by Karen Harper
So that day, had her abductor been waiting, standing still in the corn, and she ran toward him? Was he tracking her through the corn by where she moved the stalks? Should she have heard him as she heard Gabe now? Had someone driven past the house and heard or seen they were playing in the backyard and come into the field to take one of the girls—any one of them? Or had she been the target?
It had to be a random choice of victim, didn’t it? A crime of opportunity, as they called it? Or worse, had someone taken her because of something she’d done or who she was?
“Wait,” she said, turning back to Gabe. “I’m going to stoop down, like it would have looked to me then.”
“Missing, four-year-old Teresa Lockwood, blond hair in a single, long braid, wearing denim jeans and a yellow sweatshirt,” Gabe recited. “That was the wording on your missing-child posters. Pink plastic Princess Leia watch on left wrist. Blue-eyed, weight thirty-six pounds, height three and one-half feet.”
She shivered. This memory probe might be as important to him as it was to her. She crouched a bit, her back to Gabe, staring up through the corn at the vast sky....
She heard the monster sound from decades of dreams. A muted roar, this time, not so close—but real! She stood, turned and threw herself against Gabe, holding tight. His arms came hard around her.
“What?” he demanded. “Tell me!”
“That’s the sound. The monster!” she told him, blinking back tears. “Hear that?”
“Tess, it’s only Aaron Kurtz’s big harvester—his reaper. He’s in the field beyond my house. He won’t come roaring through here now, so—”
“No, I mean I heard that sound in this field that day!”
He held her tight. “And it scared you, and you ran farther from the house? Maybe toward Dane Thompson’s or the side road?”
“The reaper—in my dreams, I turned it into a dinosaur or some sort of monster. But the reaper cutting in this field that day was louder. I think he sat so high in the cab that I saw his head go past. Yes, I do recall that now.”
“My father questioned him, but he said he saw nothing unusual. You don’t mean that he took you?”
“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I must have ducked down, or got pulled down when he went past. When I screamed—more than the one time you mentioned—no one could hear me. Then I was too scared to scream at all. But I dreamed a warped memory of that for years, a big monster cutting and chopping me apart and taking me away.”
“Away to where? Which way?”
She pulled from his grasp and looked around. She turned in a circle, again, again, trying to figure it out, until she got dizzy and Gabe grabbed her elbows to hold her up. She slapped her hand to the side of her neck as if something had bitten her there.
“I...I just don’t know. Gabe, I still just don’t know!”
9
Tess had just closed the curtains over the window facing the cornfield when someone knocked on her front door. Dusk had fallen. Gabe couldn’t be back already. Besides, he used the back door.
Peeking out the front porch window, she saw a pretty, red-haired woman she did not recognize. Alone. She didn’t look like a reporter. Her blue-green sports car was parked far down the driveway. Maybe she was lost. Tess opened only the inside door and kept the storm door locked.
“May I help you?”
“If you’re Tess Lockwood, yes. I’m here to inquire about buying your house. I’m Erika Petersen, the social director at the Lake Azure Community Lodge. I drive back and forth to Chillicothe every day and I’d like a closer place.”
Tess’s stomach cartwheeled. To sell this place and be able to buy her own back in Michigan was just what she’d hoped for.
“Yes, won’t you come in?” She unlocked the outer door for the woman. Erika brought a waft of scented powder with her that made Tess want to sneeze. When Erika took off her suede jacket, her emerald-green cashmere sweater was stunning. Her knee-high boots were fringed, just as Marian Bell’s had been. This woman must be in her late forties, but her cosmetics were so carefully and subtly applied she looked years younger. She wore a big rock of a diamond ring next to her wedding band.
“Have you seen our Lake Azure area? So lovely there,” Erika said as her eyes scanned the room before she sat in the rocking chair Tess indicated.
“Just to drive through. It was barely begun when I left the area. I suppose you know why my family left?”
“Yes. As I’m a friend of Marian Bell’s, I can totally empathize and sympathize with what you and your family went through.”
Tess doubted that, but at least this woman seemed reasonable, not distraught like Marian. And she was interested in the house.
Erika went on, “I don’t mind the daily commute to Chillicothe when the weather’s nice, but now that it’s autumn again I’ve finally talked my husband into letting me get a place nearby just for the weekdays, when I’m here—social director at the lodge, great job, demanding...”
This was the woman, Tess thought, biting back a smile, Miss Etta didn’t like because she ran book clubs that competed with the Cold Creek Library. Clubs, as the longtime librarian put it, where people got their books “out of the air.”
“I’m sure that career keeps you busy and on your toes,” Tess said.
“Oh, it does. Even though I have an assistant, there are a lot of weekends I need to be here too. I’d fix this place up, of course, my country pied-à-terre....”
Tess noted that, for a woman who worked with people all the time, Erika didn’t look her directly in the eye. Her gaze darted around the room, but she probably wanted a tour of the house or was already imagining how she’d decorate it. Erika also had a habit of dropping her voice at the end of a sentence as if there were more to say, but it was a secret.
“May I give you a tour?” Tess asked.
“Oh, yes—but let’s schedule that for another time, and I’ll bring a friend with me. I need to head home. Promised I’d meet my husband for dinner at seven. There is something I need to tell you up front, a couple of things. I have a financial backer of sorts and it’s not my husband. If you sell this property to me—for a very healthy price, I promise, cash up front—you would need to meet in private and in confidence with my friend Marian Bell to help her find her daughter.”
Tess’s hopes crashed. She almost burst into tears. Marian Bell was behind this and had sent a go-between this time. The bait was Marian’s money. And the “in confidence” part of the bargain was, no doubt, to go behind Gabe’s back. Why couldn’t people believe she was telling the truth about not recalling her childhood trauma?
“Please tell Ms. Bell,” Tess said, “that I would love to sell but not with strings attached, especially ones tied in knots. I do not recall my abduction details, my captivity or my captor. As you put it, I sympathize and empathize, but I cannot help her as she wishes, even for a bribe I would love to take.”
Erika’s back stiffened. “A bribe? Hardly that! Marian is kind enough to help me buy this house, that’s all.”
“Then, until either of you buys it straight-out with no hidden agenda,” Tess said, standing, “tell her I’m so sorry about Amanda, but that’s all I can offer her.”
Erika didn’t even put her jacket back on, grabbing it from the back of her chair and walking out. Had Gabe gotten a restraining order against Marian for bothering Tess so she had to send her friend? God forgive her, but it had entered Tess’s mind that a few lies to Marian could help Tess have her dream and get out of here for good, but think how much damage that would do. No, she had to stay here longer to help Gabe, maybe even help find Amanda, Jill and Sandy.
As Erika’s car roared off down the road—how could that small thing make so much noise?—Tess saw a vehicle she did recognize. The old white square truck marked CC Library Bookmobile pulled into her drive.
Th
ough she was wiping away tears of disappointment, Tess almost smiled. It looked as if Miss Etta Falls had been stalking her book club competition.
“Miss Etta,” she called, going out to meet her. “Do you know who that was?”
“By her license plate, CLBQN,” she said with a nod and a sniff.
“What’s that stand for?”
“Club Queen. Oh, I’ve had more than one discussion with that woman when she came in to see if we had the latest books—without a library card of her own. Not always the latest, but the greatest books, I told her.”
“She was considering buying the house, but I turned down her offer.”
“Good for you. You see I haven’t changed the bookmobile one bit, don’t you? Does it bring back memories of reading with your mother and sisters? Your father, I think, was interested in other things,” she said with another sniff.
“Yes, I have those memories, at least.”
“Well, I came by with several books I thought you might like. Can’t say ‘enjoy,’ but they might help you. Not to recall the past, but just to cope with the present.”
She pulled a book bag from the back of the van, slammed its door and started for the house. Tess, touched but hesitant to take on any books, followed. No one ever crossed Miss Etta, in the library or out.
“Now, these are books you can skim-read until something strikes you as helpful or personal,” Miss Etta was saying as Tess held the door open for her. “Oh, my, bare bones in here, so you will have time to read—no need to be fussing with other things. And a rocking chair is the perfect place, right by a window.”
Tess sat, feeling she was the preschool child and Miss Etta the teacher. The woman hauled out three books and gave a little summary of each, and as she spoke, Tess became more interested. One was Too Scared to Cry, another Psychic Trauma in Childhood, both by a woman psychiatrist. The third was Unchained Memories: True Stories of Traumatic Memories Lost and Found.
“If any of these help you—bounce something loose in that sharp brain of yours—you let me know. I’ve read all of these, just out of interest. So, if you need advice, I could talk you through some things, maybe go with you to the sheriff. You are working with him, aren’t you?”
“I’d like to but I really can’t help much.”
“Well, don’t fret. That specialist he has here from the BCI will find the girls, if they are to be found. And steer clear of Dane Thompson,” she added as she got to her feet and picked up the now empty book bag. “He reads true crime,” she said in a whisper. “And that cemetery of his is an abomination. Oh, here in the bottom of the bag—your temporary library card. I know you don’t intend to stay long, so just bring that back with the books. I am sure you’ll be more amenable to thinking about your situation than your cousin Lee and his wife were about theirs,” she added with a shake of her head.
Tess waved to her from the front porch as the spry woman climbed up into the van, honked and drove away. One of the taillights on the old vehicle was out. She wondered if Gabe would ever dare to pull Miss Etta over for that.
At least some things never changed around here—good things—Tess thought. Maybe she’d take a look at those books. And Miss Etta’s mentioning Lee and Gracie made her remember she still hadn’t taken their kids the gifts she’d brought. First thing in the morning she was heading for the Hear Ye Commune. Seeing her cousin’s family would cheer her up, after getting her hopes dashed for the sale of the house. And she’d have to tell Gabe about that.
* * *
Tess was surprised she had to wait in an anteroom at the Hear Ye compound to see if Gracie, Lee or the children were available. After about a quarter of an hour—she was getting bad vibes about this place—Gracie came in with Kelsey and Ethan. Four-year-old Kelsey, her blond braid bobbing, ran to give Tess a hug, but Ethan hung back until Gracie brought him over for hugs all around. It was only after chatting with the kids and reaching for the gift sack that Tess saw another woman had come in behind them and stood by the door. She was tall and big-boned. Her arms were crossed over her breasts.
“Oh, hello,” Tess said, wondering if the woman could be a preschool teacher here. If so, she had a much too serious expression to encourage kids.
“Forgot to tell you,” Gracie said. “This is Naomi, a friend. Since you mentioned you have personal presents for Kelsey and Ethan, she’ll help distribute them.”
“To whom? I brought gifts for them.”
“To the others—their friends. I’m sure you teach your pupils to share, and we’re real big on that here. You know, Give unto others.”
“I suppose the LEGOs could go far, but a doll—”
“A doll is wonderful,” Naomi cut in, “to teach all the young sisters to care for others.”
To Tess’s further amazement and unease, even before she could lift the gifts from the sack, Gracie took it and handed it to Naomi.
“The children have to head back to school now,” Gracie said, twisting the bottom of her denim jacket in her hands. Except for that, she wore the same style of dress as Naomi, though they were in different dark colors.
“Back to school? Preschool? But I just got here,” Tess insisted. “Well, can I see their schoolroom, then?”
“Sorry,” Gracie said, and rolled her eyes, either in an effort to subtly criticize Naomi and this place, or—was that some sort of warning? But about what? To agree to this? To back off?
Tess kneeled again to hug the children goodbye. It wasn’t her imagination that Kelsey clung to her. The little girl no doubt recalled earlier gifts, the phone calls and recent visit for Mom’s funeral. Maybe she’d even been told about or seen photos of the earlier visits to Michigan before Lee got completely swept up by all this.
“Don’t worry about us—or think about us anymore. We’re fine. Just fine,” Gracie whispered, and, pulling Ethan along, followed the others out. Hurt and shocked, Tess stood there with tears in her eyes. They had left the door open as if she was to find her own way out.
As she strode from the room, down the hall she’d come in, she almost felt as if Kelsey and little Ethan—even Gracie—had been abducted. Her sadness mingled with sharp anger. Was that what the families of the victims of the Cold Creek kidnapper felt too? She could not recall her emotions when she was taken besides feeling so very lost.
Once she was outside, Tess saw she was being watched. The man at the gate who had let her in was still standing there, staring at her as she walked toward her car.
A scream pierced the air, carried on the chill wind. A woman’s? A girl’s? Where? Could that be Gracie, screaming for her to come back? Someone in pain or in trouble?
It came again, shrill, sudden. Tess turned back and started to run in the direction of the sound. She heard the man at the gate running after her. What if these strange people took in extra children by force? What if Gracie’s rolling her eyes like that was some sort of signal? What if a woman or a child, maybe a young girl, kidnapped and new to this place, one who had not yet been brainwashed, was screaming for help?
“Wait! Hold it right there!” the man behind her shouted, but she kept going.
She heard no more screams, but she could see the building they must have come from. If she discovered an imprisoned child, wouldn’t that put her in danger too? Maybe she should get Gabe’s help, come back. But what if they had hidden or hurt the child by then?
This religious compound had not even been here when Tess was taken, though their leader, Brice Monson, had had a house here twenty years ago. She couldn’t recall much about him, except people thought he was weird. Had they ever looked at him as a possibility for the kidnapper? He seemed to take people in by seducing them mentally, not taking them physically.
The guard snagged her arm and spun her around.
“Let me go! I heard someone scream!”
He released her but b
locked her way toward the house. “I know who you are,” he said, not yelling, but in a quiet, controlled tone she had not expected. “I’m Brother Silas. I can see why you’d react, but some children protest at first when disciplined.”
“Disciplined? She sounded like...like she was being tortured.”
“Look, this is none of your business. Chastisement is the only way to correct a wayward child, and it will deliver his or her soul from hell.”
Were they crazy here? Her own cousin Lee and her dear friend Gracie? As if she’d summoned him, Lee came running.
“Sorry, I was busy when you met with Grace and the kids,” he told her. He was out of breath; his face was red. “And don’t get all upset,” he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and propelling her away from Silas and back toward the gate. “That child has stolen things, and she was spanked by her own father.”
Tess pulled away. “In front of others, to keep them in line?”
“Only in the presence of Bright Star, our leader and guide.”
“Did she supposedly steal things that maybe once were given to her and taken away by everyone else?” Tess challenged, hands on her hips. Even if Silas and Lee had spoken softly, she was still shouting.
“Tess, listen to me. It’s a good lesson, sharing. Caring for others. If we let kids run wild, they turn out wild.”
Blinking back tears, Tess headed back toward her car. The gate guard had backed off. It was almost as if Lee was her guard now. And, curse it, she was going to tell Gabe about this and come back here. After all, Lee wanted her help with dowsing. Of course, if she told Gabe everything—anything about today—he might not let her return. He and Vic Reingold might come in here with force, and the Hear Ye people might hide or punish her family—and maybe Sandy Kenton, if they had her.
“Okay,” she said to Lee. “You’re right about discipline for kids. Sorry I overreacted.”
“Sure. I understand your protective instincts—being a preschool teacher and all. So, can you help me with the dowsing while you’re here? The site is that knoll over there above the creek,” he said, pointing. “We can use my willow wand.”
