her clear green eyes were sharp with conviction. He believed her, or at least he believed that she believed herself.

She asked him, “What are you going to do?”

“I can put out an APB and make some phone calls. I’ll call the sheriff in Catoogah, but honestly, your daughter has a history of running away and she left a note.” He let that settle in, considering it himself. If Jeffrey had wanted to abduct Rebecca Bennett, he’d probably do it just like that: leave a note, let her history protect him for a few days.

“Do you think you’ll find her?”

Jeffrey did not let himself dwell on the possibility of a fourteen-year-old somewhere in a shallow grave. “If I find her,” he began, “I want to talk to her.”

“You talked to her before.”

“I want to talk to her alone,” Jeffrey said, knowing he had no right to ask this, just as he knew Esther could always renounce her promise. “She’s underage. Legally, I can’t talk to her without the permission of at least one of her parents.”

She took her time again, obviously weighing the consequences. Finally, she nodded. “You have my permission.”

“You know she’s probably camping out somewhere,” he told her, feeling guilty for taking advantage of her desperation, hoping to God he was right about the girl. “She’ll probably come back on her own in a day or so.”

She took the note back out of her pocket. “Find her,” she said, pressing the page into his hand. “Please. Find her.”

***

When Jeffrey got back to the station, there was a large bus parked in the back of the lot, the words “Holy Grown Farms” stenciled on the side. Workers milled around outside despite the cold, and he could see the front lobby was packed with bodies. He suppressed a curse as he got out of his car, wondering if this was Lev Ward’s idea of a joke.

Inside, he pushed his way through the smelliest bunch of derelicts he’d seen since the last time he’d driven through downtown Atlanta. He held his breath, waiting for Marla to buzz him in, thinking he might be sick if he stayed in the hot room for much longer.

“Hey there, Chief,” Marla said, taking his coat. “I guess you know what this is all about.”

Frank walked up, a sour look on his face. “They’ve been here for two hours. It’s gonna take all day just getting their names.”

Jeffrey asked, “Where’s Lev Ward?”

“Connolly said he had to stay home with one of his sisters.”

“Which one?”

“Hell if I know,” Frank said, obviously over the experience of interviewing the great unwashed. “Said she had diabetes or something like that.”

“Shit,” Jeffrey cursed, thinking Ward really was jerking his chain. Not only was his absence wasting time, but it meant Mark McCallum, the polygraph expert the GBI had sent, would be spending another night in town courtesy of the Grant County Police Department.

Jeffrey took out his notepad and wrote down Rebecca Bennett’s name and description. He slid a photograph out of his pocket, handing it to Frank. “Abby’s sister,” he said. “Put her details on the wire. She’s been missing since ten o’clock last night.”

“Shit.”

“She’s run away before,” Jeffrey qualified, “but I don’t like this coming so close to her sister’s death.”

“You think she knows something?”

“I think she’s running away for a reason.”

“Did you call Two-Bit?”

Jeffrey scowled. He had called Ed Pelham on his way back to the station. As predicted, the neighboring sheriff had pretty much laughed in his face. Jeffrey couldn’t blame the man- the girl had a history of running away- but he had thought that Ed would take it more seriously, considering what had happened to Abigail Bennett.

He asked Frank, “Is Brad still searching the area around the lake?” Frank nodded. “Tell him to go home and get his backpack or camping gear or whatever. Get him and Hemming to go into the Catoogah state forest and start looking around. If anyone stops them, for God’s sake, tell him to say they’re out camping.”

“All right.”

Frank turned to leave but Jeffrey stopped him. “Update the APB on Donner to include the possibility he might be with a girl.” Anticipating Frank’s next question, he shrugged, saying, “Throw it at the wall and see what sticks.”

“Will do,” he said. “I put Connolly in interrogation one. You gonna get to him next?”

“I want him to stew,” Jeffrey answered. “How long do you think it’ll take to get through the rest of these interviews?”

“Five, maybe six hours.”

“Anything interesting so far?”

“Not unless you count Lena threatening to backhand one of them if he didn’t shut up about Jesus being Lord.” He added, “I think this is wasting our fucking time.”

“Have to agree with you,” Jeffrey said. “I want you to go ahead and talk to the people on your list who bought cyanide salts from the dealer in Atlanta.”

“I’ll leave right after I talk to Brad and update the APB.”

Jeffrey went to his office and picked up the phone before he even sat down. He called Lev Ward’s number at Holy Grown and navigated his way through the switchboard. As he was on hold, Marla walked in and put a stack of messages on his desk. He thanked her just as Lev Ward’s voice mail picked up.

“This is Chief Tolliver,” he said. “I need you to call me as soon as possible.” Jeffrey left his cell phone number, not wanting to give Lev the easy out of leaving a message. He rang off and picked up his notes from last night, unable to make any sense of the long lists he had made. There were questions for each family member, but in the cold light of day he realized that asking any one of them would get Paul Ward in the room so fast that his head would spin.

Legally, none of them had to talk to the police. He had no cause to force them to come in and he doubted very seriously if Lev Ward would deliver on his promise to take the lie detector test. Running their names through the computer hadn’t brought up much information. Jeffrey had tried Cole Connolly’s name, but without a middle initial or something more specific like a birth date or previous address, the search had returned about six hundred Cole Connollys in the southern United States. Opening it up to Coleman Connolly had added another three hundred.

BOOK: Faithless
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ads

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