Visions of Hope

by Candace Murrow

  She smiled briefly and withdrew her hand. He'd given her that tender look again, the one she'd observed now and then throughout their business relationship or friendship, or whatever their relationship was morphing into. Yet, for her, things hadn't changed. She couldn't allow any feelings she might have for him influence her. She had to stay strong and centered with a heart full of compassion and love, but not the kind of love she sensed he wanted. If he saw her body, the disappointment in his face would kill her. She shuddered to think about it.

  Descending into the valley gave her a chance to concentrate on the task at hand. At the bottom of the hill, the highway branched--one arm turning south and continuing on, and the other arm reaching into the town. Kipp followed the sign to Grand.

  They passed a café, a gas station, a grocery store, and a few older buildings until the road veered left out of town. They traveled down this long country road with nothing on either side except wheat-colored fields and a spectacular view of the mountain peaks. The farther they drove, more aspens highlighted the landscape. The only signs along the way were mileage signs.

  Kipp tried to follow along with the map between them, glancing from time to time, until Libby snatched it away just to be safe. "This is leading nowhere, Libby."

  "I know," she said. "In my mind, all I saw were the mountain peaks, but I have to sense my way from here. This way doesn't feel right. Turn around and go back."

  With no cars coming toward them, Kipp made a U-turn in the middle of the road. He motored through Grand again and found the gas station. "I'm going to fill up and talk to the attendant."

  Libby stayed in the Jeep. She was thinking about the symbols she saw in Kipp's reading and wondering if she'd made a mistake in her interpretation when she spotted two women in identical dresses going into the grocery store. Without warning, Kelly's face flashed before her, signaling a connection. She started shivering--another positive sign.

  If she told Kipp, knowing his state of mind, he would rush headlong into the store and start bullying them with his questions. That would be the worst thing he could do. She sensed this matter had to be handled with delicacy.

  When Kipp got back in the Jeep, she put her plan in motion. "I need something at the store."

  "Okay. I'll drive over and go with you."

  "I thought maybe you could stay here and ask the station attendant about motels in the area."

  "Let me go for you," he insisted. "I'll buy you whatever you want." He put the key in the ignition.

  Libby rested her hand on his. "I don't think you'll want to buy what I need." She waited for him to make the connection.

  He responded with a perplexed look, then his face turned a healthy pink. He opened the door to get out. She swung her purse strap over her shoulder and scurried across the street, chuckling over Kipp's reaction.

  The store, in mild disrepair, was old and battered from the wind. The white paint on the screen door was chipped and peeling. It creaked as she entered.

  She nodded to the clerk, a stocky woman with rough skin and thick muddy hair. Straight ahead, she saw the two look-alikes. From the back, they mirrored each other: drab ankle-length dresses, dark shoes, hair tied back in a bun. She instantly felt drawn to them.

  The shelves were stocked full of canned goods, the aisles narrow. Libby pressed forward, and when she squeezed by one of the women, gently bumping her arm, a swirl of images bombarded her: clapboard buildings, golden meadows, people in strange, colorless clothing gathered around a table.

  Dizzy, she braced herself against a shelf post. Though nothing made sense, the images were strong and clear and reinforced her feeling that she and Kipp were on the right track.

  The two women had advanced to the front of the store, and Libby strained to hear their conversation over the hum of the freezer compartment next to her. The only words spoken came from the gravelly voice of the clerk.

  Libby grabbed a box of tampons for Kipp's benefit and waited for the women to leave the store. She walked up to the counter to investigate. "It's unusual to see someone dressed like that in the middle of summer."

  "You mean those women?"

  Libby nodded.

  "They're just unusual, period."

  Libby laid her money on the counter. "So, are they twins?"

  "You're not from these parts, are you?"

  "No, just passing through."

  "See those hills?" She pointed at the window behind her over a Coca Cola sign. "There's a religious group up there. They make up half this town now."

  "What kind of religious group?"

  "Sort of like the Mormons used to be. They're polygamists."

  "Isn't that illegal?"

  "They don't bother nobody, and nobody bothers them. You know what I mean? We're all peaceful around here."

  As she counted out Libby's change, the screen door rattled open and a bearded, gruff-looking man in black pants, gray jacket, and work boots—heavily dressed for the time of the year—entered the store. Curious, Libby watched the man disappear down one of the aisles. When she turned back, the clerk gave her a challenging look. Libby deemed no more questions were allowed. She left the store.

  Before crossing the road, she looked westward toward the hills the clerk spoke of, but the sun, at a glaring angle, prevented her from seeing very far. When she climbed into the Jeep, she could feel her heart thumping.

  Kipp glanced at the package in her hand and started the engine. "Did you get what you needed?"

  "Yes. Thanks for waiting."

  "I found out there are no motels in the area. We're going to have to drive back to Idaho Falls tonight."

  Libby pondered whether or not to tell Kipp about the women and what she'd sensed in the store. Something inside kept harping at her to go slow, but as anxious as she was to share the information, she ignored the warning. She heard him say her name, and she blurted, "I have something to tell you."

  "What is it?"

  "There's a community of polygamists living up in the hills."

  "That's interesting," he said. "That must have been what Ted at the visitor's center was talking about."

  "It's more than interesting," she said. "When you were talking to the attendant, I noticed two women who were dressed identically in long dresses, had hair done up in buns. They belong to that community."

  "Must be what Ted meant when he said it was like going back in time."

  "That's not all. When I was near them in the store, I had some strong feelings, Kipp. I think there might be a connection."

  "To Kelly?"

  "I think so. The feelings were so strong."

  "But it's a polygamist community. What would that have to do with Kelly?"

  "I don't know right now. I got a powerful feeling. I saw her face. I just know what I'm feeling."

  "Okay, if you feel that strongly about it, let's go up there and have a look for ourselves."

  "Not yet."

  "What if she's up there?"

  "I'm not positive."

  "But you said there's a connection."

  "A connection, maybe, but we have to take this slow."

  "Why?"

  "Please trust me."

  Kipp gunned the engine and swung onto the road west.

  "Where are you going now?"

  "To have a look."

  "Kipp, don't." Why hadn't she listened to her inner voice?

  Trying to convince Kipp to back off was like trying to persuade a boxer to stay out of the ring. She only prayed he would not get them into a precarious situation.

  Across the highway was a gravelly road leading deeper into the hills. She hoped he wouldn't see it, but her hopes were dashed when he crossed the highway and made the turn. He slowed way down to avoid spraying the car with pebbles. Tall yellow grasses lined both sides of the roadway that appeared to end in a grove of aspens.

  As they drove farther on, the gravel thinned to dirt. The road wove through the trees, but it was blocked by a locked gate. Tacked to one of the end posts in brigh
t orange letters was a sign that read No Trespassing.

  Kipp got out and inspected the gate. He yanked on the padlock, but it held tight.

  Libby's stomach fluttered and churned. This had to be the place because the forward feeling was overwhelming.

  She sprang from the car. By the time she reached Kipp's side, her sandals were covered with dust.

  She placed her hand on one of the posts, and a jolt of energy passed through her, so strong it was painful. Sucking a breath in, she turned away from Kipp to mask her reaction, because instinctively she knew it was the wrong time to probe.

  Back in the Jeep, Kipp slammed his hands on the steering wheel. "Damn."

  "We better go back," Libby said, "and think about what we're doing."

  "I'm tired of thinking." Kipp backed the Jeep around, flipping rocks, and drove onto the highway.

  "Where are you going now?"

  "I saw the sheriff's office on our way through."

  "No." She clutched his arm.

  "Libby," he said, "this time you'll have to trust me."

  Desperate to keep him from dynamiting their best chance, she said, "Whatever you do, Kipp, don't mention Kelly. Please."

  When they pulled up to the sheriff's office, Libby begged him once again to remain silent about his daughter, but he wouldn't acknowledge her and seemed intent on doing things his way. Exasperated, she trailed him up the steps of the square wooden building, uncertain what he planned to do.

  Inside, two metal desks faced the entrance, the room empty of life. Toward the rear, a partition blocked the view to an extended area. A fan whirred in the background. The clock on the far wall ticked off the seconds, yet it seemed like minutes went by before a lean uniformed deputy with hair as wiry as a bristle brush came out from the back, picking between his lower front teeth with a thumbnail. He looked up, surprised. "Didn't know anyone was here. What can I do for you?"

  Libby stared at Kipp, pleading with her eyes to be cautious, but he kept his gaze on the young man. "I'm a photographer, and I was hoping to get some shots of the mountains."

  "Be our guest."

  "It looks to me like the best view would be from the hills across the highway, but the road is blocked with a locked gate."

  "You've been up that road?"

  "I was looking for a way up the hill."

  The sheriff, a puffy-faced, plain-looking man in jeans and cowboy boots, came out of the back room and stood next to the deputy. His deep penetrating eyes spurred Libby to take a step closer to Kipp and latch on to his arm.

  "These people want to take pictures of the peaks from up on the hills. They've already been up the road."

  The way the cowboy sheriff squinted at them, bunching the creases around his eyes, made Libby squeeze Kipp's arm in a warning attempt to get him to give up his foolish plan.

  "That's private property."

  "Maybe if I could talk to the owner, he'd let me--"

  "Mister, we don't like people messing around where they don't belong. You understand what I'm saying?"

  The muscles in Kipp's arm tensed. Libby dug her nails into his flesh, and he glanced at her for the first time since they'd entered the building.

  "We don't need those pictures, dear," she said to Kipp, then turned to the man. "My husband gets so carried away when he sees beauty like this. He likes to keep scrapbooks of pretty pictures when we go on trips. But we'll just get some postcards after all. By the way, does that restaurant in town have good food?"

  The deputy cracked a smile. "Yes, ma'am. Best in the county."

  "We'll be on our way then. Come on, honey." She pinched Kipp's bicep, but she couldn't help notice him and the sheriff exchanging stares like rams ready for combat. Once they were outside, she put her finger to her lips to warn Kipp not to say anything.

  Once they were in the Jeep, Kipp's face turned into a flaming torch. "Did you hear that S.O.B.? 'We don't like people messing around here.' What have they got to hide? I'm going to go up there and break the goddamned lock."

  Libby took his hand and held it to her face.

  Kipp's arm twitched, revealing his urge to draw it back, but her warmth calmed him. His muscles relaxed, and his anger subsided. He said in a much softer tone, "What are you doing?"

  "Getting your attention."

  "Now that you have it..."

  She lowered his hand into her lap. "Will you listen to me? Will you trust my judgment?"

  He stared at her, calmed but concerned.

  "We should leave and go back to Idaho Falls now."

  "Idaho Falls? We need to figure out what's going on here."

  "No one is going to let you do anything here," she said. "They know we're outsiders. They'll be watching us. We need to go back and regroup. Eat, sleep. We'll figure out something in the morning."

  "What if she's here? I can't leave her."

  "Please, Kipp. If you'll just take a breath and ask yourself what's the best thing to do, you'll know I'm right."

  Kipp sat silent, and she knew he was working her words through his logical mind. She was becoming accustomed to his behavior: react first, think later.

  He started the motor and pulled away from the building. "I guess we'll head out like you said." He turned right, toward their destination, finally giving Libby a reason to breathe easier.

  The sun had set behind the hills. Dusk was settling in.

  When they reached the highway, Kipp lingered at the stop sign longer than needed, glancing in the direction of the gravel road. Libby held her breath, hoping he wouldn't do anything rash. He turned in the right direction, but drove slowly at first, and she wondered if he might turn around and go back. But then he pressed on the gas.

  As soon as the Jeep began to accelerate, a car screamed up behind them, practically ramming their bumper, its high beams blasting the Jeep's interior. Just as Libby jerked around to have a look, the car with the anonymous driver swung into the oncoming lane and passed them at full speed, cutting in front of them, nearly clipping their front bumper and forcing them off the road. Kipp swerved onto the shoulder and came to an abrupt halt. Libby braced herself from smashing into the dashboard.

  "Sonova...We could have been hit."

  Libby leaned back with a heavy sigh.

  He reached over and touched her cheek. "Are you all right?" She nodded, and he said, "Did you get a look at the driver?"

  "It happened too fast, and I think the windows were tinted."

  Kipp checked the road behind them before pulling onto the highway and continuing up the hill at a slower pace. At the top of the incline he glanced over at Libby. "That wasn't a random shot, was it?"

  She knew the answer but wouldn't indulge in talking about it for fear of adding fuel to Kipp's burgeoning anger. He was spring-loaded for action. For the time being, she was just happy to be leaving the town with the mysterious, and incensed, residents.

  Following a sober drive back to Idaho Falls, she called Ellen. No one answered.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 22

  After Ellen left Charlie at the park, she treated herself to a movie, got a bite to eat, and shopped for a new dress. She felt like a young woman looking for a prom outfit. She hadn't been to dinner with a man, other than Mel, ever.

  She left the mall around eight-thirty and drove toward Libby's house with emotions ranging from giddiness to terror. Happy-go-lucky Ellen was having her first date in twenty years. By the time she parked the car, she settled on the fact that Charlie was easy to be with. If any guilt popped into her head, guilt because of her marital status, all she had to do was picture Mel with the scarecrow woman in her bed and the guilt just scuttled away.

  She stepped onto the porch, thinking about her date with Charlie and rummaging for her keys, then glanced up and froze. The door was halfway open. Trees hovered over the property, darkening Libby's area earlier than in town, and the house was dark inside.

  Ellen's first thought was she had forgotten to latch the door all the way, but she'd always been care
ful to make sure doors were latched shut. Her next thought was a burglar had entered, but there was no sign of a break in, no scrapes or splintered wood around the door jamb. She shuddered at the thought that followed.

  The subject of Libby's ex-husband had just surfaced in her conversation with Charlie. Libby's ex had not been seen in a while, but he used to be a cop and could be knowledgeable and resourceful when it came to such things as breaking and entering. She would not put it past him to come slinking around. Plus, a little way down the road she had seen an abandoned car.

  She began to hyperventilate. Afraid to proceed, she rushed to her car and locked the doors. She thought of Charlie.

  Libby said she could call him if she had any problems. She hated to bother him, but he was a law enforcement officer, after all. From her purse she retrieved her cell phone and address book and with a flashlight from the glove compartment she skimmed down and located his number.

  Within ten minutes a sheriff's cruiser, followed by a pick-up, drove up Libby's driveway. Ellen opened her door, but Charlie told to her to stay put, and he and the deputy disappeared inside. Soon the house was illuminated. She chewed at her nails until Charlie emerged and motioned for her to join them on the porch.

  "Everything looks okay," Charlie said. "Let's walk through, and you can tell us if everything is in place." He held on to her arm.

  His touch made her realize how unsteady she was, but she made a futile attempt at a smile. She led the way through each room. There were no signs of anything disturbed or taken, no signs of forced entry. When they returned to the front door, Charlie nodded to the deputy, and he left in the cruiser.

  "You could have forgotten to lock the door," Charlie said. "It's an easy mistake, especially when the house isn't yours and you aren't used to the feel of things."

  "I thought I did. I'm sorry I bothered you. I feel like an idiot, making you come all the way out here for nothing."

  "It's my job. And, hey, it's not nothing if it means you're safe."

  "You're quite a guy, Charlie. You called it in, didn't you?"

  "It's the county's jurisdiction, and I figured a deputy might get here before I could. Are you going to be okay here?"