“How what got started?” Linderman asked.
“How the townsfolk in Chatham started losing limbs to collect on the insurance,” Seppi replied. “It was sick, but that was what a whole bunch of them did.”
“You mean they purposely amputated their limbs?”
“Yeah. One guy sawed off his hand at work; another shot off his foot while protecting his chickens. One dumb ass cut off his hand and his foot with his tractor because he thought it would get him more money. In two years, a hundred people filed claims for accidents.”
“Didn’t the insurance companies catch on?”
“Not right away. The people were smart about it. Some went into the next county and had their accidents, while others did it on vacation. It took the heat off the town. I heard they collected twenty million dollars.”
“And no one caught on,” Linderman said.
“Not right away,” Seppi said. “Then two years ago, a couple of the big insurance companies in Jacksonville merged, and their books got audited. Some smart accountant saw all these claims that had been paid to Chatham. The company got suspicious, and hired a pair of investigators to snoop around.”
“Did they find anything?”
“Three people in town tried to talk, but they got silenced. Travis Bledsoe and his four sons did the dirty work. They burned Kaplan’s barn, and killed his horses. They also paid a visit to an old couple named Webber who used to be missionaries. The Webbers refused to shut up, and they disappeared.”
“What was the sheriff’s involvement?” Linderman asked.
“Sheriff Morcroft figured out what was going on twenty years ago. He extorted the people who’d cut off their limbs, and got them to pay him protection money.”
“How many people in town know about this?”
“Most of them, I guess.”
“Explain to me how Mouse and Lonnie fit into this scenario,” Linderman said.
Seppi grew silent and crushed a cigarette in an ashtray. I stood across from her, watching her facial expressions. She’d been composed up until now. But I knew from past experience that this was going to be the hard part. Mouse and Lonnie had kept her prisoner for a long time. Getting her to talk about it was not going to be easy.
The suite had a minibar. I pulled out a bottle of overpriced spring water, and filled up a glass. I brought it to Seppi, and suggested that she drink it. She smiled at me with her eyes, and drank the glass until it was empty.
“Mouse and Lonnie showed up in Chatham in the early 1990s,” Seppi said. “They lived on a dairy farm that Mouse’s uncle owned. People in town knew they were up to no good, but didn’t say anything.”
“Why not?” Linderman asked.
“Mouse knew about the insurance scam. He was part of the club.”
“So Sheriff Morcroft left them alone.”
“That’s right. Sometimes Mouse came into town to buy things. Outside of that, nobody saw them much.”
“Did the townspeople know that Mouse and Lonnie were keeping young women in the compound against their will?” Linderman asked.
Seppi grew silent. I refilled her glass and earned another smile. I mouthed the words Take your time. She nodded, and lit up a fresh cigarette.
“People knew they had girls,” Seppi finally said. “Mouse would buy tampons at the CVS and make jokes about it. But the people in town discounted it.”
Linderman drew back in his chair. “How did they discount it?”
“A gang of Hells Angels once lived in Chatham. Their girlfriends would wear patches that said ‘Property of Big Frank’ or ‘Property of Crazy Al.’ The girls were slaves, but they went along with it. People in town treated Mouse and Lonnie’s girls the same way. They assumed the girls were there because they wanted to be.”
“How did you end up with them?” Linderman asked.
Seppi’s eyes grew distant. “I was a cashier at the supermarket one summer. Mouse came in one day, and saw my schoolbooks. He asked me what I was going to college for. I told him I was studying to be a nurse.
“Two weeks later, I was back in school in Daytona, hanging around my dorm room one weekend. There was a knock on my door, and I opened it. Lonnie rushed in and knocked me out. I didn’t remember very much, except how that giant son-of-a-bitch kept smiling at me.
“I woke up inside their farm. Mouse had soldered metal bracelets around my ankles. The bracelets had bells on them. I couldn’t move without them hearing me.
“Mouse explained the deal to me that night. He told me that I was a substitute for a nurse who Lonnie had fallen in love with when he was in a mental institution. My job was to give Lonnie his medicine, and shoot him up with steroids. I also had to measure him every few days to make sure he wasn’t growing anymore. I also had to cook, and keep the place clean. If I did my job well and kept Lonnie happy, Mouse said nothing would happen to me.”
“Were you sexually assaulted?” Linderman asked.
Seppi sucked hard on her cigarette. “No. Mouse wanted to sleep with me-he said so a bunch of times-but Lonnie wouldn’t let him. I was Lonnie’s girl.”
“Did Lonnie rape you?”
“The steroids shrunk up his balls.”
“How did you manage to escape?”
“They screwed up. One day Mouse went into town, and Lonnie stayed behind. It was hot outside, and Lonnie had been lifting weights in the yard. He came inside, and told me he wasn’t feeling well. I gave him a cold drink and suggested he lie down on the couch. He went and lay down, and fell asleep. I walked past him a couple of times, and rang my bells. He didn’t wake up.”
“Is that when you ran?”
“Not right away. I was scared. I knew what had happened to Mouse and Lonnie’s other victims. But when I realized this was probably my only chance, I left.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went straight to Sheriff Morcroft. He listened to my story, then put me in his cruiser, and took me to my momma’s nursing home. He told me he was sorry about what had happened, but because of the insurance claims, he couldn’t draw attention to the town. When we got to the nursing home, he told me he’d kill my momma if I made any trouble.”
“What did you do?” Linderman asked.
“I went home and cried for two weeks. Then I took the hostess job at The Sweet Lowdown, and got on with my life. It was strange. Folks in town just acted like nothing had happened. After a while, I started doing the same thing.”
Lying on the coffee table was a folder containing the missing person reports of the other victims. Linderman spread the reports across the table.
“What happened to Mouse and Lonnie’s other victims?” Linderman asked.
Seppi looked at the reports, and the color drained from her cheeks. The victims’ faces stared up at her. Seppi’s expression turned strangely vacant, and she turned sideways on the couch, and stared at the wall.
“They died,” she muttered.
“Did Lonnie kill them?” Linderman asked.
“Yeah. There was a small cemetery behind the house where he buried them. He liked to put flowers on their graves.”
“So the other four victims are buried at the compound?” Linderman said.
“There were five,” Seppi said.
The suite grew silent. I saw Linderman’s jaw clench.
“Tell me about the other victim,” Linderman said.
“She was right before me,” Seppi said. “They kidnapped her down in south Florida. I saw her sneakers lying around one day.”
“Running sneakers?” Linderman asked.
“I think so. They were blue Nikes.”
