Land of Entrapment Read Free

knew Megan had some issues growing up, but she seemed okay even after Melissa and I had parted ways. “Why would you think that?”
    “His tattoos, for one. He only wears long-sleeved shirts around us, but a week before Megan disappeared, he showed up at a barbecue at our house and he had his sleeves unbuttoned but not rolled up.
    He reached for something and I saw that he’s got a swastika on his left forearm.”
    “Oh, hell.” I sighed and shifted into analytical mode, always a safe way for me to deal with my emotional shortcomings. “Well, maybe he’s seen the light and hasn’t had it removed yet. Does he know about you and Hillary?”
    “Yes. When Megan first introduced him to us, she said that Hillary and I were partners.”
    “So has he done anything that would make you think he’s still running with a bad crowd?”
    “No. That’s just it. He was always very polite and friendly to me and Hillary and he seemed to like Megan a lot. But when she disappeared, I went to her apartment and found all kinds of...of really horrible pamphlets, full of racist bullshit and stuff about the white race and...K.C., it made me physically sick. To think that Megan might be getting into that.”
    It generated a physical reaction in me, as well. My stomach clenched. “Had she been saying anything strange, acting differently toward you? Maybe it was subtle and you didn’t catch it. Think.”
    Melissa fell silent. “No.” She paused. “Wait. She asked me about two months ago why I thought I was gay. She’s never asked me that. She’s always just...
    It’s never even really been a topic of discussion.”
    “What did you say?”
    “I told her I was born this way and she asked me why, if there’s a genetic component, she wasn’t gay.
    Never mind the fact that we only share one parent.
    But I told her that the latest studies—you know, trying to use science—suggest that whatever goes on in utero might have something to do with it. That the way hormones interact in the uterus—you know what I’m talking about, right?”
    I nodded. I’d seen the latest studies, too.
    “And then she asked if that was true, could I take hormones and change it?” Melissa stared at me, intense. “What the hell do you say to that?”
    I didn’t know. So I waited.
    Melissa brushed hair out of her face. “I told her that nobody knew for sure what the hormone cocktail did or was made up of in the womb and that there was no way to alter the hard-wiring of your brain, which is what happens when you’re in utero and when your hormones continue to work on you throughout your life.”
    “And what was her response?”
    “She just kind of shrugged and said she had heard that you could change your sexual orientation and then Cody called—”
    “Cody? That’s the boyfriend?” I interrupted.
    “Yes. And she took the call and said she had to go.”I chewed my lip, thinking. “Did she bring it up again after that?”
    “No.”
    “Has she said anything about your grandma?”
    Melissa shook her head, sad. “She stopped talking to her.”
    Oh, hell. Melissa’s Nez Perce grandmother lived in Oregon. She had married a white man and their kids married other whites, as well. Still, Melissa was close to her grandmother and her Native roots. Megan was the child of Melissa’s father and his second wife.
    Because of dad, Megan and Melissa shared their Native American grandmother. I sat back. “It sounds like this guy’s not trying to leave the movement and that he’s recruiting Megan.”
    Melissa watched me, lips drawn in a thin, tight line.“Here’s the hard part,” I said gently. “She’s an adult. And you can’t really tell her what she can and cannot do. The police can’t do anything about this unless one of them has committed a crime. Belonging to a white supremacist group is not a crime in this country. I’m sorry.” She looked at me and I could see tears in her eyes, which made me want to hug her. I refrained, with a mighty