“How?”
“We sent him forth with around $400. He was well read, had an inquisitive nature, and boasted many very unique skills.”
“Like making clothing from hemp?”
Thatcher’s smile never wavered. “I don’t believe our young men engage in that pastime, but if you’re asking about our clothing, I will admit we find hemp to be the most durable of natural fibers.”
“I’m sure you do. Do you have a grower’s license, Mr. Thatcher? I couldn’t find one.”
“We don’t grow our own hemp, Agent Moreno, we barter for it.”
“With what?”
“Our produce is in demand and we weave our own cloth. We are self-sustaining, environmentally sound, and independent.”
“Independent? Meaning above the law?”
“Certainly not.”
Radar’s expression hardened. “Then I want to see permits for every gun on this property, Mr. Thatcher.”
Thatcher’s look never faltered. “Certainly. Won’t you come with me?” He motioned to the house. “I’d be happy to offer you refreshments.”
Radar gave Peyton a firm look, nodding at the women. Peyton gave him a nod in return. “Tank, you’re with me,” he ordered and followed Thatcher and the armed boy toward the stairs. If Thatcher was concerned that Peyton and Bambi didn’t follow, he didn’t show it. He pulled open the screen, motioning Radar inside, then followed him without a backward glance.
As soon as the screen closed, Peyton turned toward the young woman in the apron. She had curly red hair, nearly as wild as Peyton’s own. “Janice?”
The woman shot a frightened look at the house, then turned wide eyes back to Peyton. She gave a jerky nod. Peyton and Bambi approached her slowly. As they did so, a little girl darted out from under the picnic table and threw her arms around the woman’s legs. By her curly red hair and the scar on her upper lip, Peyton knew she had to be Little Gina.
Peyton held out her hand. “I’m Agent Brooks…”
Janice shook her head, motioning her closer. They stepped under the awning and Janice indicated they should sit at the picnic table. As Peyton and Bambi climbed onto the bench, the other women hurried off toward the shacks. Janice and Gina sat down across from them, Gina climbing into Janice’s lap. Peyton noticed that Gina had Thatcher’s longer chin and wide-spaced eyes. She held a rag doll in her hands with a green dress and bright red yarn hair.
“I’m Peyton,” she said, then pointed at Bambi. “And this is my partner Emma.”
Janice nodded. “You’re looking for Finn?”
“Right.”
“Is he in trouble?”
“That’s why we’re trying to find him. Did he tell you he was going to San Francisco?”
Janice nodded, tightening her hold on Gina. “He said he’d write, but he hasn’t. I went to town the other day to ask the librarian if she’d heard from him. He was close with her.”
“Mrs. Elder?”
“Yes.”
“She hasn’t heard from him either.”
“How do you know about Finn?”
Peyton smiled at Gina. The little girl smiled back, brushing her red curls out of her face. “A man named Jeff King brought me some letters Finn wrote to his mother Aster.”
Janice smiled for the first time. “Finn was so fascinated by the world outside Horizon. He liked computers and movies and the internet. He wanted to go to college.”
“To study medicine.”
Janice glanced up at her. “Yes.”
“He wanted you to go with him,” said Bambi. “Why didn’t you?”
Janice’s expression shut off. “All the things that intrigue Finn scare me. It’s a violent world out there. Murders and assaults. Women get raped all the time.”
Peyton and Bambi exchanged a look. Bambi made a face and glanced away. If what Peyton feared was happening on this farm proved true, women didn’t just get raped out in the greater world. She looked back at Little Gina, studying the girl’s scar.
“I like your doll. What’s her name?”
Gina lifted the doll for Peyton to see. “Fiona. Finn says she’s a princess.”
Peyton nodded. “She’s lovely.” She reached over and fingered the green dress. “This is really well done.”
Janice smiled. “I made it.”
“Really? What’s the material? It’s so soft.”
“It’s a special blend. Hemp’s a bit rough, so I combine it with mohair.”
“Mohair? Angora goats?”
“Yes.”
“I came to the Farmer’s market on Saturday and I saw a woman who made ragdolls out of mohair. She showed me a picture of her goats. Is that where you get yours?”
“Yes.”
Peyton braced her chin on one hand and rubbed the fabric between the fingers of her other hand. “What else do you make with this?”
“Sweaters, vests, blankets…”
“Blankets. Really? It’s so incredibly soft. Do you ever sell the blankets at the market?”
“Sometimes.”
“My fiancé has a bad leg. Sometimes he has to sleep in a chair, it aches so badly. I was just thinking a blanket made from such soft material might be really comforting.” She beamed a smile at Bambi. “Don’t you think?”
Bambi gave her a puzzled look, then understanding dawned. “Yeah. Oh, he’d really like this.”
“I might have one I can give you.”
“Really? That would mean the world to me.”
“Just wait here.” Janice started to climb out of the bench. “Come on, Gina.”
“We’ll watch her,” said Peyton. “You won’t be long.”
Janice hesitated, but Gina looked up at her. “I’m okay, Mama.”
Touching her daughter’s bright head, she hesitantly walked toward one of the shacks. Peyton fingered a red strand of the doll’s hair. “So Fiona, huh?”
Gina nodded, hugging the doll to her. “Finn says Fiona has red hair.”
“She does.”
“Like mine, but it’s not curly like mine. It’s like hers.” She pointed at Bambi. “I wish I had hair like her.”
“Why? I like curly hair. I have curly hair like you.” Peyton pulled the clip out of her hair and let it spill to her shoulders. “See.”
Gina smiled and climbed on the bench, so she could reach over and touch one of Peyton’s curls.
“Curls are beautiful,” said Bambi, brushing the curls off Peyton’s shoulders. “Especially red ones.”
Gina slumped back on the bench and pressed her lips to Fiona’s head. “She married an ogre. Fiona did. That’s what Finn says.”
“That’s right. Do you know what an ogre is?” asked Peyton.
Gina nodded. “A monster.”
“Right, but he was a good monster.”
“Not this one.” Gina rubbed her cheek on Fiona’s red hair. “He’s mean to her.”
“How? Does he yell?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes he yells a lot.”
“I see. Does he hit Fiona?”
“Hit her?”
“Yeah. Does he ever use his hands on her?”
“I don’t know, but sometimes she cries.”
“Why does she cry, Gina?”
“Because she’s sad.”
“What makes her sad?”
“People leave. Her grandma left and other people.”
“Like Finn?”
“Yeah, like Finn.”
Bambi shifted on the bench, looking around. Peyton stayed focused on Gina. “Does the ogre do anything else?”
“I don’t know.”
Bambi turned back to the little girl. “Did Finn tell you what the ogre’s name was?”
“Huh?”
Peyton picked up Bambi’s thread. “The ogre, Gina? What’s his name?”
“Name?”
“Yeah, what did Finn say his name was?”
“Finn didn’t say.”
Peyton looked away. Everything appeared all right on this farm. The are
a was clean, no signs of neglect. Gina wasn’t thin, didn’t show outward bruises. And yet, everything felt off. “Okay.”
“I know what it is though,” offered Gina.
“You know what the ogre’s name is?”
“Yep.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why can’t you tell me, Gina?”
The little girl looked over her shoulder. Her mother was hurrying across the circle with a blanket in her hands. Turning back around, Gina pressed her lips to the doll’s head again and said nothing more. Peyton gathered her hair and wound it back into a bun, shoving the clip in to hold it up.
“How’s this?” asked Janice, extending the blanket to Peyton.
“It’s beautiful.” The blanket’s intricate weave was a mixture of brown and cream fibers, and velvet-soft to the touch. “How much do I owe you?”
Janice shrugged. “Twenty?”
“Twenty? That’s not enough, Janice.”
Bambi reached into her pocket and pulled out a wallet, removing a hundred dollar bill and passing it over. “Here. This is more like it.”
Janice’s eyes widened, but she didn’t take the bill. “That’s too much.”
Bambi shook it. “Take it, please. It’ll buy you more yarn. Clothes for Gina.”
Janice glanced around, then took the bill and shoved it into the bodice of her dress. “Why are you looking for Finn?” Her jaw firmed, but she wound her hands in her apron. “The FBI wouldn’t come out for nothing.”
Peyton pushed herself to her feet and faced her. “We found a child at Natural Bridges, floating in the surf.” She glanced at Gina. “She was different, Janice.”
“Different? How?”
“She had a birth defect that made her look like a mermaid.”
“Ariel,” said Gina. “She had red hair too. Finn told me about her.”
Peyton smiled at Gina. “See, a lot of princesses have red hair.”
Janice moved closer to her daughter. “What does that have to do with Finn?”
“We aren’t sure. When we went to Natural Bridges to view the body, I saw a Horizon van there in the parking lot.”
“And?”
“It seemed coincidental, especially after I got Finn’s letters. He mentions…” Peyton glanced at the little girl with the scarred lip. “He mentions a number of birth defects. He said you lost a child after Gina, he talked about a boy named Ezekiel who also had a cleft palate, and the boy at the gate today…”
“Things like that happen. No one knows why.”
“Actually, we do know why. It’s most often genetic. Thatcher clearly had surgery to repair the defect himself.”
“So?”
Peyton couldn’t be sure how much Gina knew about her parents, but she couldn’t think of any other way to pursue this. “Thatcher’s Gina’s father, isn’t he?”
“That has nothing to do with the baby you found.”
“Is Thatcher Ezekiel’s father, and the boy at the gate?”
“I’ve seen other children with varying degrees of cleft lip since we’ve been here, Janice,” offered Bambi.
Janice pulled Gina to her, fidgeting with the collar of her dress. “This is why we choose to live apart from society. All of your television and movies and internet cloud your minds, make you think evil things.”
“If he’s raping girls on this property, Janice, we can stop him.”
“We live a simple life. It suits us. Do you see any sign of abuse? Any sign of neglect? We’re happy here.”
“Why does he send the young men away at 21, Janice? So he doesn’t have competition? So he can keep his own harem?”
“That’s a vile thing to say. He sends them away to make their fortune in the world.”
“Like Finn? Was Finn capable of making his fortune in the world, Janice? You thought about going with him. Finn thought you would. What changed your mind? What made you decide to stay? Did Thatcher threaten you?”
Janice stroked Gina’s hair. “I chose to stay. I didn’t want to go.” She glared at Peyton and Bambi. “I knew I’d never survive out there. I’m happy here. Isn’t that enough?”
“Happy! You watched your mother die in agony! You did nothing to get her help! You let him throw your brother out into a world he didn’t understand!” shouted Bambi.
Janice took a step back, pulling Gina with her.
“Emma!”
Bambi fought to gain composure. Glancing around, Peyton saw that the women had come out of the shacks and were looking at them. The young children had stopped working the garden and two more teenage boys materialized from the trees, carrying their guns.
“I’m sorry.”
Peyton placed a hand on her arm, while she reached for a business card. She held it out to Janice. “We want to help you, Janice. There are things we can do, help we can get for you if you want it. Just call me. I will do everything I can for you and anyone else who needs us.”
Janice took the card. Her fingers trembled, but she stuffed it in her bodice with the money. Peyton gave Gina a reassuring smile and gathered the blanket off the picnic table. At that moment, the screen door opened and Thatcher led Radar and Tank into the yard.
Peyton motioned Bambi before her as they circled around Janice and met the men in the center of the clearing. Thatcher’s smile was still in place, but his eyes lighted briefly on the blanket in Peyton’s hands.
“I’m glad everything’s in order, Agent Moreno,” he said. “As you can see, we do very well for ourselves.”
Radar inclined his head, but didn’t respond.
“I hope we provided you with the information you sought and I wish you all the best in trying to discover the identity of that poor unfortunate babe. Terrible shame.” He graced Peyton and Bambi with his smile. “I’ll just have Edmund here escort you to the gate.”
The boy with the rifle moved around them and started toward the dirt track. Tank and Bambi followed him, but Radar hung back. Peyton stayed with him. Thatcher raised his brows in question, but Radar had nothing to say. Turning abruptly, he stalked toward the trail, following the others.
“Did he have permits for the guns?” asked Peyton in an undertone.
“Yep.”
“How? He’s a convicted felon.”
“The permits weren’t in his name.”
“The boys?”
“Yep.”
“Did you ask him if he fathered half the children on that farm?”
“Yeah, right after I asked him if he was a rapist.”
“Really?”
“In so many words.”
“What’d he say?”
“He just smiled and said those thoughts were the purview of our tainted, sick society and the very reason he chooses to live apart from it.”
“I hate that smile. What did you say after that?”
“I reminded him that Franklin Thatcher had no problem sleeping with underaged women.”
“And he said?”
“Franklin Thatcher is dead.” They said it together.
“What did you get?”
Peyton held up the blanket. “A little something for Igor.”
“Nice.” He reached out and fingered it. “Was that Janice?”
“Yep.”
“How’d you get her to part with it?”
“Told a sad story, then Bambi gave her a hundred dollars. Thatcher didn’t seem pleased to see me with it.”
“I noted that.” Radar fell silent. The wooden gate had just come into view with their Suburban waiting behind it. “Something’s not right. I don’t believe they barter for hemp. I think they grow it right on site.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Why the guns? This is like a military compound. I get having a gun for protection, but why guards?”
“You have a point. Bambi went after Janice a bit, got heated.”
“Yeah?”
“Suddenly two boys appear out of the trees, carrying rifles.”
>
Radar stopped walking and looked up the road. “We aren’t going to get a warrant with this circumstantial shit. We need something more.”
“Maybe the blanket?”
“That just links them to the baby, but I’m telling you there’s something bigger going on here.”
Peyton glanced toward the Suburban. The others had stopped and the three teenagers seemed to be discussing something. “What if we find pot fields?”
“We’ll get our fool selves shot wandering around in these trees.” Radar shook his head. “We can’t sneak in. That gets us nothing but a bullet.”
“What about a drone?”
Radar’s gaze snapped to her face. “A drone? Fly one over?”
“Yep, with a camera. Come on. The FBI has got to have some neat gadgets like that, right?”
Radar gave her a slow smile. “Now you’re thinking, Sparky,” he said and started walking rapidly toward the Suburban.
Peyton followed him, pleased despite herself with that glimmer of praise. As she climbed into the passenger’s seat, she folded the blanket on her lap and clicked on her seatbelt. Her eyes caught motion at the side of the road just as Radar threw the Suburban in reverse and started backing up.
Peyton leaned forward, squinting into the shadows beneath the trees. Just for a moment, she thought she saw a young girl’s face looking back at them, watching them from behind the massive trunks, then she was gone.
* * *
Peyton hated coming home to an empty house. Pickles met her at the door and danced around her feet, but even he acted like he was feeling lonely. She emptied her pockets onto the sofa table and settled the blanket beside them. She’d take it to Igor at the lab tomorrow. By the time they got back to the City, he’d already left for the night. She wondered if he had a wife and little Igors to go home to.
She picked up Pickles and cuddled him as she moved to her bedroom and changed into Marco’s jersey and a pair of shorts. She knew she should probably stop wearing the jersey, but every time she told herself that was it, she found herself reaching for it again.
She fed Pickles, walked him his one block, then carried him for another block because she didn’t want to go home, but failing light forced her to return, shutting and locking the door behind her. Then she cooked a TV dinner, ate only half of it, grabbed a beer and plunked herself down before the television. Pickles curled up beside her with a doggy sigh of discontent.
Mermaids in the Pacific (Peyton Brooks, FBI Book 2) Page 30