Dark Powers

by Rebecca York

  “You’re not responsible for their deaths.”

  “I saw that some of the guests might go too far if given the chance.”

  “But you couldn’t know for sure.”

  “Not for sure.”

  “And if you’d interfered, what would have happened?”

  He heaved in a breath and let it out. “I could have been executed.”

  “So you used your best judgment—in order to save a lot more lives.” She kept her gaze fixed on him. “The operation’s shut down, right? Thanks to you.”

  He shrugged.

  “It’s like in a war,” she continued. “You had to make some hard choices, but you don’t have to keep punishing yourself for what happened on the ship.”

  “You weren’t there,” he clipped out.

  “Right. I’m here. Feeling guilty about letting my sister down by not coming back to Doncaster. And the only way I can wipe out that guilt is to find out what happened to her.”

  “And if we can’t?”

  “I’m not giving in to that possibility. Not yet.”

  “You may have to face it.”

  She gave Ben a steady look. “Not until I give it everything I’ve got. Starting with confronting my mother.”

  “All right, but do you think she’s going to tell us anything?”

  “I hope so.”

  oOo

  As they drove in silence to her mom’s house, Sage slid him a sidewise glance, seeing the grim set of his jaw.

  She knew he’d been trying to shock her by talking about his experiences on that ship, the Windward. She was shocked, but what he’d said had given her some important insights. He’d been deeply affected by the months he’d spent on that ship. He’d done things he considered immoral. Ironically, she knew it was because of his strong sense of morality.

  The first thing Sage noticed when they arrived at Angel Baker’s house was that her car was missing from the driveway, and when Sage knocked, there was no answer.

  “She could be at work,” Ben said.

  “She could be, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  She unlocked the door and they both went in.

  “Mom,” Sage called.

  There was no answer.

  “Mom?”

  As they both started moving rapidly through the house, Sage’s heart was in her throat. She kept picturing herself stumbling over her mother’s body, but when she got to the master bedroom, she stopped short. The closet door and some dresser drawers were open. And the suitcase that Angel kept under the bed was missing.

  Sage breathed out a sigh. Now that her worst fears hadn’t come to pass, she felt her anger rising. “She’s gone.”

  “And taken some clothing,” Ben said. “Unlike Laurel who had plans to come back home.”

  “Where do you think she went?” Sage asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m guessing somebody paid her to get out of town for a while.”

  “But why?”

  “If your mom’s not here, she can’t give us any information.”

  Sage worried her bottom lip. “But somebody could have killed her and made it look like she left town.”

  Ben looked around, then peered out the window. “Maybe the neighbors saw something.”

  They left the house and went next door. When nobody answered, they crossed the street to Mrs. Hartley’s house.

  Sage remembered that the old widow had liked to keep track of what was happening in the neighborhood.

  Mrs. Hartley answered the door quickly, as though she’d been looking outside and knew they were coming. She was a short, dumpy woman in her late seventies, with thinning hair and wrinkled skin. She was wearing a shapeless housedress.

  “Why, Sage, it’s good to see you,” she said.

  “Good to see you, too.” Sage cleared her throat. “Mom’s not home. Did you happen to see her leave?”

  “Well, she had a visitor early in the morning. Then she left about an hour later, carrying a suitcase.”

  “A visitor? Did you see who it was?”

  “A man. But he had his cap pulled down over his face.”

  “It wasn’t the police chief, was it?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t think so. He looked much more fit.”

  “What kind of car was he driving?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t know much about cars. It was big and expensive looking.”

  “Can you tell me anything else?”

  “I’m sorry. And sorry to hear the rumors about your sister too.”

  “What rumors?” Sage asked.

  “That she had a fight with your mom and ran away.”

  “We’re not sure that she did.”

  The woman made a tsking sound. “It didn’t make sense to me. Not that girl. She was too motivated to do something stupid. I hope you find out what happened to her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Hartley closed the door, and they walked back to Ben’s car. As Ben climbed behind the wheel, he said, “It sounds like Angel was paid to leave.”

  Sage dragged in a breath and let it out. “I guess that’s right.”

  “I’ll see if Teddy can get a lead on her.”

  “How?”

  “If she used her credit card, the transaction will show up.”

  “Okay. But let me leave her a note, just in case.”

  Sage went back into the house and scribbled a message, asking her mother to call. That was the best she could do for the time being.

  When she came back to the car, she said, “I was all charged up to talk to Mom. Now what?”

  “Before that guy knocked you into the water, I was going to suggest we go to that boarding house—Mrs. Borden’s—where the other girls lived.”

  “You think they can tell us anything?”

  “All we can do is try. Do you know where the boarding house is?” he asked.

  “Yes. Like the Crab Shack, it’s been around for a long time.”

  They headed for a part of town where many of the older homes had been turned into various businesses.

  As they drew near the boarding house, they passed a beauty supply company, a lawnmower and bike repair shop, and a business that distributed cardboard boxes.

  “Not the upscale side of town,” Ben said.

  “The neighborhood’s changed.”

  But Mrs. Borden’s large Victorian house was still functioning as a residence, although the rooms had probably been divided up into much smaller units.

  Sage gave the property an appraising look. The exterior needed painting, but the old hydrangeas, rosebushes, and crepe myrtle were well tended, and the grass was neatly mowed.

  A small sign on the lawn advertised, “Borden’s Rooms—Vacancy.”

  As they pulled up out front, she turned to Ben. “I let you do the talking with Chief Judd, but in this place maybe it would be more effective for me to appeal to Mrs. Borden.”

  “That’s probably right,” he conceded, and she was glad that he wasn’t going to put up an argument.

  Two young women were relaxing in molded plastic chairs on the porch. Sage saw that one of them was Sonja, their waitress from the night before.

  The Czech woman looked up as they climbed the wraparound front porch and approached the front door.

  “We’re still trying to get some information that would help us find my sister,” Sage explained.

  “She didn’t live here,” Sonja replied.

  “No, she lived in town with our mom. But there are two other girls we’d like to ask about. Magdalina Sawicki and Andrea Dvorak.”

  “I knew Magdalina,” Sonja murmured. “She was here for a little while when I first came. She was nice. She—how do you say it— showed me the ropes.”

  Ben had already rung the bell, and before Sage could ask Sonja another question, Mrs. Borden came to the door. She was a short, plump lady with gray hair braided and fixed in a circle around the top of her head. She was wearing a flowered dress under a white apron.

&
nbsp; “Mrs. Borden?”

  The woman glanced from Sage to Ben and back again. “I’m sorry. I don’t rent to couples, only single women. It makes things a lot easier.”

  “We’re not looking for a room,” Sage said quickly. “I’m hoping for some information that could help me find my sister, Laurel Baker. I’m Sage Arnold. And this is Ben Walker who’s helping me look for her.”

  The woman kept her gaze on them. “Your sister wouldn’t have rented a room here. The girls I get are all from foreign countries.”

  “I know that. But Laurel disappeared after work at the Crab Shack a couple of days ago, and I know a lot of the women who work there also live here.”

  Acknowledgment bloomed in Mrs. Borden’s eyes. “Yes, the girls were talking about it.”

  “We know that two other women who did live here also disappeared. Magdalina Sawicki and Andrea Dvorak.”

  Mrs. Borden looked troubled. “Yes, that’s right. But Andrea was like a year ago. Magdalina was here more recently, though.”

  Sage nodded.

  “It was strange the way Magdalina just up and disappeared. She left her things here. And she left owing rent,” the woman added.

  “Would it be possible for us to look through her things?” Sage asked.

  Mrs. Borden hesitated. “Well, I don’t know.”

  “We’d be very grateful.”

  “Oh, I suppose it’s all right. I put everything into a couple of boxes. They’re out back.” She stepped aside, and they followed her through the house. Sage glanced around as they passed. There were two sitting rooms, each with a bulky television set and comfortable but old sofas and chairs. The dining room had a long wooden table, and the kitchen looked like it had been updated in the seventies. In the sink was a colander with fresh salad greens. And a large pot was boiling on the stove, making the room fragrant with vegetables and meat.

  “That smells good,” Ben said, his first words since they’d encountered the innkeeper.

  “Vegetable soup. It’s hearty and nourishing. The girls love it. Most of them work in restaurants in town. We have an early meal so they can work the dinner shifts.”

  “And it looks like you’ve given them a comfortable place to live,” Sage added. “How many women do you usually have?”

  “Ten or twelve. I can squeeze in fifteen if they’re willing to share a room.”

  They exited through the kitchen door into the backyard and across to a detached double garage. Cardboard cartons were neatly stacked on shelves along both walls. Several bikes leaned against a sidewall.

  Mrs. Borden walked along with them, reading the labels.

  “Here we go,” she said, taking down a couple of boxes and setting them on a table at the back. “I still have work to do fixing dinner. Please put everything back neatly. Magdalina might come back for her things,” she added, although her voice lacked conviction.

  oOo

  Ben watched the innkeeper leave the garage. When they were alone again, he and Sage each began looking through the contents of a container.

  Sage glanced at Ben as he sorted through blouses and skirts.

  “Are you getting any impressions from touching her stuff?” she asked.

  “You mean psychic impressions?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a medium. I don’t find out anything from handling people’s possessions—except maybe that they should have washed their clothes.”

  She answered with a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I was just hoping.” A few moments later, she pulled out a carved wooden box and opened it. Inside were several rings and a gold necklace. “Look at this. I’m sure she wouldn’t have left this stuff here.” She showed the jewelry to Ben.

  “Not unless she cleared out in a hurry.”

  He pulled out a cardboard folder that contained a number of pictures of a dark-haired girl, most of them with several other people. As he thumbed through the contents, he said, “Here she is with what appears to be her family.”

  Sage felt her stomach knot as she looked at the photo of the girl standing with an older man and woman and two younger boys. “It looks like she was their oldest child.”

  Ben nodded.

  “I guess they never found out what happened to her. That’s so sad. She was far away from home, and she just vanished.”

  Ben wanted to say they wouldn’t let that happen with Laurel, but he didn’t know if he’d be speaking the truth.

  Going back to the box, he found a brightly colored dress with the tags still attached. When he found two more, he held them up. “It looks like she bought some new things after she arrived.”

  “She never got to wear them. What happened to her?”

  “That’s the question.”

  As they were putting Magdalina’s possessions back into the boxes, the side door of the garage opened, and Sonja looked over her shoulder before stepping in.

  She crossed to them.

  “I said outside that Magdalina showed me the ropes. Really, we were kind of friends.”

  “Did she date anyone?” Sage asked.

  “She dated some guys from town. Nothing serious. She did tell me once that she’d had a bad experience, but she wouldn’t say any more.” Sonja lowered her voice. “We don’t talk about it in public, but we’re all afraid, you know. We’re all like your sister. She was—what do you say—a good kid.”

  “And my mom really did come to the restaurant and yell at her in front of everyone?”

  “Yes. When your sister disappeared, we all talked about it. We wondered if it had something to do with that fight.”

  “Did you think of anything that might help me find her?”

  “I’m sorry. We don’t know anything more about it. Not really.” She looked over her shoulder again. “None of us wants to get into trouble and get sent home.”

  “I understand. Thank you for coming out here,” Sage said again.

  When Sonja left, Sage looked at Ben. “Can we ask in town about guys Magdalina might have dated?”

  “That’s pretty much old news.”

  “What about guys my sister dated?”

  “That could be more productive. But where would we start? The bar scene?”

  “I’d say with my mom, if she hadn’t skipped town.” She stopped short, then started again. “With everything else that’s happened, I forgot to tell you. I talked to one of Laurel’s professors, and at least in his class, she wasn’t having any problems in school.”

  They put the remaining items back in the boxes and went back to thank Mrs. Borden.

  “Did you find anything helpful?” she asked.

  “Only that she left things she wouldn’t have abandoned,” Ben answered.

  “That’s what I thought,” the innkeeper said.

  After the brief conversation, they exited the house for Ben’s car. He hesitated as he sat behind the wheel.

  “You thought of something else?” Sage asked.

  “I’m not sure.” He started the engine and headed back the way they’d come, watching as a small Japanese car passed them. He didn’t recognize the driver.

  “I told you I wasn’t a medium and I didn’t get impressions from people’s possessions, but I’m having the strong feeling that we shouldn’t head right back to town.”

  “Where should we go?”

  He turned onto a side road that paralleled the river. “I don’t know. I just can’t shake the feeling that we should drive down this way.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ben kept driving slowly, checking out the scenery on the left and right. On the river side of the road, he spotted a long field filled with weeds and small, scraggly trees. In the center was a large, sagging wooden building.

  “What do you think that is?” he asked.

  “It’s on the river,” Sage answered. “Maybe it’s an old warehouse—or a crab shucking plant. They used to do that by hand around here.”

  Another car passed him, capturing his attention for a moment. Not th
e Japanese car he’d seen earlier. And not a blue pickup or a black sedan. It sped past as though the driver were annoyed that Ben had slowed down to look at the old building.

  The structure was surrounded by a high chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Parts of the weathered wooden siding were missing and also the roof, letting in shafts of sunlight that rippled as he passed. When a flash of bright color caught the edge of Ben’s vision, he braked.

  “What is it?” Sage asked.

  “I saw something in there.”

  She craned her neck toward the structure as he backed up, then drove slowly past, pointing toward one of the gaps in the wall. Inside was a bright splash of color that looked a lot like the dresses he’d held up in the garage.

  As Sage followed where he was pointing, she sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you think . . .?” She let her voice trail off. “I mean, how could it have anything to do with Magdalina?”

  “I don’t know, but I want to have a look.”

  She tipped her head as she looked at him. “What led you here?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t explain it.” Turning to her, he said, “Wait for me.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He eyed the old building. “This place looks like it’s ready to fall down. Going in there is a risk. Not to mention we’d be trespassing,” he added as he pointed to signs fixed to the fence at intervals.

  “If you’re going in there, I will too.”

  They got out of the car, and he locked the doors before glancing at the rural mailbox along the road. Faded numbers said 717.

  “What road is this?” he asked Sage.

  “South Town Road.”

  “Okay. 717 South Town Road.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “It might.”

  He started across the field toward the fence. The open space was not only filled with weeds but also trash and broken glass. When Sage caught her foot in a plastic bag and almost tripped, he took her arm to steady her and kept his hold on her as they continued toward the structure.

  They reached the fence, which was in better shape than the building beyond.

  She glanced up at the evil-looking razor wire. “This place is falling down. Why put up a fence?”

  “Maybe so nobody gets hurt in there.” He followed her gaze. “I don’t think we’re going to be climbing over.”