Murder in the Boonies: A Sleuth Sisters Mystery (The Sleuth Sisters Book 3) by Maggie Pill Page B

influenced me.
    “Pansy went crazy for the animals,” Iris was saying. “Back then Ben just had chickens and cows, but she was out there getting to know them ten seconds after we arrived.”
    “Ben asked you all to move out there with him.”
    “He said what a great family we made, and how we could live the way the Lord intended, growing food and taking care of the land.”
    “She agreed to live with him but refused to marry him?”
    Iris sighed. “She said if we ever had to leave, she didn’t want him to have any hold on us.”
    “How did he take that?”
    “He was really grumpy. Pastor Cronk kept taking Mom into his office for private talks. Afterwards she’d tell me what he said.”
    “And what was that?”
    She frowned a little as she tried to get it right. “Pastor said God wants the church to bless the relationship between a man and a woman, but Mom said God is patient, so He wouldn’t mind if she thought about it for a while.”
    “It sounds like your mom didn’t quite trust Ben.” Iris didn’t answer, and I asked, “Was she right about that?”
    “Like I said, he was never mean, but he was kind of weird.”
    I spoke casually. “Weird how?”
    “A lot of the time he didn’t talk. Sometimes we’d go all day without Ben saying anything except yes and no. Other times he’d talk for hours—at least that’s what it seemed like. It was almost like a sermon, but sometimes it didn’t even make sense.”
    “What kind of things did he say?”
    Iris stooped and picked up a stone that had found its way into the flower bed. “He talked about being a good Christian a lot, but Ben drank beer—a lot of it. Sometimes he got into fights at the bar, and once he came home with a big old black eye. He didn’t talk to any of us for about two days.” She pulled tangled vines from the rake’s teeth. “He lied sometimes, too.”
    “Lied?”
    “Yes. Like at first, we thought he owned the farm.”
    “He told you that?”
    “Nobody remembers him saying it, but—”
    “He let you believe it.”
    “Right.” She attacked a corner, angling the rake to remove a clump of wet, rotten leaves. “He talked like the farm equipment belonged to him, but later we found out it didn’t.”
    “No. It belongs to Mr. Masters.”
    Iris smiled. “He’s nice. In the winter he makes sure we have enough feed for the animals.”
    “Did Ben ever hurt your mom?”
    “No. He always said women are weak and need a man to protect them.” Iris paused, leaning on the rake handle. “All the men at church say stuff like that.”
    “About women being weak?”
    “They say how precious we are and how God wants them to cherish us.” Her brow puckered. “But my teacher says men who only let women do what they say are bullies.”
    “You girls were only supposed to do what Ben wanted.”
    “Mom, too.” Her eyes narrowed as she sought an example. “We had a car at first, but Ben said Mom had to sell it. He took the money and bought this old truck. Said it was more practical.”
    “For the farm.”
    “Yes. He had Mom put the truck in her name, but she wasn’t supposed to drive it because women aren’t very good drivers.” She paused, remembering. “Ben drove, Daisy sat on Mom’s lap, and Pansy and I had to sit on the little sideways seats in the back.”
    “Not very comfortable for five people.”
    “It was just a pain doing everything his way, you know? Lately we did most of the work on the farm, but Ben still gave the orders.”
    “Was he busy with something else?”
    She shrugged. “I guess.”
    “I know your mom paid the rent. Did she handle the money?”
    “Yes, but she had to show Ben what she spent at the end of the month.” Bitterly she added, “And it was mostly our money!”
    While Iris went to get the wheelbarrow we’d left at the front of the house, I thought about how a man like Ben McAdams keeps a woman under his thumb: fear of being alone, fear of financial insecurity, fear of making him angry. Often