Chapter 5 Pearls
Pearls
“We pray for God’s will to be carried out, for us to be vessels of his will. May God use us as his submissive instruments in bringing heaven to earth…”
Monica and I stood on the doorstep of Leah’s house, the parsonage for the Greenwood Kingdom Church.
The church itself sat on the outskirts of Bayern County, on a two-lane county road tracking the snaking path of the Copperhead River.
It was a new-build megachurch, resembling a warehouse more than a traditional church, surrounded by a massive parking lot and a few limp attempts at landscaping.
The parking lot was empty at this time of day.
The parsonage was tucked back on the property behind the church. A newly constructed home stood overlooking the river. Having a parsonage so close wasn’t common in modern times. Centuries ago, priests and parsons would live on church grounds.
There was a car in the driveway, a mid-eighties Mercedes, glossy and black. It seemed out of place next to the new build.
The front door, painted red, was closed. We could hear a male voice leading prayer within, punctuated by female voices announcing: “Amen.”
I rapped on the door. The voices within died, and a girl answered. She was maybe fifteen, dressed in a long-sleeved floral dress, with her blond hair tied back in braids. No makeup. “Yes?”
“I’m Lt. Anna Koray, with the Bayern County Sheriff’s Office. This is Captain Monica Wozniak. We wanted to come by to see how Leah was doing.”
Something flitted across her face as I spoke. Wordlessly, she opened the door wide and ushered us inside.
The interior was decorated in gray and white, looking like a doctor’s office. Well, except for the framed Bible quotes and the crosses decorating the walls.
I stared at the cross made of railroad spikes above one of the doors. That looked familiar.
Beyond that, the place was sterile. I glanced into the kitchen, with white quartz countertops. The living room had white couches and a wall-mounted television.
Leah Sims sat on a couch. Her gaze was focused on the clock twitching on the opposite wall.
Her eyes were red, and she was dressed in a denim jumper dress brushing her ankles.
I noticed that, unlike last night, there was no smear of makeup on her face now.
Her arms were covered by a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Her hair was braided away from her face, and her hands were clasped before her.
A pearl ring gleamed on her finger. Two teenage girls sat on either side of her on the couch, similar in dress to the girl who’d answered the door.
A reedy man with round glasses stood up from a recliner at the head of the room. He was holding a Bible.
“I’m Pastor Quentin Sims.” He reached out with a cool hand to shake mine. “Leah’s father.”
I forced the neutral expression on my face to remain unruffled. I recognized him from the high school yearbook photos of Jeff Sumner’s accused accomplices in the disappearance of Dana Carson, and from the Sumners’ wedding pictures. I bit my tongue and introduced myself and Monica.
“I’m very sorry to hear about what happened to Mason. It’s truly a tragedy. I’ve been praying with Jeff.”
“He’s a member of your church?” I asked.
“Yes. He and Drema have been members for years. Jeff and I go way back.”
Interesting. While Monica made small talk, my gaze drifted to the girls.
Leah sat, unmoving, on the couch. Her gaze was vacant, staring into space.
One of the girls smoothed her hair behind her ears.
She and the other girl were wearing pearl rings that matched Leah’s.
The girl who had answered the door sat on the floor at Leah’s feet. She also had a ring.
“Hi, Leah,” I began, but she didn’t answer me.
“She’s been like this since last night,” the blond girl whispered, holding Leah’s hand. “She won’t eat. She won’t sleep. She cried for hours.”
I exhaled. Leah had been chatty enough last night. What had shut her down? I didn’t see any lawyers in the room.
Just the father.
“I’m Anna.” I extended my hand to the girls, who shyly introduced themselves: Rebecca, Sarah, and Elizabeth.
Rebecca had answered the door, Sarah was the blond girl, and Elizabeth sat on Leah’s left.
Her long brown hair had been styled into space buns, and I detected the sheen of lip gloss on her mouth.
She looked the part, perfunctorily, but I detected a hint of rebellion.
Monica and I sat on a love seat across from the girls. The clock ticked loudly above us. There was a statue of a pair of praying hands on the mantel. No family pictures of the pastor or Leah, I observed. There was one portrait, of a woman holding a baby.
Pastor Sims followed my gaze. “That’s my late wife, Nora. I lost her to cancer several years ago.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.
Leah’s face twisted, and she blurted: “She should have lived.”
“It was God’s will that she be taken from us to a better place—” Pastor Sims began.
Leah’s lip curled. “It wasn’t God’s will that she didn’t go to the doctor.”
Sims crossed the room to put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Leah. Stop.”
Leah hissed, “He told me God would cure her, that she didn’t need chemo.”
Sims lifted his Bible, and Leah flinched. “God tells us to trust him. Leah, this willfulness does not serve God.”
Leah’s fingers, laced together, were white. “Was it God’s will for Mason to drown?”
“We are unable to understand the fullness of God’s plan, Leah. You know that.”
Leah’s friend whispered something into her ear, and she lapsed into silence. Ah. So religion had gotten in her ear…That was what silenced her.
Monica exhaled. “We have some questions about last night. Maybe it would be better if I spoke to the adults and Lt. Koray speaks to Leah?”
Sims shook his head. “I think anything that needs to be said can be said here, out in the open.”
I didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“How did Leah get the babysitting job?” Monica forged forward. “You said you were acquainted with the Sumners…?”
“Leah babysits for the Sumners, and other families at our church.” Sims settled back into his chair.
“We all look after the children in the cry room at church,” Rebecca said.
Leah remained silent, and I turned my attention to Rebecca. “You girls know each other from church?”
She nodded. “We’re all in the same homeschool pod.”
I noted this, though I wasn’t sure what to think. Was there real education going on here? Or was homeschooling an effort to keep the girls away from the secular nature of the world?
“How many boys and girls are in your pod?” I asked.
Sarah shook her head. “No boys. They go to public school.”
“It’s important to shield the girls from the temptations of the world,” Sims said.
I was biting my tongue so hard at the ridiculous sexism of this that it nearly bled, but Monica was on to the next question.
“So, Leah’s an experienced babysitter, then?” Monica asked.
“Oh yes. She’s been babysitting since she was thirteen, for three families. They’ve always said great things about her,” Sims confirmed.
I leaned forward and extracted my sharp tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Leah, do you know how to swim?”
Leah looked down at the floor. Whatever Rebecca had whispered to her had shut her up entirely.
I was conscious of the pastor’s weighty gaze upon her, too, and I was convinced we were going to get very little from this interview.
I had seen Leah’s genuine grief at Mason’s near drowning last night, then the flash of anger at her father today. And now…silence.
Sims shook his head. “Women in our church are prohibited from swimming. It’s an immodest activity. The waters of the womb are enough for our women and girls. Leah doesn’t know how to swim.”
What did that even mean? I tried to wrap my brain around it. Maybe Leah hadn’t tried to drown Mason, but negligence wasn’t off the table. And there were still the bruises to explain.
I turned my attention to Leah, trying to make eye contact. “Leah? When Mason arrived at the hospital, he had some bruises and scratches. Did he have any injuries when you came to the house? Or did he hurt himself while you were there?”
She didn’t speak, just stared straight ahead. She shook her head.
“Leah loves children,” Sims said. “She would never ever hurt anyone.”
“I understand.” I leaned forward, closer to Leah. “Leah, were you aware of anyone else around the house last night? Cars that might have pulled off the road or into the driveway?”
Leah shook her head again.
I looked at Sims. “Pastor Sims, we’ll be asking for Leah’s cell phone records, to establish a timeline of what happened…”
“I’m not so sure about that…” he began.
Leah stood up abruptly, reached into her pocket, came up with a phone in a glittery case, and handed it to me. I was surprised by her cooperation, honestly. Most teens would rather die than give their phone to an adult.
“I didn’t hurt him,” she hissed. Her cheeks bore bright spots of anger. “I would never.”
I glanced at Sims. His gaze had narrowed behind his glasses. I thought he was on the verge of objecting, but it would be bad form not to cooperate with the police. Right?
“There. You have it,” he said.
“Thank you. We appreciate your help. When we’re further along in the investigation, we’d like to come back.” And get Sims out of the room, I mentally added.
“Of course. But I want you to know…Leah really loves children. She wants to be a teacher. Before she gets married and devotes her life to God.” Sims smiled pleasantly.
I cocked my head. “Leah isn’t going to be a career educator?”
“No. She’s embracing her natural role as a mother. But those things take time.”
I bit my tongue hard. Leah looked away and dug her fingernails into the couch cushion beside her. I didn’t think a woman’s natural role was motherhood. I didn’t subscribe to the idea that biology was destiny.
But I had to remind myself to be objective, to focus on the case, on all the ripples affecting this community.