by M. Mabie
I had the same question, so when I didn’t answer and looked to Dori, Cassie followed suit.
“He’s being questioned about human trafficking.”
Cassie’s mouth fell open, and then she pulled out her phone. “In Browning?” she asked.
“They’re in Browning now, but the FBI raided a place called New Mecula near Nelson where they’re doing the work.”
Cassie’s fingers punched at her phone. Honestly, I was dying to look a few things up myself. I didn’t understand what a lot of it meant.
“Here. I found something.” Cassie was fast. It always took me a while to search for stuff. “Over thirty women were found at a compound during a raid last night near Nelson. Many are suspected to be students who were intercepted before arriving at an Academy in Lancaster, a city with strong fundamentalist ideals. Could be cult related. Authorities say they will explain more after further investigation.”
Cassie dropped her phone on the bar. Her face was pale.
My stomach knotted again. Andrew Yakle was right about my brother.
Dori checked her phone next and then said, “Ashley is bringing donuts and a gorgeous little baby to distract us. Myra, honey, it’s all going to be okay. I have faith.”
I was glad someone did, because mine felt thin.
30
Abe
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve already answered these questions.”
After being driven to Browning, cuffed in a backseat, I’d been in the same fluorescent-lit room for hours. They gave me water and offered me cheese crackers, but by the time they were going over everything again, I was just tired.
Agents Burrows and Ravndahl were nice enough—I guess—but having no food and no sleep was beginning to chip away at my patience.
Burrows, the gruffer of the two men, tapped his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Humor us, Abraham, because your story and Mr. Fox’s story aren’t lining up.”
“It’s Abe, and I don’t care about his story.” I leaned forward and put my palms flat down on the table between myself and them. “I don’t have a story. I have the truth. So it doesn’t matter how many times you ask, it’s not changing.”
Burrows pressed, “Okay, specifically, how are you connected to New Mecula?”
Hand to God, I wanted to flip the table. They’d already told me they knew I didn’t have connection to that place. Why did they insist on asking me questions they already had answers to?
I just wanted to get out of there. Wanted to leave and get as far away from the mess as possible. As soon as they let me go, I was getting the hell back to my girl. Period. But that wasn’t likely to happen until Burrows and Ravndahl were satisfied.
Willing my temper to calm, I inhaled and ran a hand over my face and beard.
“My only connection to New Mecula is that a landowner in Nelson paid my boss at the Grier Mill to log and mill his land, and I was delivering lumber there.”
Ravndahl coolly enquired, “So you’re not close with your brother-in-law?”
“I’ve told you. I’ve only spoken to the man three times.”
“But your father is close with him?” Burrows asked.
“I doubt my father is close with anyone, but honestly I’m not the man to ask about that. I left Lancaster when I was sixteen, and we barely talk now. You’ll have to ask him.”
The partners shared a conversational look at one another which didn’t surprise me because they’d done it many times throughout the night.
“What about your wife? Is she close with her brother? Close with your father?”
“No,” I deadpanned. “Her brother didn’t even call her when their father died. I wouldn’t say that’s close. Would you? My father was her Pastor for many years, and after she left Lancaster, she realized how poorly he led the church.”
“If you weren’t around how would you know he led it poorly?”
“Because it’s a damn cult. Or the closest I’ve ever known to one.” My temper was edging, but I still had the reigns. “I believe in religious freedom. What I don’t support is any group of people who take advantage of others—of innocent people—to benefit themselves. That’s what Lancaster is. So maybe what they’re doing there is illegal, maybe not. I’m not a lawyer, judge, or jury. Regardless, I don’t want anything to do with it.”
There was a quick knock at the door, and then it cracked open. It was another guy who’d been in and out of the room all night, bringing us water and sitting with me when Burrows and Ravndahl weren’t there
Quietly, he said, “Mr. Grier is here.”
Hearing Ted was there relaxed me. The agents had said multiple times I wasn’t under arrest or being charged with anything, that they just wanted to question me, but they weren’t exactly hospitable.
I certainly didn’t feel like a guest. Then again, I suppose it wasn’t their job to make me comfortable. They wanted answers. The problem was, I didn’t have many.
“I’ll take Mr. Hathaway here for a stroll down to the vending machines. I’m sure he’d like to stretch his legs,” the agent at the door said. “Grier is in the conference room with his son-in-law.”
Ravndahl and Burrows stood causing their chair legs to screech across the polished concrete floor. They didn’t waste time and soon it was just me and the other man.
Despite my sour attitude, I held my hand out to him over the table as I rose to my feet. “You can call me Abe,” I greeted. My back was stiff, and my head was beginning to pound.
“I’m Agent Ford.” Ford was younger than either Burrows or Ravndahl, and I guessed just slightly older than me. “Let’s take a walk.”
It was becoming clear that when authorities want you to do something, they act like they’re inviting you to do it. Can we talk about this? Would you like to share that?
What I hoped they got from all my talking and sharing was, I didn’t have anything to do with what was happening in New Mecula. However, what I wanted to be clear on—and I questioned whether I had been—was that I was willing to help if I could.
So as Ford and I walked a well-lit hallway to the vending machines at the end, I said, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you caught Matthew. If he was holding women—or anyone—against their will, he belongs in jail.”
“It’s a delicate situation,” Ford replied and counted the change in his palm. “It’s hard to know when to pull the right punches. That’s the challenge in this kind of work. Punch too soon, you might miss out on a better opportunity to hit a more sensitive spot. Punch too late and you might miss all-together and be knocked out yourself. Even worse is if more people have the potential to get hurt.”
I pulled a bill from my wallet and slid it into the slot, pressed A6, and watched the meat and cheese sticks fall out of the coils. “When I left Lancaster, there wasn’t a New Mecula. It was just my father and a board, oppressing a town in the name of God.”
“Why do you think they do that?” He popped the tab on his cola.
“Power. You can have a loving family, a good job, money in the bank, a good life without needing to control others. The Legacies in Lancaster want power because the men before them had it. And their full quivers only feed that power. The more people under you, the higher you can get. Hardly any of it has to do with God at all.” I bit off a piece of the cheddar and felt it rattle its way down to my empty stomach. “But when I left, I was just glad to get out of that situation. I had nothing and almost no one, but you just want to survive. You don’t worry about getting revenge. You don’t focus on how to deliver justice. You just want to live your life. Start fresh.”
Ford faced me, cocked his head to the side, and asked, “But now you would help?”
“My wife and I have talked about it a lot. We don’t know how.”
“Well, I can tell you there are others in Lancaster who don’t agree with what’s going on there. What’s been going on. I’ve even personally met with some of them.”
I almost choked. “What?”
He swallowed another long drink, as if what he’d said wasn’t shocking at all. “We’ve had more than a few tips over the years about how things are done in Lancaster. Until now, we’ve never been able to step in but we had to because of New Mecula. Religion and morality aren’t so much what we’re here to challenge. It’s whether laws are being broken and if we can prove it.”
“And now with this whole New Mecula situation?”
“It might change the game. One thing I know for sure that would help, is someone like you. Someone like your wife. The Griers. People who know the other side.”
This was nothing new to me. If it hadn’t been for the Griers, I wouldn’t be where I was. If it wasn’t for my going back to Lancaster after Jacob died, Myra would have a different life. Without someone from the outside, we’d all be different people.
When I didn’t reply, the agent went on. “Why don’t they stand up to your father, the board, or people like Matthew Fox?”
I took another bite, feeling immediately better. “There are strict consequences for the people in Lancaster. No one has ever stood up in front of the congregation and just told them the truth.” It was almost impossible to imagine. “The church has its fingers in everything. When someone stands up—even in private—there are four others to push them back down.”
“What if there was support? What if I told you there are dozens of people and families who are—this very second—waiting for someone to come along and show them the way? Someone to prove they can break away. Someone to show them their choices. You know better than anyone what it looks and feels like on the other side. Who better than the Pastor’s son to stand up?”
I ate the last bit of my snack, put more money in, and hit A6 again for another.
“We have counselors and staff who are trained for this very thing, but it’s a choice they’ll all have to make on their own to take the help. That’s the hardest part about working cases like this. You can’t free people who don’t believed they’re trapped. Especially when they don’t believe there is a better way than what they have.” He nodded back down the hall. “Why don’t you and I go to my office and talk about how we can help each other?”
I squinted. “Why do I need your help?”
He laughed. “Abe, you should know better. If things don’t change, you’ll never be free either. Your wife will never be free. They will always come back. It’ll always be in the back of your head that you could have made a difference. That’s why you went back for Myra, wasn’t it?”
I looked him dead in the eye. “How do you know about that?”
“We’re the FBI. There’s not a lot we don’t know.”
We walked past the interrogation room I’d been in all night, and he motioned for me to follow him into an office not far from it. The placard had his name on the door.
“If you know everything then why have those other agents played the same game of twenty questions with me all night?”
Ford took a seat in one of two chairs in front of his desk, and I took the other.
“Because I told them to. Because I wanted to know your motivations.”
“What will happen if I just want to go home and forget this ever happened? If I want to move on with my life and never look back?”
Then he said the words I already knew were true. “That’s between you and God.”
31
Myra
It was killing me not hearing from Abe, but after barely any sleep the night before and the warm bath I’d taken, my eyes were as heavy as my heart.
“I’m going to lay down for a while,” I said to Dori and Ashley. They were still hanging around that evening. Even though I told them I’d be fine, they refused to leave until we knew what was going on. In all honestly, having them there was a giant comfort. “If you hear anything, please wake me up.”
Ashley sat on a blanket on the floor with Violet who was getting some tummy time in front of her.
“Yeah, go lay down. We’re fine,” Dori answered. “I’ll wake you if anything happens. Hell, I might wake you for the next shitty diaper. It’s your turn.”
I laughed. “I don’t mind shitty diapers.”
My swearing got their attention, and both of their faces darted toward mine.
Ashley covered her mouth with her hand but spoke behind it. “You said shitty.”
“It finally happened. We’ve corrupted her,” Dori said.
They chuckled, and I winked before I stepped around the bookcase and climbed onto the mattress to rest for a while.
I didn’t mind the ribbing. In fact, it was totally worth it. I’d never be a woman who swore like a trucker, but then again, who knew?
I also never thought I’d further my education. Never thought in a million years I’d take birth control. Never thought I’d go a Sunday without church. Never thought I’d wear worldly clothes or make up. Never dreamed I’d buy my own car or have a bank account of my own.
As I drifted off to sleep, my final thought was: I never knew I could be this happy, and I wasn’t about to let any of it be taken away.
“HOW’S MY GIRL?”
I rolled over toward the sound of him and it was dark except for the light in the living room slipping past the books on the shelf. I’d been dreaming about the old shop and for whatever reason, we were living in it.
Blinking myself awake, Abe wiped the hair out of my face.
“You’re home.”
Leaning toward me, he pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m home, and I’m not going anywhere again.”
Weight lifted off my body and it felt like I was sinking into a cloud. “Really?”
“Ted pulled from the job. I took tomorrow off, and right now the only thing I want to do is take a quick shower and climb into this bed with you.”
It was insane how he could mend me just by being close.
“What about the FBI? Are you in trouble?”
“No, Myra. I didn’t do anything wrong.” He pulled an elastic from his hair and shook it out.
“Are you hungry? We have leftover pizza,” I told him. Frankly, I could eat a piece or two myself.
“We grabbed some food on the way back. I’m fine. Just tired.”
I reached for my phone and the clock read nine-thirty. “Are Dori, Ashley, and the baby still here?” I couldn’t hear the television, but maybe they just turned it down or off.
“They left.” He stretched his neck and lifted his arms above his head, pulling his muscles. His eyes shut as he extended this way and that.
“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
“We’re going to talk about everything, but do you mind if we do it tomorrow? It will all eventually be fine—hopefully better than that. Then, when it’s all over, we’re going to put it behind us.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
He stood and went to his dresser, pulling out a clean pair of boxers, and then began to undress.
“If it was easy it would already be done,” he replied.
His words sank into me, and he was right. There was never a good time to do the hardest work. Never a moment when difficult things would ever be a breeze. But that didn’t mean we could avoid them.
I ate a piece of cold pizza while he showered and brought us each a bottle of water to bed.
Shortly after, he came out, turned off his bedside lamp, climbed under the blankets, and wrapped me up in his arms. He didn’t say anything, and that was all right.
Tomorrow we’d face whatever we had to, but for a few quiet hours we’d just rest, knowing whatever came at us we’d be ready to handle it.
SHOCKINGLY, ABE WAS awake when I climbed out of our warm, cozy sheets. It wasn’t late by any stretch, but it was seven and much later than I usually slept. Again.
I wrapped my robe around myself and padded into the other room.
Abe was sitting on the chair he’d build that I’d made cushions for, reading. When I got closer, I realized what book was in his lap. The Bible.
�
�Good morning,” I said and took a seat on the couch.
“Good morning.”
“Sleep well?”
“For the most part.” He slid the Bible across the surface of the coffee table. “Come here.”
For all the things that had happened, he looked peaceful—messy and rumbled from sleeping—but calm. I went to him and he patted his lap from me to climb onto the chair with him. As I got comfortable against his bare chest, he pulled me closer and ran his fingers across my arm.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“I’m glad to be home.” His scent was comforting, and his embrace grounded me.
“Should I cancel my tutoring this morning? I can text Cassie.”
“No. Don’t do that.” Abe pressed a kiss into my hair. “I need to spend some time in the shop anyway. I’ll get out of your way. Don’t cancel.”
“Okay, but will you tell me what happened in New Mecula?” It didn’t surprise me that my family hadn’t called with news of what happened with Matthew, and I understood how tired Abe was last night, but I really needed to know what was going on.
He sighed and readjusted in the chair. I sat up so I could look into his hazel eyes.
“Your brother is in a lot of trouble. He’d been bringing girls to New Mecula and grooming them to lure in men with money. He was basically planning to sell them to the highest bidder.” I remembered after Jacob’s funeral how going to New Mecula was one of the options for me and my future. Back then, I was so blind to see how wrong it all was. I’d thought if I prayed hard enough and asked God to help me, that whatever His will was would be the right thing.
I didn’t think like that anymore.
However, I didn’t blame God either.
At first, maybe I had. I’d been angry and confused. I didn’t have anywhere to put the blame. Now, I blamed Lancaster. The Legacies. Even my family and father—although I’d made my peace with him. I still hung onto the hope that he was misguided. He’d lived there most of his life too. I wanted to believe he didn’t truly know what he’d done was wrong.