Karin Slaughter - Faithless

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!”

Mary had been sitting quietly in the chair, but she stood abruptly, her hand to her chest, then ran from the room. Seconds later, they heard the kitchen door slam.

Lev had remained silent as he watched his sister go, and though Lena couldn’t read his expression, she got the feeling he was angered by Mary’s melodramatic exit.

He cleared his throat before asking, “Chief Tolliver, could you tell us what happened?”

Jeffrey hesitated, and Lena wondered how much he would tell them. “We found her in the woods,” he said. “She was buried in the ground.”

“Oh, Lord,” Esther breathed, doubling over as if in pain. Rachel rubbed her sister’s back, her lips trembling, tears streaming down her face.

Jeffrey didn’t offer specifics as he continued, “She ran out of air.”

“My baby,” Esther moaned. “My poor Abigail.”

The kids from the pigpen came in, the screen door slamming closed behind them. The adults all jumped as if a gun had been fired.

Ephraim spoke first, obviously struggling to regain his composure. “Zeke, what have you been told about the door?”

Zeke leaned against Lev’s leg. He was a spindly kid, not yet showing signs of his father’s height. His arms were as thin as toothpicks. “Sorry, Uncle Eph.”

“Sorry, Papa,” Becca said, though she hadn’t been the one to slam the door. She too was stick-thin, and though Lena wasn’t good with ages, she wouldn’t have put the girl at fourteen. She obviously hadn’t hit puberty yet.

Zeke was staring at his aunt, his lips trembling. He obviously sensed something was wrong. Tears sprang into his eyes.

“Come here, child,” Rachel said, dragging Zeke into her lap. She put her hand on his leg, petting him, soothing him. She was trying to control her grief, but losing the battle.

Rebecca kept to the door, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Lev put his hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Your sister has passed on to be with the Lord.”

The teenager’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened and she put her hand to her stomach. She tried to ask a question, but no words came out.

Lev said, “Let’s pray together.”

Rebecca breathed, “What?” as if the air had been knocked out of her.

No one answered her question. All of them but Rebecca bowed their heads, yet instead of the booming sermon from Lev that Lena expected, they were silent.