I've searched my memory and my diaries, but I cannot recall how we met, likely at one of the many welcoming dinners or small dances. They lived togeth...r in a large house on a hill above town, both childless and youngish widows, descendants of one of those first families as they regularly informed us.The older sister, Rebecca, was a stately and stylish woman in her mid-thirties who had already outlived two husbands and now owned scores of slaves and hundreds of acres, all being tenant farmed. I. ?She?s ready.Have you got everything?? ?Yeah. Let?s put her inher box.? He gripped her at the ankles, the other man lifted her from behindand she was lowered into the crate that sat on the trolley. The curly hairedman tossed in her shoes, her hat and her handbag before fitting the lid of thecrate. Rebecca heard the clack of the other crates being stacked on top of herown. The trolley began to move. As it bounced out of the door and up the rampinto the truck her captor was still singing? ?So. More

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