Faithless

by Karin Slaughter

  “So,” Lena surmised, “Cole was picking out the ‘weak’ ones, dangling drugs or whatever in front of their faces, seeing if they would take them and prove him right.”

  “And the ones who took them ended up going to their maker,” Jeffrey said, but she could tell from his crocodile smile he had more.

  She asked, “What?”

  He told her, “The Church for the Greater Good paid for all the cremations.”

  “Cremations,” Frank repeated. “So, we can’t exhume the bodies.”

  Lena knew there was more to it than that. She asked, “What am I missing?”

  Jeffrey told them, “Paul Ward got all their death certificates.”

  Stupidly, Lena began, “Why would he need—” but answered her own question before she finished. “Life insurance.”

  “Bingo,” Jeffrey said, handing Frank the paper with the names. “Get Hemming and go through the phone book. Do we have one for Savannah?” Frank nodded. “Find the big insurance companies. We’ll start there first. Don’t call the local agents, call the corporate national fraud hotlines. The local agents might be involved.”

  Lena asked, “Will they give out that information over the phone?”

  “They will if they think they’ve been cheated out of some dough,” Frank said. “I’ll get right on it.”

  As Frank left the room, Jeffrey pointed his finger at Lena. “I knew this had to be about money. It had to be about something concrete.”

  She had to admit, “You were right.”

  “We found our general,” he told her. “Cole said he was just an old soldier, but he needed a general to tell him what to do.”

  “Abby was in Savannah a few days before she died. Maybe she found out about the life insurance policies.”

  “How?” Jeffrey asked.

  “Her mother said she worked in the office for a while. That she was good with numbers.”

  “Lev saw her in the office once at the photocopier. Maybe she saw something she wasn’t meant to.” He paused, mulling over the possibilities. “Rachel said Abby went to Savannah before she died because Paul had left some papers behind in his briefcase. Maybe Abby saw the policies.”

  She asked, “So, you think Abby confronted him in Savannah?”

  Jeffrey nodded. “And Paul called Cole to prod him on to punish her.”

  “Or he called Lev.”

  “Or Lev,” he agreed.

  “Cole already knew about Chip. He followed him and Abby out into the woods.” She had to say, “I don’t know, though. It’s strange. Paul didn’t strike me as the overly religious type.”

  “Why would he have to be?”

  “Telling Cole to bury his niece in a coffin in the woods?” she asked. “Lev seems more like your general to me.” She added, “Plus, Paul was never in Dale’s garage. If that’s where the cyanide came from, then it points straight back to Lev, because he’s the only one we can connect to the garage.” She paused a moment. “Or Cole.”

  “I don’t think it was Cole,” Jeffrey insisted. “Did you ever have a real conversation with Terri Stanley about that?”

  She felt her blush come back, this time from shame. “No.”

  His lips pressed into a tight line, but he didn’t say the obvious. If she had talked to Terri before, maybe they wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Maybe Rebecca would be safe at home, Cole Connolly would still be alive, and they would be back in the interrogation room, talking to the person who had killed Abigail Bennett.

  “I fucked up,” she said.

  “Yeah, you did.” He waited a few seconds before saying, “You don’t listen to me, Lena. I need to be able to trust you to do what I say.” He paused as if he expected her to interrupt him. She didn’t, and he continued, “You can be a good cop, a smart cop. That’s why I made you detective.” She looked down, unable to take the compliment, knowing what was coming next. “Everything that happens in this town is my responsibility, and if somebody gets hurt or worse because you can’t follow my orders, then it’s all on me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough this time. Sorry means you understand what I’m saying and you’re not going to do it again.” He let that sink in. “I’ve heard sorry one too many times now. I need to see actions, not hear empty words.”

  His quiet tone was worse than if he had yelled at her. Lena looked down at the floor, wondering how many times he was going to let her screw things up before he finally cut her loose.

  He stood quickly, taking her by surprise. Lena flinched, gripped by an inexplicable panic that he was going to hit her.

  Jeffrey was shocked, looking at her as if he had never seen her in his life.

  “I just—” She couldn’t find the words to say. “You scared me.”

  Jeffrey leaned out the door, telling Marla, “Send back the woman who’s about to walk in.” He told Lena, “Mary Ward is here. I just saw her pull up into the parking lot.”

  Lena tried to regain her composure. “I thought she didn’t like to drive.”

  “Guess she made an exception,” Jeffrey answered, still looking at her like she was a book he couldn’t read. “Are you going to be able to do this?”

  “Of course,” she said, pushing herself out of the chair. She tucked in her shirt, feeling fidgety and out of place.

  He took her hand in both of his, and she felt another shock. He never touched her like that. It wasn’t something he did.

  He said, “I need you to be on your game right now.”

  “You’ve got me,” she assured him, pulling back her hand to tuck in her shirt again even though it was already tight. “Let’s go.”

  Lena didn’t wait for him. She squared her shoulders and walked across the squad room with purposeful strides. Marla’s hand was on the buzzer as Lena opened the door.

  Mary Ward stood in the lobby, her purse clutched to her chest.

  “Chief Tolliver,” she said, as if Lena wasn’t right in front of her. She had a ratty old black and red scarf around her shoulders, looking more like a little old lady now than the first time they had seen her. The woman was probably only ten years older than Lena. She was either putting on an act or was truly one of the most pathetic people walking the face of the earth.

  “Why don’t you come back to my office,” Jeffrey offered, putting his hand at Mary’s elbow, guiding her through the open doorway before she could change her mind. He said, “You remember Detective Adams?”

  “Lena,” Lena supplied, ever helpful. “Can I get you some coffee or something?”

  “I don’t drink caffeine,” the woman replied, her voice still strained, as if she had been screaming and had made herself hoarse. Lena could see she had a balled tissue up her sleeve and assumed she’d been crying.

  Jeffrey sat Mary at one of the desks outside his office, probably wanting to keep her off guard. He waited for her to sit, then took the chair beside her. Lena hung back behind them, thinking Mary would be more comfortable talking to Jeffrey.

  He asked, “What can I help you with, Mary?”

  She took her time, her breathing audible in the small room as they waited for her to speak. “You said my niece was in a box, Chief Tolliver.”

  “Yes.”

  “That Cole had buried her in a box.”

  “That’s right,” he confirmed. “Cole admitted it to me before he died.”

  “And you found her there? You found Abby yourself?”

  “My wife and I were in the woods. We found the metal pipe in the ground. We dug her out ourselves.”

  Mary took the tissue from her sleeve and wiped her nose. “Several years ago,” she began; then: “I guess I should back up.”

  “Take your time.”

  She seemed to do exactly that, and Lena pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to shake it out of her.

  “I have two sons,” Mary said. “William and Peter. They live out west.”

  “I remember you telling us that,” Jeffrey said, though Lena
didn’t.

  “They chose to leave the church.” She blew her nose in the tissue. “It was very hard for me to lose my children. Not that we turned our backs on them. Everyone makes their own decisions. We don’t exclude people because they . . .” She let her voice trail off. “My sons turned their backs on us. On me.”

  Jeffrey waited, the only sign of his impatience his hand gripping the arm of the chair.

  “Cole was very hard on them,” she said. “He disciplined them.”

  “Did he abuse them?”

  “He punished them when they were bad,” was all she would admit. “My husband had passed away a year before. I was grateful for Cole’s help. I thought they needed a strong man in their lives.” She sniffed, wiping her nose. “These were different times.”

  “I understand,” Jeffrey told her.

  “Cole has— had— very firm ideas about right and wrong. I trusted him. My father trusted him. He was first and foremost a man of God.”

  “Did anything happen to change that?”

  She seemed overcome by sadness. “No. I believed everything he said. At the cost of my own children, I believed in him. I turned my back on my daughter.”

  Lena felt her eyebrows shoot up.

  “You have a daughter?”

  She nodded. “Genie.”

  Jeffrey sat back in the chair, though his body remained tense.

  “She told me,” Mary continued. “Genie told me what he had done to her.” She paused. “The box in the woods.”

  “He buried her there?”

  “They were camping,” Mary explained. “He took the children camping all the time.”

  Lena knew Jeffrey was thinking about Rebecca, how she had run away to the woods before. He asked, “What did your daughter say happened?”

  “She said Cole tricked her, that he told her he was going to take her for a walk in the woods.” She stopped, then willed herself to go on. “He left her there for five days.”

  “What did you do when she told you about this?”

  “I asked Cole about it.” She shook her head at her own stupidity. “He told me that he couldn’t stay on the farm if I believed Genie over him. He felt that strongly about it.”

  “But he didn’t deny it?”

  “No,” she told Jeffrey. “I never realized it until last night. He never denied it. He told me that I should pray about it, let the Lord tell me whom to believe— Genie or him. I trusted in him. He has such a strict sense of right and wrong. I took him for a God-fearing man.”

  “Did anyone else in the family know about this?”

  She shook her head again. “I was ashamed. She lied.” Mary corrected, “She lied about some things. I see that now, but at the time, it was harder to see. Genie was a very rebellious young girl. She used drugs. She ran around with boys. She turned away from the church. She turned away from the family.”

  “What did you tell them about Genie’s disappearance?”

  “I sought my brother’s counsel. He told me to tell them she had run away with a boy. It was a believable story. I thought it saved us all the embarrassment of the truth, and neither of us wanted to upset Cole.” She dabbed the tissue at the corner of her eye. “He was so valuable to us then. My brothers were both away at school. None of us girls were capable of taking care of the farm. Cole ran everything along with my father. He was critical to the operation.”

  The fire door banged open and Frank came in, stopping in his tracks when he saw Jeffrey and Mary Ward sitting at the desk. He walked over and put his hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder, handing him a folder. Jeffrey opened the file, obviously knowing Frank would not have interrupted unless it was important. Lena could tell that he was looking at several faxed pages. The station was run on a tight budget and the machine was about ten years old, using thermal rolls instead of plain paper. Jeffrey smoothed out the pages as he scanned them. When he looked up, Lena couldn’t tell if he had read good news or bad.

  “Mary,” Jeffrey said. “I’ve been calling you Ms. Ward this whole time. Is your married name Morgan?”

  Her surprise registered on her face. “Yes,” she said. “Why?”

  “And your daughter is named Teresa Eugenia Morgan?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeffrey gave her a minute to collect herself. “Mary,” he began. “Did Abby ever meet your daughter?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Genie was ten when Abby was born. She treated her like her own little baby. Abby was devastated when Genie left. They were both devastated.”

  “Could Abby have visited your daughter that day she went to Savannah?”

  “Savannah?”

  He took out one of the faxed pages. “We have Genie’s address listed as 241 Sandon Square, Savannah.”

  “Well, no,” she said, a bit troubled. “My daughter lives here in town, Chief Tolliver. Her married name is Stanley.”

  Lena drove to the Stanley place while Jeffrey talked on his cell phone to Frank. He kept his spiral notepad balanced on his knee as he wrote down whatever Frank was telling him, giving the occasional grunt to confirm he’d heard what was being said.

  Lena glanced in her rearview mirror to make sure Brad Stephens was behind them. He was following in his cruiser, and for once, Lena was glad to have the junior patrolman around. Brad was goofy, but he had been working out lately and had the muscle to show for it. Jeffrey had told them about the loaded revolver Dale Stanley kept on top of one of the cabinets in the garage. She wasn’t looking forward to confronting Terri’s husband, but part of her was hoping he tried something so that Jeffrey and Brad had an excuse to show him what it felt like for someone larger and stronger than you to bring down a world of pain on your ass.

  Jeffrey told Frank, “No, don’t put her in a cell. Give her some milk and cookies if you have to. Just keep her away from the phone and her brothers.” Lena knew he was talking about Mary Morgan. The woman had been startled when Jeffrey had told her she wasn’t to leave the police station but, like most law-abiding citizens, she was so scared of going to jail that she had just sat there, nodding, agreeing with everything he said.

  “Good work, Frank.” Jeffrey told him, “Let me know what else you come up with,” and rang off. He started scribbling on his pad again, not speaking.

  Lena didn’t have the patience to wait for him to finish with his notes. “What did he say?”

  “They’ve found six policies so far,” he told her, still writing. “Lev and Terri are listed as beneficiaries for both Abby and Chip. Mary Morgan is on two, Esther Bennett is on two others.”

  “What’d Mary say about that?”

  “She said she had no idea what Frank was talking about. Paul handles all the accounts for the family.”

  “Did Frank believe her?”

  “He’s not sure,” Jeffrey said. “Hell, I’m not sure and I talked to her for half an hour.”

  “I wouldn’t guess they’re living high on the hog.”

  “Sara says they make their own clothes.”

  “Paul doesn’t,” she pointed out. “How much were the policies worth?”

  “Around fifty thousand each. They were greedy, but they weren’t stupid.”

  Lena knew that anything exorbitant would have raised suspicion with the insurance agencies. As it was, the family had managed to collect a half-million dollars over the last two years, all of it tax free.

  “What about the house?” Lena asked. The policies had listed each beneficiary as living at the same address in Savannah. A quick call to the Chatham County courthouse had revealed that the house on Sandon Square was purchased by a Stephanie Linder five years ago. Either there was another Ward sibling Jeffrey didn’t know about or someone was playing a nasty joke on the family.

  Lena asked, “You think Dale is involved in this, too?”

  “Frank ran a credit check,” he said. “Dale and Terri are both in debt up to their eyeballs— credit cards, mortgage, two car payments. They’ve got three medical collections against them. Sara says the kid’s
been in the hospital a couple of times. They’re hurting for money.”

  “You think Terri killed her?” Lena asked. Frank was right when he said poisoning was generally a woman’s crime.

  “Why would she do it?”

  “She knew what Cole did. She could’ve been following him.”

  “But why kill Abby?”

  “Maybe she didn’t,” Lena tried. “Maybe Cole killed Abby and Terri decided to give him some of his own medicine.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think Cole killed Abby. He was genuinely sad that she was dead.”

  Lena let it go, but in her mind, she thought he was giving a large benefit of the doubt to one of the sickest fucks she’d ever run into.

  Jeffrey opened his cell phone and dialed a number. Someone obviously answered on the other end, and he said, “Hey, Molly. Can you give a message to Sara for me?” He paused a beat. “Tell her we’re heading out to the Stanley place right now. Thanks.” He hung up, telling Lena, “Terri had an appointment with Sara around lunchtime.”

  It was half past ten. Lena thought about the gun in Dale’s garage. “Why didn’t we just pick her up then?”

  “Because Sara’s office is out of bounds.”

  Lena thought this was a pretty lame excuse, but she knew better than to push him on it. Jeffrey was the best cop she had ever known, but he was like a whipped puppy as far as Sara Linton was concerned. The fact that she jerked him around so much would have been embarrassing to any other man, but he seemed to take pride in it.

  Jeffrey must have sensed her thoughts— at least some of them— because he said, “I don’t know what Terri’s capable of. I sure as hell don’t want her going ballistic in an office full of little kids.”

  He pointed to a black mailbox jutting up beside the road. “It’s up here on the right.”

  Lena slowed, turning into the Stanley driveway, Brad right behind her. She saw Dale working in the garage and felt her breath catch. She had met him once, years ago, at another police picnic when his brother, Pat, had just joined the force. Lena had forgotten how large he was. Not just large, but strong.

  Jeffrey got out of the car, but Lena found herself hesitating. She made her hand move to the handle on the door, made herself open it and get out. She heard Brad’s door shut behind her, but didn’t want to take her eyes off Dale for a second. He stood just inside the doorway of the garage, hefting a heavy-looking wrench in his meaty hands. The cabinet with the gun was a few feet away. Like Jeffrey, he had a dark bruise under his eye.