“Good,” Esther echoed, spooning more into another glass. She left the third alone, and Lena hoped it wasn’t meant for Jeffrey.

“Everyone’s particular, aren’t they?” Esther asked, walking past Lena toward the hall.

Lena followed. “What’s that?”

“About tastes,” she explained. “Abby loves sweets. Once, when she was a baby, she ate almost a full cup of sugar before I realized she had gotten into the cabinet.”

They passed the library, and Lena said, “You have a lot of books.”

“Classics, mostly. Some potboilers and westerns, of course. Ephraim loves crime fiction. I guess he’s attracted to the black and white of it all. The good guys on one side, the bad guys on the other.”

“It’d be nice,” Lena found herself saying.

“Becca loves romances. Show her a book with a long-haired Adonis on the cover and she’ll finish it in two hours.”

“You let her read romances?” Lena asked. She had been thinking these people were the same kind of nutballs who got on the news for banning Harry Potter.

“We let the children read anything they like. That’s the deal for not having a television in the house. Even if they’re reading trash, it’s better than watching it on the tube.”

Lena nodded, though in her mind she wondered what it would be like to live without television. Watching mindless TV was the only thing that had kept her sane the last three years.

“There you are,” Lev said when they entered the room. He took a glass from Esther and handed it to Jeffrey.

“Oh, no,” Esther said, taking it back. “This one’s yours.” She handed the sweeter lemonade to Jeffrey, who, like Ephraim, had stood when they entered the room. “I don’t imagine you like it as tart as Lev does.”

“No, ma’am,” Jeffrey agreed. “Thank you.”

The front door opened and a man who looked like the male version of Esther walked in, his hand at the elbow of an older woman who seemed too fragile to walk by herself.

The man said, “Sorry we’re late.”

Jeffrey moved, taking his lemonade with him, so that the woman could take his chair. Another woman who looked more like Lev entered the house, her reddish-blond hair wound into a bun on the top of her head. To Lena, she looked like the quintessential sturdy farmwoman who could drop a baby in the fields and keep on picking cotton the rest of the day. Hell, the whole family looked strong. The shortest one was Esther, and she had a good six inches on Lena.

“My brother, Paul,” Lev said, indicating the man. “This is Rachel.” The farmwoman nodded her head in greeting. “And Mary.”

From what Esther had said, Mary was younger than Lev, probably in her midforties, but she looked and acted like she was twenty years older. She took her time settling into the chair, as if she was afraid she’d fall and break a hip. She even sounded like an old woman when she said, “You’ll have to excuse me, I haven’t been well,” in a tone that invited pity.

“My father couldn’t join us,” Lev told them, deftly sidestepping his sister. “He’s had a stroke. He doesn’t get out much these days.”

“That’s quite all right,” Jeffrey told him, then addressed the other family members. “I’m Chief Tolliver. This is Detective Adams. Thank you all for coming.”

“Shall we sit?” Rachel suggested, going to the couch. She indicated Esther should sit beside her. Again, Lena felt the division of tasks between the men and women of the family, seating arrangements and kitchen duties on one side, everything else on the other.

Jeffrey tilted his head slightly, motioning Lena to Esther’s left as he leaned against the fireplace mantel. Lev waited until Lena was seated before helping Ephraim into the chair beside Jeffrey. He raised his eyebrows slightly, and Lena knew that he had probably gotten quite an earful while she was in the kitchen. She couldn’t wait to compare notes.

“So,” Jeffrey said, as if the small talk was out of the way and they could finally get down to business. “You say Abby’s been missing for ten days?”

“That’s my fault,” Lev said, and Lena wondered if he was going to confess. “I thought Abby was going on the mission into Atlanta with the family. Ephraim thought she was staying on the farm with us.”

Paul said, “We all thought that was the case. I don’t think we need to assign blame.” Lena studied the man for the first time, thinking he sounded a lot like a lawyer. He was the only one of them wearing what looked like store-bought clothes. His suit was pin-striped, his tie a deep magenta against his white shirt. His hair was professionally cut and styled. Paul Ward looked like the city mouse standing next to his country-mouse brother and sisters.

“Whatever the case, none of us thought anything untoward was happening,” Rachel said.

Jeffrey must have gotten the full story about the farm, because his next question was not about the family or the inner workings of Holy Grown. “Was there someone around the farm Abby liked being around? Maybe one of the workers?”

Rachel provided, “We didn’t really let her mingle.”

“Surely she met other people,” Jeffrey said, taking a sip of lemonade. He seemed to be doing everything in his power not to shudder from the tartness as he put the glass on the mantel.

Lev said, “She went to church socials, of course, but the field workers keep to themselves.”

Esther added, “We don’t like to discriminate, but the field workers are a rougher sort of person. Abby wasn’t really introduced to that element of the farm. She was told to stay away from them.”

“But she worked some in the fields?” Lena asked, remembering their earlier conversation.

“Yes, but only with other family members. Cousins, mostly,” Lev said. “We have a rather large family.”

Esther listed, “Rachel has four, Paul has six. Mary’s sons live in Wyoming and…”

She didn’t finish. Jeffrey prompted, “And?”

Rachel cleared her throat, but it was Paul who spoke. “They don’t visit often,” he said, the tension in his voice echoing what Lena suddenly felt in the room. “They haven’t been back in a while.”

“Ten years,” Mary said, looking up at the ceiling like she wanted to trap her tears. Lena wondered if they had run screaming from the farm. She sure as hell would have.

Mary continued, “They chose a different path. I pray for them every day when I get up and every evening before I go to bed.”

Sensing Mary could monopolize things for a while, Lena asked Lev, “You’re married?”

“Not anymore.” For the first time, his expression appeared unguarded. “My wife passed away in childbirth several years ago.” He gave a pained smile. “Our first child, unfortunately, but I have my Ezekiel to comfort me.”

Jeffrey waited an appropriate interval before saying, “So, you guys thought Abby was with her parents, her parents thought she was with you. This was, what, ten days ago you went on your mission?”

Esther answered, “That’s right.”

“And you do these missions about four times a year?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a registered nurse?” he asked.

Esther nodded, and Lena tried to hide her surprise. The woman seemed to volunteer yards of useless information about herself at the drop of a hat. That she had kept back this one detail seemed suspicious.

Esther supplied, “I was training at Georgia Medical College when Ephraim and I married. Papa thought it’d be handy to have someone with practical first-aid experience around the farm, and the other girls can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“That’s the truth,” Rachel agreed.

Jeffrey asked, “Do you have many accidents here?”

“Thank goodness, no. A man sliced through his Achilles tendon three years ago. It was a mess. I was able to use my training to control the bleeding, but there was nothing else I could do for him other than basic triage. We really need a doctor around.”

“Who do you normally see?” Jeffrey asked. “You have children around here sometimes.” As if explaining, he added, “My wife is a pediatrician in town.”