CHAPTER 4
GRACE
The snowy peaks of Mt. Hood loomed in the distance as I crossed the Green county line heading into Greenville.
“Egotistical, much?” I murmured to myself as I slowed down my car. I’d done a little research on the town before I’d left home and I’d learned that Greenville was incorporated in the late eighteen-hundreds by Bodhi Green’s grandfather, William Edward Green.
Apparently, he’d been quite the philanthropist, after making a fortune in California gold. Looking for a place to call home, he bought up hundreds and hundreds of acres at the foothills of Mt. Hood and started his own town. He’d given money to friends and family so they could start their own businesses, investing all of his own money back into the community to help get it started.
His son, Bodhi, Sr., had continued to foster the family’s generosity, which only ensured generations of loyalty from the townsfolk for decades to the Green family. By the time Bodhi, Jr. was born, the Green family was filthy rich and Bodhi grew up in luxury, raised by nannies and maids, while his parents spent their time forming committees and appointing themselves to the boards of directors of whatever organization’s interests struck their fancy.
Bodhi Green enjoyed the fruits of his ancestor’s labor and after a brief career as the star of Oregon State’s football team, he returned to Greenville to continue his family’s legacy.
He took over for his father when he became too old to run his company, and he’d been the CEO of Green Enterprises ever since. He’d been born into money and by the looks of his name on everything in site as I drove through the tiny town, he enjoyed the fame, too.
I found the school easily, on the south side of town, just a few blocks from the downtown square. The school was quiet and peaceful, with the occasional shout from a child breaking through the silence as I found my way to the Principal’s office. I’d opted to come here first, my distrust for police still on high alert.
I was hoping that Molly Green just needed an outside adult to do some advocating for her and once the principal heard from me, we’d be able to get this little girl some help.
I waited in the tiny waiting area in the front office after announcing myself to Ms. Canterbury’s assistant. She greeted me with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Reserved and aloof, she wore a tailored, floral violet suit, with matching violet pumps and bright purple glasses.
“How can I help you today, Grace?”
“Thank you for seeing me. I’m writing a book about small towns in Oregon,” I began, giving her my cover story right away. “During my research on Greensville, I came across a disturbing rumor about Molly Green, one of your students.”
“Molly Green? Is that so?”
“Yes. It appears she might be the victim of abuse and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
Her smile faded immediately and she leaned across her desk.
“Abuse? By whom, pray tell?”
“Her father.”
“Bodhi Green?” she asked, lifting a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “That’s impossible.”
“Why is it impossible?”
“Bodhi Green is an honorable man. He’d never hurt his daughter.”
“I understand his family founded this town?”
“That’s correct. The Green family has done wonders for this community.”
“What about Molly’s mother?”
Her eyes clouded over and she shook her head.
“She’s a lovely woman. We don’t see her much.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Perhaps she’s being abused, as well?”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it?” I asked. “I heard Molly has a broken arm.”
“What?” she asked. “If that’s so, I’m not aware. I believe she’s in class today.”
“It happened last night.”
“You sure know a lot about this family, Grace. Are you a friend of the family? A relative?”
“No. Just a concerned party. Like I said, I’m writing a book.”
“Who gave you this erroneous information?” she demanded.
“I can’t reveal my sources,” I said, flashing her an apologetic smile.
“Well, you can rest assured, if Molly has a broken arm, I’m sure that there’s a perfectly good explanation for it.”
“I was told Mr. Green was responsible for it.”
“Again, that’s absurd. I can assure you,” she said, standing up. “Now, is that all?”
“You’re not going to do anything about it?”
“What would you have me do?”
“You’re a mandatory reporter. You’re required by law to report suspected child abuse.”
“I don’t suspect any such thing.”
“I’ve just informed you. You can’t just ignore this.”
“I’ll talk to Molly, okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes,” she said, curtly, looking down at a fuchsia watch on her wrist.
I shook my head, realizing she wasn’t going to be of any help at all.
I stood and turned towards the door and then paused, turning back.
“Perhaps I should talk to Mrs. Green, Molly’s mother?”
Her eyes hardened and a steely, fake smile spread across her face.
“Good luck with that.”
I nodded and walked out, shaking my head in disbelief. I stopped outside of the door of the school’s office, gazing down the glistening hallway, a dozen doors on either side, the sound of chattering voices pouring out of the classrooms.
Molly was in there somewhere.
I hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet, but I knew that whatever she was going through, she deserved a little help.