Page 17 of Toy

Martha picked up a packet of cigarettes from the coffee table and pulled one out. “I usually don’t smoke inside, but this is a bit of a shock, seeing you two after so long,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “Do you mind?”

Jolie waved her hand. “It’s your place. You don’t need to ask us for permission,” she said, forcing a smile.

I leaned over and patted her leg. I knew how hard it was for her to fake being casual and friendly with this woman. “You’re doing great,” I murmured softly in her ear as Martha lit her cigarette and took a big puff. “Just keep going.”

While Jolie made some general small talk with Martha, I excused myself and went into the kitchen to ask Travis for directions to the bathroom. After being told to go down the main hall and make a right, I made a beeline for the master bedroom instead. I had to be quick, because even though Martha was distracted with Jolie and Travis was making coffee, it was still only a matter of time before one of them wondered why the hell I was taking so long to use the bathroom.

Going as fast as I could, I methodically raided the bedroom drawers and cupboards, searching for anything that might prove that Martha was still in contact with the cult. I didn’t expect to find much of anything—I figured we’d get more out of a conversation with her—but I wanted to look anyway, just in case.

What I found surprised me. Amongst all the clothes and random paperwork in the drawers, there was a substantial collection of brightly-colored sex toys, handcuffs, and blindfolds. There was also a bong and a vape pen on one of the bedside tables, along with a large bag of pot. It wasn’t exactly the typical bedroom of a fundamentalist cult obsessive.

Either she wasn’t our girl, or she hid her true nature well. If it was the latter, we’d have to get her away from Travis at some point and extract the information from her in a much nastier way than a simple social call.

I returned to the living room. Jolie was in the middle of telling Martha what she’d been up to over the last few years. “What about you?” she finally said, tilting her head to the side. “I just realized I haven’t actually seen you since we were rescued.”

Jolie had previously told me that after the rescue, all the women and children were sent to some place in Baton Rouge where they were given a few years’ worth of education to prepare them for the outside world. Martha, however, had apparently refused to take part. She slipped away in the middle of the night right at the start, and no one had heard from her since.

Martha nodded. “Yeah. It’s been a while,” she said, looking away. I didn’t miss the guilt flickering in her eyes, as much as she tried to hide it.

“So where did you go?” Jolie asked, keeping her voice light and casual.

“Here and there,” Martha said with a shrug. She ditched her cigarette in an ashtray and picked up another one.

“But you didn’t have any money,” Jolie said, leaning forward. “How did you survive? Surely someone had to have helped you.”

Martha frowned. Jolie immediately pulled back and held up a hand. “Sorry, I’m prying.”

“No, no. You’re fine,” Martha replied with a heavy sigh. “It makes sense that you have questions, considering the circumstances back then. I just don’t like to think about it much, that’s all. But if you really must know, I spent a few nights sleeping under a bridge after I ran away. I had no idea what to do or where to go. No plan whatsoever. Then Travis found me.”

“That’s right.” Travis had just stepped back into the room with a tray of steaming coffee cups and a jug of milk. He set it down on the table and looked fondly at his girlfriend. “The rest is history.”

My brows shot up. “So you two have been together this whole time?”

“Basically, yeah.” Martha smiled and nodded. “He helped me get back on my feet, and eventually we wound up together. We moved here because Travis has family here, and he was also offered a really good position at a local gallery. He’s an artist.”

“Right. What about you?”

“I teach drama to middle school kids,” Martha said. “And I act in local theater on the weekends.”

Jolie shot a brief glance at me. I could tell exactly what she was thinking. Despite the guilty look Martha had on her face when we asked her where she went, she didn’t seem all that suspicious. If she still had ties to the cult, it seemed unlikely that she’d be in a relationship with a tattooed artist and work as an actress on the weekends. That wasn’t the ‘right’ lifestyle for a true believer of the cult doctrines.

Martha suddenly sat up straight and looked at her boyfriend. “Oh my god, we’re so rude, babe. They just drove all the way here from New Orleans. We should offer them some snacks! They’re probably starving.”

She excused herself and headed to the kitchen. Travis trailed after her. I took the opportunity to tell Jolie what I found in the bedroom.

“So you don’t think it’s her?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“I’m not sure. She just doesn’t seem like a nutso cult member anymore. There’s no way Travis is a part of it either, and he’s been with her for eight years. Surely he’d notice if she was still in contact with anyone shady.”

Jolie shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she teaches drama and acts sometimes. That means she’s probably a good actress. So maybe she hides who she really is from everyone in her life, and she still talks to my father on the side.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe. I really can’t tell right now.”

“What should we do?”

“I think we should stop skirting around the issue. We should ask her about New Eden and the day before the raid,” I said. “See what kind of reaction we get. If she’s guilty, she’ll lie, but we’ll be able to tell. No one is that good at acting. Even a literal theater actress.”

Jolie nodded. “Okay.”

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