Faithless Page 37

  “Eight years,” she answered. Eight years of having the shit beaten out of her. Eight years of making excuses, covering his tracks, convincing herself that this time was different, this time he would change. Eight years of knowing deep in her gut that she was lying to herself but not being able to do anything about it.

  Lena would be dead in eight years if she had to endure that.

  Terri said, “When Dale met me, I was clean, but I was still messed up. Didn’t think much of myself.” Lena could hear the regret in her voice. She wasn’t wallowing in self-pity. She was looking back on her life and seeing how the hole she had dug for herself wasn’t much different from the one Cole Connolly had put her in.

  Terri told them, “Before that, I was into speed, shooting up. I did some really bad things. I think Tim’s the one who’s paid for it most.” She added, “His asthma is really bad. Who knows how long those drugs stay in your system? Who knows what it does to your insides?”

  He asked, “When did you clean up?”

  “When I was twenty-one,” she answered. “I just stopped. I knew I wouldn’t see twenty-five if I didn’t.”

  “Have you had any contact with your family since then?”

  She started picking at her cuticle again. “I asked my uncle for some money a while back,” she admitted. “I needed it for . . .” Her throat moved again as she swallowed. Lena knew what she needed the money for. Terri didn’t have a job. Dale probably kept every dime that came into the house. She had to pay the clinic somehow, and borrowing money from her uncle had been the only way.

  Terri told Jeffrey, “Dr. Linton’s been real nice, but we had to pay her something for all she’s been doing. Tim’s medication isn’t covered by his insurance.” Suddenly, she looked up, fear lighting her eyes. “Don’t tell Dale,” she pleaded, talking to Lena. “Please don’t tell him I asked for money. He’s proud. He doesn’t like me begging.”

  Lena knew he would want to know where the money went. She asked, “Did you ever see Abby?”

  Her lips quivered as she tried not to cry. “Yes,” she answered. “Sometimes, she used to come by during the day to check on me and the kids. She’d bring us food, candy for the kids.”

  “You knew she was pregnant?”

  Terri nodded, and Lena wondered if Jeffrey felt the sadness coming off her. She was probably thinking about the child she had lost, the one in Atlanta. Lena felt herself thinking the same thing. For some reason, the image of the baby upstairs came to her mind, his little feet curling in the air, the way Terri tucked the blanket under his soft chin. Lena had to look down so that Jeffrey wouldn’t see the tears stinging her eyes.

  She could feel Terri looking at her. The mother had an abused woman’s sense of other people, an instinctive recognition of changing emotions that came from years of trying not to say or do the wrong thing.

  Jeffrey was oblivious to all of this as he asked, “What did you say to Abby when she told you about the baby?”

  “I should have known what was going to happen,” she said. “I should have warned her.”

  “Warned her about what?”

  “About Cole, about what he did to me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her?”

  “My own mother wouldn’t believe me,” she said bluntly. “I don’t know . . . Over the years, I thought maybe I was making it up. I did so many drugs then, lots of bad stuff. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was easier to just think that I made it up.”

  Lena knew what she was talking about. You lied to yourself in degrees just so you could get through the day.

  Jeffrey asked, “Did Abby tell you she was seeing somebody?”

  Terri nodded, saying, “Chip,” with some regret. “I told her not to get mixed up with him. You’ve got to understand, girls don’t know much growing up on the Holy Grown farm. They keep us secluded, like they’re protecting us, but what it really does is make it easier for all the men.” She gave another humorless laugh. “I never even knew what sex was until I was having it.”

  “When did Abby tell you she was leaving?”

  “She came by on her way to Savannah about a week before she died,” Terri said. “She told me she was going to leave with Chip when Aunt Esther and Uncle Eph went into Atlanta in a couple of days.”

  “Did she seem upset?”

  She considered the question. “She seemed preoccupied. That’s not like Abby. There was a lot on her mind, though. She was . . . she was distracted.”

  “Distracted how?”

  Terri looked down, obviously trying to conceal her reaction. “Just with stuff.”

  Jeffrey said, “Terri, we need to know what stuff.”

  She spoke. “We were here in the kitchen,” she began. She indicated Lena’s chair. “She was sitting right there. She had Paul’s briefcase in her lap, holding it like she couldn’t let go. I remember thinking I could sell that thing and feed my kids for a month.”

  “It’s a nice briefcase?” Jeffrey asked, and Lena knew he was thinking exactly the same thing she was. Abby had looked in the briefcase and found something Paul didn’t want her to see.

  She said, “He probably paid a thousand dollars for it. He spends money like it’s water. I just don’t understand.”

  Jeffrey asked, “What did Abby say?”

  “That she had to go see Paul, then when she came back, she was leaving with Chip.” She sniffed. “She wanted me to tell her mama and daddy that she loved them with all her heart.” She started to cry again. “I need to tell them that. I owe Esther that at least.”

  “Do you think she told Paul she was pregnant?”

  Terri shook her head. “I don’t know. She could’ve gone to Savannah to get some help.”

  Lena asked, “Help getting rid of the baby?”

  “God, no,” she said, shocked. “Abby would never kill her baby.”

  Lena felt her mouth working, but her voice was caught somewhere in her throat.

  Jeffrey asked, “What do you think she wanted from Paul?”

  “Maybe she asked him for some money?” Terri guessed. “I told her she’d need some money if she was going off with Chip. She doesn’t understand how the real world works. She gets hungry and there’s food on the table. She’s cold and there’s the thermostat. She’s never had to fend for herself. I warned her she’d need money of her own, and to hide it from Chip, to keep something back for herself, in case he left her somewhere. I didn’t want her to make the same mistakes I had.” She wiped her nose. “She was such a sweet, sweet girl.”

  A sweet girl who was trying to bribe her uncle into paying her off with blood money, Lena thought. She asked, “You think Paul gave her the money?”

  “I don’t know,” Terri admitted. “That was the last time I saw her. She was supposed to leave with Chip after that. I really thought she had until I heard . . . until you found her on Sunday.”

  “Where were you last Saturday night?”

  Terri used the back of her hand to wipe her nose. “Here,” she told them. “With Dale and the kids.”

  “Can anyone else verify that?”

  She bit her bottom lip, thinking. “Well, Paul dropped by,” she told them. “Just for a minute.”

  “Saturday night?” Jeffrey verified, glancing at Lena. Paul had insisted several times that he was in Savannah the night his niece died. His chatty secretary had even backed him up. He said he had driven to the farm on Sunday evening to help look for Abby.

  Jeffrey asked, “Why was Paul here?”

  “He brought Dale that thing for one of his cars.”

  Jeffrey asked, “What thing?”

  “That Porsche thing,” she answered. “Paul loves flashy cars— hell, he loves flashy anything. He tries to hide it from Papa and them, but he likes to have his toys.”

  “What kind of toys?”

  “He brings in old beaters he finds at auctions and Dale fixes them up for a discount. At least Dale says he’s giving a discount. I don’t know what he charges, but it’s gotta be cheape
r to do it here than it is in Savannah.”

  “How often does Paul bring in cars?”

  “Two, three times that I can think of.” Terri shrugged. “You’d have to ask Dale. I’m in the back mostly, working on the upholstery.”

  “Dale didn’t mention Paul came by when I saw him the other night.”

  “I doubt he would,” Terri said. “Paul pays him in cash. He don’t report it on the taxes.” She tried to defend his actions. “We’ve got collections after us. The hospital’s already garnishing Dale’s wages from when Tim went in last year. The bank reports back everything that goes in and out. We’d lose the house if we didn’t have that extra cash.”

  “I don’t work for the IRS,” Jeffrey told her. “All I care about is Saturday night. You’re sure Paul came by Saturday?”

  She nodded. “You can ask Dale,” she said. “They stayed in the garage for about ten minutes, then he was gone. I just saw him through the front window. Paul doesn’t really talk to me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’m a fallen woman,” she said, absent any sarcasm.

  “Terri,” Jeffrey began, “was Paul ever in the garage alone?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  “How many times?” he pushed.

  “I don’t know. A lot.”

  Jeffrey wasn’t so conciliatory anymore. He pressed her harder. “How about in the last three months or so? Was he here then?”

  “I guess,” she repeated, agitated. “Why does it matter if Paul was in the garage?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out if he had time to take something that was out there.”

  She snorted a laugh at the suggestion. “Dale would’ve wrung his neck.”

  “What about the insurance policies?” he asked.

  “What policies?”

  Jeffrey took out a folded sheet of fax paper and put it on the table in front of her.

  Terri’s brow furrowed as she read the document. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a fifty-thousand-dollar life insurance policy with you as the beneficiary.”

  “Where did you find this?”

  “You don’t get to ask the questions,” Jeffrey told her, dropping his understanding tone. “Tell us what’s going on, Terri.”

  “I thought—” she began, then stopped, shaking her head.

  Lena asked, “You thought what?”

  Terri shook her head, picking at the cuticle on her thumb.

  “Terri?” Lena prodded, not wanting Jeffrey to be too hard on her. She obviously had something to say; now was not the time to be impatient.

  Jeffrey adjusted his tone. “Terri, we need your help here. We know Cole put her in that box, just like he did with you, only Abby never got out. We need you to help us find out who killed her.”

  “I don’t . . .” Terri let her voice trail off.

  Jeffrey said, “Terri, Rebecca is still missing.”

  She said something under her breath that sounded like a word or two of encouragement. Without warning, she stood, saying, “I’ll be back.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Jeffrey caught her by the arm as she started to leave the kitchen but Terri flinched and he let go.

  “Sorry,” she apologized, rubbing her arm where Dale had bruised her. Lena could see tears from the pain well up in the other woman’s eyes. Still, Terri repeated, “I’ll be right back.”

  Jeffrey didn’t touch her again, but he said, “We’ll go with you,” in a tone that said it wasn’t just a friendly suggestion.

  Terri hesitated, then gave him a curt nod. She looked down the hallway as if to make sure no one was there. Lena knew she was looking for Dale. Even though he was handcuffed in the squad car, she was still terrified he could get to her.

  She opened the back door, giving another furtive glance, this time to make sure Lena and Jeffrey were following. She told Jeffrey, “Leave it open a crack in case Tim needs me,” meaning the door. He caught the screen so it wouldn’t slam, playing along with her paranoia.

  Together, the three of them walked into the backyard. The dogs were all mutts, probably rescued from the pound. They whined quietly, jumping up at Terri, trying to get her attention. She absently stroked their heads as she passed, edging around the garage. She stopped at the corner and Lena could see an outbuilding behind it. If Dale was looking this way, he would be able to see them go to the building.

  Jeffrey realized this about the same time Lena did. He was offering, “I can—” when Terri took a deep breath and walked out into the open yard.

  Lena followed her, not looking at the squad car, feeling the heat of Dale’s stare anyway.

  “He’s not looking,” Jeffrey said, but both Lena and Terri were too frightened to look.

  Terri took a key out of her pocket and slid it into the locked shed door. She turned on the lights as she went into the cramped room. A sewing machine was in the center, bolts of dark leather stacked against the walls, harsh light overhead. This must be where Terri sewed upholstery for the cars Dale rebuilt. The room was dank, musty. It was little more than a sweatshop and must have felt like hell itself in the dead of winter.

  Terri turned around, finally looking out the window. Lena followed her gaze and saw the dark silhouette of Dale Stanley sitting in the back of the squad car. Terri said, “He’s gonna kill me when he finds out about this.” She told Lena, “What’s one more thing, huh?”

  Lena said, “We can protect you, Terri. We can take him to jail right now and he’ll never see the light of day again.”

  “He’ll get out,” she said.

  “No,” Lena told her, because she knew there were ways to make sure prisoners didn’t get out. If you put them in the right cell with the right person, you could fuck up their lives forever. She said, “We can make sure,” and from the look Terri gave her, Lena knew the other woman understood.

  Jeffrey had been listening to all of this as he walked around the small room. Suddenly, he pulled a couple of bolts of material away from the wall. There was a noise from behind them, almost like a scurrying mouse. He pulled away another bolt, holding out his hand to the girl crouched against the wall.

  He had found Rebecca Bennett.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jeffrey watched Lena with Rebecca Bennett, thinking that even after all these years, if someone asked him to explain what made Lena tick, he would be at a loss for words. Five minutes ago, she had sat in this same kitchen as he talked with Terri Stanley, barely speaking, acting as if she was a scared child. Yet, with the Bennett girl, she was in charge, being the cop she could be instead of the abused woman she was.

  “Tell me what happened, Rebecca,” she said, her voice strong even as she took the girl’s hands in hers, balancing authority with empathy. Lena had done this a million times before, but still the transformation was hard to believe.

  Rebecca hesitated, still a frightened child. She was obviously exhausted, the time spent hiding from her uncle wearing away at her like the constant flow of water over a river rock. Her shoulders were turned in, her head bowed as if all she wanted in the world was to disappear.

  “After you guys left,” Rebecca began, “I went to my room.”

  “This was Monday?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Mama told me to lie down.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got cold, and I pulled back my sheets and found some papers there.”

  “What papers did you find?” Lena asked.

  Rebecca looked at Terri, and the older woman gave a small nod, indicating it was okay. Rebecca paused, her eyes on her cousin. Then she tucked her hand into the front pocket of her dress and pulled out a neatly folded stack of papers. Lena glanced at them, then handed them to Jeffrey. He saw that they were originals of the insurance policies Frank had already pulled.

  Lena sat back in her chair, studying the girl. “Why didn’t you find them Sunday?”

  Rebecca glanced at Terri again. “I stayed at my aunt Rachel’s Sunday night. Mama didn’t want me
out looking for Abby.”

  Jeffrey remembered Esther had said much the same thing at the diner. He looked up from the documents just in time to catch an exchanged glance between the two cousins.

  Lena had obviously seen this, too. She placed her hand palm down on the table. “What else, Becca? What else did you find?”

  Terri started chewing her lip again while Rebecca stared at Lena’s hand on the table.

  “Abby trusted you to do the right thing with what she left,” Lena said, keeping her tone even. “Don’t betray that trust.”

  Rebecca kept staring at Lena’s hand so long Jeffrey wondered if the girl was in a trance. Finally, she looked up at Terri and nodded. Without speaking, Terri walked over to the refrigerator and pulled the magnets holding some of the kids’ drawings. There were several layers before she got to the metal surface.

  She said, “Dale never looks here,” sliding out a folded sheet of ledger paper from behind a child’s stick rendering of the crucifixion. Instead of handing it to Jeffrey or Lena, she gave the page to Rebecca. Slowly, the girl unfolded the paper, then slid it across the table to Lena.

  “You found this in your bed, too?” Lena asked, reading the page. Jeffrey leaned over her shoulder, seeing a list of names, recognizing some of them as workers on the farm. The columns were broken out into dollar amounts and dates, some already past, some in the future. Jeffrey mentally compared the dates to the policies. With a jolt, he realized that this was some kind of income projection, a tally of who had what policy and when they could be expected to cash out.

  “Abby left it for me,” Rebecca said. “She wanted me to have it for some reason.”

  “Why didn’t you show it to anybody?” Lena asked. “Why did you run away?”

  Terri answered for her cousin, speaking quietly as if she was afraid she would get into trouble for doing so. “Paul,” she said. “That’s his handwriting.”

  Rebecca had tears in her eyes. She nodded to Lena’s silent question, and Jeffrey felt the tension ratchet up at the revelation, the exact opposite of what he had been expecting when they finally told the truth. The girls were obviously terrified of what they held in their hands, yet giving it to the police did not bring them any relief.