by Alex Gates
“How many children are here?”
“Well…five in diapers. Three who still have the occasional accident.”
“Where are yours?”
That stole her smile, but only for a moment. “Oh. I have…none. I lost my son some time ago.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached across the table and patted her wrist. She liked the contact.
How damaged was she if she liked being touched after what happened to her?
How damaged was I that I hated to be touched after what happened to me?
“How long ago?” I asked.
“A while.”
I tilted my head. “Fifteen years?”
Anna’s gaze snapped to mine, and in that instant I saw something sharper, something far more intelligent than I had given her credit for. “I don’t think you can understand this pain, not if you’ve never had a child. The day is forever seared into my memory, and it kills me every moment of every day that I never got a chance to hold my son. But the Lord needed my boy with him, and so he’s now in Heaven. Safe. I regret that I can’t give Jacob any more sons, but his first wife had provided him with five beautiful children. He has the large family he’s always wanted.”
I eased back from the subject. “Everyone here has big families?”
“Yes.” She relaxed. “The children complete our lives. It might seem old-fashioned, but we’re…devoted to large families.”
“Quiverfull?”
She gave a wishy-washy shrug. “If a man and woman are truly husband and wife, then we should welcome every blessing the Lord gives as long as we are…capable.”
I softened my voice and lied. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
“The miscarriage had complications. I don’t believe I’ll ever have another child. But I have many nieces and nephews, grand-nieces and nephews, and of course, my own step-sons and daughters.”
“What about Rebecca?”
“Who?”
“Nina Martin’s baby.”
“Nina? I don’t know anyone—”
“Rachel. She went by Rachel while she was here. Jonah’s wife.”
Anna covered her heart with a hand. “Those two poor souls. Detective, I know what you must think, but Rachel was so young. She lived here for over a year, but she wasn’t well. She became infatuated with Jonah.”
“Did Jonah feel the same way?”
“I can’t tell you what Jonah felt or thought…” She seemed to crumble, a deep breath all that kept her from weeping. “If I could, I might have prevented him from…I might’ve saved us this ugliness.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” I said. “But I need some information.”
“I’m not sure how much I can help…didn’t the homicide detectives already speak with my husband about all this?”
“They discussed Jonah. But I’m interested in Rachel. Her real name was Nina Martin, and she ran away from home at twelve. I know just before she was murdered, she had prepared a nursery for a baby.” I paused, long enough for Anna to look up. “Where’s her baby, Eve?”
“There is no baby.”
“Why did she have the nursery?”
She shook her head. “Rachel…she was a special girl, but she wasn’t well. We did what we could for her, but she endured such trauma from her time homeless and alone—just like most of the girls experience before they find safety here. I don’t know exactly what happened to Rachel, but it hurt her—mentally. She was sick, Detective. There’s no baby.”
The lie came so easily.
Did she believe it, or did the confidence come from spinning the story herself?
But Anna seemed so honest. No fidgeting. No hedging. No telltale twitches or shady glances to the side that might have precipitated a lie.
I’d done my share of interrogations. Either Anna was the greatest liar I’d ever met, or…
Even she didn’t know the difference between the truth and Jacob’s perverted inventions.
“We can’t save everyone,” Anna said. “That’s what Jacob says. Even his own son was tempted to an evil we couldn’t understand. I wish I had protected them, but Jonah and Rachel knew what would happen if they left. The world isn’t safe outside of our farm.”
“Why not?”
Anna pushed her plate, stealing only the apples from inside the pie and leaving her crust. “You see it every day, Detective. Violence. Cruelty. Hunger. The farm protects us from all of that unpleasantness.”
“Is that why no one leaves?”
“What do you mean?”
“Pastor Kerst mentioned that the girls you take in don’t leave the farm.”
“Why would they?” Anna asked. “This is their home—doesn’t matter if they’re ten like Mariam or sixty. They can stay for as long as they wish. Pastor Kerst is a lovely man, but he doesn’t understand our ways.”
“Is that why you don’t attend his services anymore?”
“You have researched us, haven’t you, Detective?”
I shrugged. “And there’s still lots I have to learn. I’d rather know the truth than gossip.”
Anna nodded. “Wouldn’t we all? The truth is, we disagree on a few tenants of Pastor Kerst’s flock, and Jacob thought it best to have our own services right here. And with John finally out of seminary, it was time.”
“Did you disagree with Pastor Kerst?”
“Oh…” Anna smiled. “I defer to my husband in those matters.”
All matters, probably. “Faith?”
“Of course faith. He is the head of this household.”
“And you submit to that?”
Anna wagged a finger. “You make it sound so terrible. But you’re a detective. Surely you have a commanding officer. A sergeant? And he answers to the captain?”
“A lieutenant.”
“It is the same with our family. As a wife, I support my husband. And he acts as the head of our household and church. He defers to God.”
“From what I’ve learned about Jacob…it doesn’t sound like he defers to anyone.”
It earned a chuckle. “He is a willful and stubborn man, yes.”
“I would like to speak with him.”
“So would I. But he’s been so busy lately with the farm and preparing for the wedding.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“One of our family.”
I nodded. “I’d like to meet them too. You should call her over. There’s plenty of pie to share.”
“If only…” Anna murmured. “Unfortunately, the girls here don’t like the police. They’ve had bad experiences in their past, and…” She lowered her gaze. “Well, they’ve been traumatized. In many ways.”
“You’re talking to me,” I said. “Are you braver than them?”
“I’m Jacob’s wife, Detective. I must be brave. Strong.”
“Why?”
“Because this is his farm. His charity. His love. As his wife, I’ve taken on more responsibility than you realize.”
“Like?”
“Someone must care for the children when they come here. Someone has to love them, has to show them that there is nothing left to fear or hate or run from.” She hesitated. “I love Jacob, but the marriage means more than my feelings for my husband. It’s a responsibility to this church and home and farm. I watch over the girls.”
But who watches over them once they’ve been given to the men?
The chiming of bells echoed over the farm. The clanging cadence rang harsh and jarring. Anna stood, quickly, fretting over her hair and dress.
“Oh, I’m just a mess for evening prayers.” She patted the flour from her skirts as best she could. “Serves me right for scolding all the others about getting ready. Here I am, going to the chapel with a pocketful of bread.” She scooped a handful of flour out of her apron before tossing the whole thing in the sink with a sigh. “A woman’s work, right, Detective?”
“You’re called to prayers?”
“It’s a pre-dinner ritual here. A nice tradition to end the day before we
sit down and eat as a family.” She grinned, her eyes widening, bright and excited. “You must come with us. You can sit in on prayers, and we’ll all have dinner together. Won’t that be nice? We so seldom have guests...”
A heavy creak from the hall diverted her attention in mid-sentence. She silenced, turning to face the shadow that cloaked the room in a sudden chill.
I rarely had cause to reach for my gun.
Jacob Goodman’s presence was all the reasonable suspicion, probable cause, and direct threat I needed.
But his brother had kept my weapon, and I had nothing beyond a badge to defend me from whatever retribution Jacob decided to inflict.
Jacob’s shadow filled the parts of the kitchen his huge bulk did not. I hadn’t expected the beast of a man. Jacob wasn’t the first bull to tower over me, but my every instinct screamed caution. No matter the grey peppered in his hair, the lines in his face, or how affectionately his wife called to him, I recognized the true danger in this man.
“Wouldn’t that be nice, Jacob?” Anna asked, her suggestion a demure whisper. “The detective could stay for dinner.”
His voice didn’t rasp. It dragged like sandpaper against the words, grating the sounds with a primitive grunt. His deep, throbbing baritone knew only command and order. I doubted he had ever raised his voice. Probably never needed to.
“Maybe another time.” His eyes flattened, a colorless dark. Dead and searching for more misery. “This is a family service tonight.”
Louisa was right.
He was evil.
Any doubt, any hesitation I’d felt during my conversation with Anna? Gone.
Jacob Goodman wasn’t larger than life. He controlled it.
Every breath taken on the farm, every word spoken, and every baby born was because of his will. He gave the permissions, and he decided the punishments.
My trespass in his home wouldn’t be forgotten.
Or forgiven.
The cold fear clutching my heart wasn’t worry for myself. I stared at Anna.
How much danger would she be in for talking to me?
Would he know she had remained loyal? She’d lied for him, but would he care?
Or did I endanger her life too?
“I should be going,” I said. “My sergeant texted me to report back to the precinct.”
“Well…wait.” Anna pulled a glass plate from her cupboard and sectioned off a giant segment of pie. She plopped it onto the plate and wrapped it up tight with plastic. “Take some pie home. It’s not often I get to entertain guests.”
I stared at Jacob. No wonder.
“Detective.” He reached for his pocket. I tensed, but he handed me my gun. Nothing was left in the clip, but at least he returned it. “This is the last time you’ll visit.”
It wasn’t a question. More a command.
Not one I was likely to obey.
“I might have cause to return…” Soon. “Thank you for the hospitality.”
Anna guided me towards the door. “Let me walk you out, Detective.”
Jacob’s warning wasn’t one she should have ignored. “Eve. You’ll be late for prayers.”
“I can hurry over in the snow, don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
I prepared for violence, but Jacob said nothing, letting his wife escort me from her home. She delayed only to toss a shawl over her shoulders.
The farm burst to life as the bells tolled, and the family scattered to the chapel. Anna called to a boy sprinting over the frozen dirt.
“No running, Isaac! You’ll break your neck on the ice you forgot to salt!”
The boy apologized and immediately slowed his steps. She chuckled.
“The kids here get so excited. But it really makes the place…come alive.” She extended her hand, but her brow furrowed. “Where’s your car, Detective?”
Parked somewhere in the woods where Simon had undoubtedly uncovered it.
I didn’t release her hand. “You should come with me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know who you are, Eve. I know what’s happened to you.”
Her lips twitched into a thin line. “I’m afraid I don’t understand—”
“I can help, if you give me the chance.”
Her shoulders slumped, but she gave a short sigh. “Detective, there’s nothing to help. Don’t worry about me. Protect your own soul.”
My stomach clenched. I met her gaze, and her eyes—more green than brown—haunted me with an unwavering conviction.
“Why should I protect my soul?”
“Because you’ve already endured enough hellfire.”
Was it a code? Louisa’s fire?
Damn it. Did she know?
She must have heard, must have realized it was her husband who ordered someone to endanger her sister’s life.
No wonder she didn’t want to talk.
She was protecting Louisa!
Just as she attempted to protect me.
“Eve, if you’re in trouble,” I said, “if anyone is in trouble, I can get you out.”
She took my hand, holding it tight. “The only person who is causing trouble is you. We are safe with Jacob. But you…” She glanced to the chapel, watching as her husband spoke with his three brothers outside of the building. “You shouldn’t return.”
“I’ll save you. I swear it, Anna.”
She released my hand, taking a few quiet steps backward, towards her family.
Her captors.
“But, Detective…who is going to save you?”
19
Of course, you want to go home. I understand.
You won’t ever leave, but I understand.
-Him.
“You went on their property?” Adamski slammed the door to his office. “It’s like you’re gunning for a mistrial!”
Oh Lord. “The Goodmans tattled on me?”
Adamski hiked his pants a little higher. Over his navel meant one hell of a lecture. “Pull this shit, and I won’t just kick you off the case. I’ll suspend your ass.”
“I didn’t realize it was their property.”
“You entered their house.”
“That was after Simon Goodman and his family convinced me to stay for pie and coffee.”
“How?”
“Well, the five rifles aiming at my head were real hospitable.”
Adamski’s blood pressure could only take so much. “What the hell happened?”
I dropped the camera equipment on his desk. “I was doing my surveillance, trying to determine who each woman is. I needed decent photos to scan with the FBI’s facial recognition software. I know those women are in the Missing Persons database. This could prove it.” I arched an eyebrow. “But Simon and his brothers and sons found me first.”
“Did they attack you?”
“No. They took me back to their compound.” I smirked. “I ate dessert with Anna Prescott.”
He plopped into his chair, scanning my expression for any doubts. He wouldn’t find them. “Are you sure it’s her?”
“Same features. Identical to her pictures. Portwine birthmark on her neck. It’s Anna.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you bring her with you?”
That question had caused a night’s worth of insomnia. “It’s complicated. Anna acted as if she didn’t know who she really was. She called herself Eve. Talked about the farm as if she belonged there. She, apparently, loves her husband.” Not that he understood the meaning of the word. “If she would verify it, I could prove Jacob Goodman raped her when she was underage. But she’s…”
“What?”
“Brainwashed.”
“London—”
“I’m serious.” I paced the office. Most of the guys had gone home, but if I could have had them here, listening, helping me to free the girls from the farm, I’d have traded all the favors, coffee, and pastries I could find. “We have to get them out of there. As soon as possible.”
“If you’re right…these things take time. We’
ve gotta get warrants, SWAT teams organized, briefings, maps of the property—”
“They’re planning a wedding.” The words sickened me. “And the only available girls to wed…they’re kids. Teenagers if they’re lucky, Bruce.”
His knuckles rapped the desk—swollen today. He didn’t wince, only stared into nothing, thinking.
“Did Anna admit to being raped?” he asked.
“No.”
“Did anyone there exhibit any physical, observable signs of abuse?”
“No.”
“Did you see anything that might have implied any sort of misconduct?”
“Goddamn it, no.”
“Then what do you want me to do? We can’t legally go in without probable cause.”
“What about Nina’s baby? Can’t we use her for a search warrant?”
“You have no proof that they’re keeping Nina Martin’s baby on that farm.”
“I heard the baby. She’s the right age. She’s living in Anna’s house. That is Jonah’s child—a child he created with an underage Nina Martin.”
“And the DA will ream your ass from one side of the station to the other if you can’t bring her any evidence of her paternity.”
I slammed my hands on the desk, spilling his Coke and scattering pens. “They’re holding these girls captive! They’ve brainwashed them! Raped them!”
“And until we see one of them doing it, we have no leverage. The farm is a haven for troubled teens. The paperwork is sound. Taxes are filed. We need probable cause to get onto that farm, and if you can’t even get CPS to file a single complaint, we have nothing.”
I bit my cheek before I said anything I’d regret.
Didn’t bite hard enough.
“Then another little girl is going to have her innocence stolen. And we’re going to sit here and do nothing while they hurt her.”
I’d put my foot through the door, but an officer opened before my wages were garnished for any repairs.
Bruce called after me, shouting as I kicked my chair away from the desk. “I’ll talk to my CO. Maybe Lieutenant Clark will have an idea.”
Unless it involved a SWAT team and an immediate evacuation of the farm, I didn’t want to hear it.
And unless I got out of the station and went home to sleep, I wouldn’t have to worry about the girls. An aneurysm would kill me first.
