Something was up.
But as he began to go over the possibilities, she took a tentative step forward and stopped. Her hands had begun to reach out for him but now they grasped each other in front of her.
“What?” he asked quietly.
Her eyebrows arched briefly and she managed a little smile but it quickly faded. She glanced at the answering machine, causing him to look at it as well, and then she stared at the floor between them.
“I…um…” she tilted her head one way and then the other, as though something there worried her. She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I saw Kayla today,” she said, finally looking at him.
Why did seeing Kayla bother her so much? Had it been the old boyfriend?
“What happened?”
The whole story came pouring out: Susan, Kayla, and Daniel–who was dead; the commune; the pregnancy. Isabelle had begun pacing almost immediately. But as he was undoing his tie, she mentioned the children–all of them fathered by Geoffrey.
Mac stopped with the two ends of his tie in each hand.
“The one man?” Mac asked.
Isabelle nodded.
“I mean, I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Isabelle said, shaking her head. “All of those women. It’s just so weird.”
“Not really,” Mac said, taking off the tie and tossing it onto the couch, followed by his coat. “What did you say this place was called?”
“GreenEarthCommune.org.”
Mac looked it up on his phone. The web site was slick, with a blog, a way to donate money, directions to the commune, and photographs of Geoffrey picking tomatoes.
“The digital front end is slick but this is a cult.”
It was something that the Behavioral Science Unit in Quantico dealt with regularly.
“A cult?”
“By any other name,” he said nodding as he passed her the phone. “From what you describe, Geoffrey is the charismatic leader. If Kayla knows he’s fathering all the children, they all know. And that’s okay with them. In fact, it’s more than okay.”
“A cult?” Isabelle repeated. “But Kayla isn’t some weak-minded fool. She’d never fall for something like that.”
“Cult members aren’t weak-minded,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re recruited. With sophisticated techniques.” He nodded at the phone. “With magnetic charm. With infinite patience. With a tradeoff of value to the prospective member.”
Isabelle frowned, looking at the web site.
“Such as?” she said, showing him the screen with a picture of baskets full of just-picked corn. “Health food?”
“Simplicity,” he said. “A life of no worries. Everything is taken care of. Every decision. Every need you might have, physical and emotional. Support from a community of people like yourself. The more it grows, the more legitimate it seems.” Isabelle gave him his phone. “They’re all young,” he continued, the profiler’s brain fully engaged. “And I’ll bet they had no interest in Susan whatsoever.” Isabelle looked up at him as though he’d read her mind. “More than likely, they all joined in a time of stressful transition. Maybe when they separated from their families.”
“Or found out they were pregnant,” Isabelle said quietly. “That’s really why Kayla’s afraid. Her child isn’t Geoffrey’s. It’s Daniel’s.”
“Well,” Mac said. “It’s good that she wants to leave. The real problem is when they don’t want to leave and their families can’t convince them. It doesn’t sound like that’s an issue.”
“No,” Isabelle said. He could already see the gears turning behind her eyes. “I know there’s a dormitory somewhere and I know she works in the kitchen.” She focused on Mac. “I’m not sure Susan should go.”
“No,” Mac said. “Not if you don’t want to make waves. And, unfortunately, neither should I. I doubt you saw many men there.”
“Not many.”
“He doesn’t want the competition. Only the true sycophants are welcome to stay. They’re the ones you really need to watch out for.” He gazed down at the web site on his phone. “I’ll look into this GreenEarthCommune.org from the Bureau side.”
“Really?” Isabelle said, smiling, really smiling, for the first time since he’d got home.
Mac paused at the thought.
That’s exactly what it feels like. Coming home.
He returned his focus to the commune.
“Approach her in a public place,” he said. “Obey the rules. Act just as you did today. You shouldn’t have a problem.”
“The only problem today was Susan,” Isabelle said. She nodded to herself. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t know how Kayla got mixed up with all this but nobody said a word about her not leaving. My reading said she was worried about the father of her baby not being Geoffrey. Nothing else. So,” Isabelle said stepping closer to him, looking more relaxed. “I’m sure you’re right.”
For a moment, she just gazed into his eyes and then she took his hands in hers, smiling. He’d just been about to wrap his arms around her when her question stopped him.
“So, what did you do today?”
• • • • •
“I applied for a transfer to L.A.,” Mac said. As surprised as Isabelle felt, Mac’s face looked shocked. “I was going to wait until it was approved before I told you.” He paused and looked down at her gloved hand in his. “But I don’t think that’s going to fly.”
The words took a moment to sink in.
Transfer.
To L.A.?
“Transfer,” she repeated. “You mean permanently?”
Mac nodded.
“Like living here? In L.A.?”
Mac nodded again. Her mind raced to grasp what he was saying.
No more long distance calls to Virginia?
“I didn’t want to say anything before it was approved,” he said. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.” He stooped to look directly into her face and she realized she’d been staring at his chest. She blinked once and then twice. “Isabelle?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Say something.”
But she couldn’t.
Instead, she jumped into his arms and hugged him fiercely around the neck.
“Mac!” she said, ready to burst. “Mac!”
He closed his big arms around her and picked her up.
“I’ll take that to mean you’re happy,” he said against her neck.
“Yes!” she said. “Yes!”
For several moments, he held her like that and Isabelle was sure that, if he hadn’t, she’d have floated away. Slowly, he set her down.
“And,” he said quietly. “Since I’m on a roll…”
“What?” she said smiling up at him.
What more could there possibly be?
“I thought,” he said, his blue-green eyes staring intently into hers. “I thought we’d move in together. That I would move in here.”
Here.
She glanced around her apartment.
Wait. Here?
But…her gift, the constant readings, the years it’d taken to make her apartment nearly reading-free.
“Okay,” Mac said quietly. “The roll has stopped.” He paused and watched her face. “I thought you might be happy about that.”
“No!” Isabelle said, tightening her grip around his neck. “I am. It’s just that…” He cocked his head at her, waiting. “Well, I don’t know,” she said, fumbling for words. Finally, she said the only thing she could think of. “I don’t know what to say.”
Mac gave her a little smile but he was obviously disappointed.
“Fair enough,” he said. “I know it’s a surprise.”
Mac living here. She stared hard into his gorgeous eyes. It was wonderful to have him close. Every time they’d said good-bye had been agony. The days without him had been empty. And now he was saying that would end.
But could it really work?
Because, if it didn’t…there was no going back. You don’t just s
top living with someone. You end the relationship.
Mac was the best thing that’d ever happened to her. She wouldn’t lose him. She couldn’t.
She glanced at the answering machine.
‘It’s not going to end well.’
Dread welled up inside her so fast that she sucked in a breath.
“Hey,” Mac said. “It doesn’t have to be.” She realized she’d been staring at the machine and looked up into his face. His eyes searched hers, back and forth, as his eyebrows knit together furiously. He gently pulled her into a hug. “Okay, enough,” he said quietly. He cradled her head against his chest. “We don’t have to talk about this now. I don’t even know if I’ll get the transfer.”
He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. She hugged him tightly in return, not sure she could trust her voice. For several moments, he seemed content just to hold her and she took in a long, shuddering breath. As he finally released his hold and backed up, Isabelle prepared herself for whatever his reaction might be. Disappointment? Frustration? Maybe even anger? That’s how it’d been with relationships in the past. Was this the end that she had been dreading all this time? But as she chanced a look into his face, all she saw was the usual Mac: the hint of a smile curving his lips, his eyes alight as though from within, his square jaw tilted down to her.
“There’s just one more thing,” he said. “Did I mention I brought dinner?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As though he’d been waiting for her, Geoffrey was nearly at the gate by the time Isabelle got out of the car.
“Isabelle!” he said, the delight in his voice sounding so sincere that she had to remind herself he’d fathered all the children she could see behind him. “I’m so glad to see you again.” He held out his hand to her and, though the thought of touching him made her shiver, she held out her hand and he quickly took it in a gentle grasp between both of his. “Our visit yesterday ended so…abruptly.” He checked the car behind her. “I see you’re alone today.”
“Susan didn’t want to come,” Isabelle lied, as Geoffrey immediately led her along the gravel path.
In fact, it’d taken Isabelle at least thirty minutes to calm Susan down over the phone and another fifteen when she’d picked up her car. Only meeting Mac, who’d dropped her off, had convinced Susan to stay behind.
At the thought of him, Isabelle felt a tightening in her chest. After dinner, the rest of the night had been quiet–a little too quiet. Though Mac had talked about his interview, he’d never tried to touch her. They’d gone to bed without making love.
It wasn’t a first but it was unusual.
And it felt wrong.
All night she’d wondered what was going through his mind. Yet again, she’d thought about doing a reading and had to force the idea away.
Geoffrey walked as close to her as he possibly could.
“I think it’s probably for the best that you’re on your own,” Geoffrey said, sounding completely understanding. “Perhaps we can pick up where we left off?”
Isabelle noticed a man at the back entrance to the house who quickly disappeared. Probably security. He’d realized that Susan hadn’t returned. But what really held Isabelle’s attention were the children. Though she hadn’t noticed it yesterday, she couldn’t help but see the resemblance today.
“I see you’re interested in the young ones,” Geoffrey said. Isabelle quickly averted her eyes. “I am too,” Geoffrey said, patting her gloved hand on his arm. “I am too. They’re our future you know.”
“I’ve come to see Kayla,” Isabelle said, trying to sound as smooth as him. “Hear more about your wonderful commune from her.”
“Oh,” Geoffrey said, pouting a little. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. But I’d be glad to tell you everything you need to know.”
Isabelle slowed a little.
“Why won’t that be possible?” she asked, forcing herself to smile. “I just saw her yesterday in the kitchen.”
“Because she left,” Geoffrey said, nonchalant, as though they were talking about a passing cloud. “Yesterday evening.”
Isabelle stopped and Geoffrey had to stop as well–either that or tug her arm out of the socket.
“She left?”
“Yes,” Geoffrey said, nodding. “Yesterday evening,” he repeated.
“Why?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” he said. “I didn’t speak to her.” He shrugged a little. “Sometimes it happens. People move on in life or want to take what we do here and spread it elsewhere.” But then he frowned. “Honestly, though, I think it had more than a little to do with her mother’s visit. She seemed deeply upset by that when she came back to the house.”
Isabelle glanced at the main house and then the others.
Geoffrey was lying.
It might be that Kayla wasn’t here but she hadn’t read that Kayla was thinking of leaving. In fact, her last words had been that she hoped to see her again. Geoffrey was waiting patiently and looking down at her. Isabelle took in a deep breath.
“Well,” she said, trying not to let her voice show the tension she felt. “That’s too bad because I thought that, if I joined, I might have a friend here.”
Geoffrey laughed out loud, a deeply musical and resonant sound.
“Oh you’ll have friends,” he said, beaming at her. “No doubt of that.”
She glanced at the buildings to the left and right of the main house.
“And, if one were to join,” she said, teasingly. “Where would one sleep?”
“Well,” he said, conspiratorially, leaning closer. “It depends on whether you’re a man or a woman.”
Isabelle felt her skin crawl.
“Just for the sake of argument,” she said. “Let’s say I’m a woman.”
Geoffrey grinned like a schoolboy.
“In that case,” he said. “In the women’s dorm.”
He nodded at the building on the right.
“Do you think I might be able to get a tour?”
He virtually raced along the branching, gray gravel path as an answer. Unlike the main house, it was only one story but it had the same bright, white paint and green, shingled roof. It was a long building and narrow and, as Geoffrey held the door for her and she stepped inside, she could see why. Though it was well lit and the beds were covered with beautiful quilts, it was more like a barracks than a dormitory. Two rows of beds lined each wall. At the foot of each was a wood chest as wide as the narrow bed. Two of the beds near the far end were occupied–possibly women who weren’t feeling well. But as Isabelle looked more closely, she realized they were both pregnant. Maybe they’d needed bed rest. As Geoffrey escorted her down the middle, he lowered his voice.
“We emphasize a life of minimalism,” he whispered. “Our members give up most of their worldly possessions when they join. The commune takes care of its own.”
I’ll bet they do, Isabelle thought.
“Where did Kayla sleep?” Isabelle asked.
“Oh,” said Geoffrey, waving his hand in the air. “I have no idea. Honestly, men aren’t generally permitted in here. I don’t know that I ever saw where she slept.”
Isabelle frowned at the two long rows of beds. There were simply too many to read, not that she could with Geoffrey’s hand clamped over hers.
But as they crossed the midpoint of the building where two doors on either side separated the two halves, one of the women called out.
“Geoffrey,” she said, smiling weakly. “Is that you?”
Like a deer caught in headlights, he stopped. He glanced from Isabelle to her and back again. Then he patted Isabelle’s hand.
“Would you be a dear and wait here?” he said. “I’ll just be a moment.”
“Of course,” Isabelle said, sounding too cheery. “Take your time,” she said more calmly.
As Geoffrey hurried over to the woman, Isabelle frantically looked around for any clue about Kayla. Though the patterns of the quilts changed from bed to bed, the arr
angements were are all similar. Some of the nightstands held small picture frames or cell phones but there were no lamps or books. Various types of sandals and shoes were stored under the bed frames. But every bed was neatly made. The wood floors gleamed with a high polish. And not a single item seemed to be out of place.
Nor any sign of Kayla.
Isabelle moved slowly along the side of the last bed in the first section and saw a trash can near the door. She glanced quickly back the way they’d come. With a quick check on Geoffrey, who’d seated himself on the edge of the woman’s bed, Isabelle strolled casually toward the trash can without looking at it. She checked Geoffrey again as he leaned down over the woman. Quickly, she glanced down into the trash. It was a large, wooden receptacle but lined with a white plastic bag. Used facial tissue, an empty bottle of shampoo. A few Q-tips. Isabelle checked Geoffrey, who seemed not to have moved. She strolled to the other side of the bin. Something near the bottom glinted. She did a quick double-take just as she realized what it was. It was a small picture frame but it was empty and the glass was cracked. She’d been about to look away when she realized what was next to it–a photo. Isabelle’s breath caught. Even at this distance, she’d know that face anywhere. It was Daniel.
With a fast and sweeping view of the entire room, Isabelle quickly stooped and grabbed the frame and photo. In her haste, she’d grabbed a folded tissue as well. She quickly dumped the frame and photo in her purse. As she peered back down into the trash, she didn’t have to wonder why Kayla would throw away a picture of Daniel–because she wouldn’t. Someone else had thrown it away.
Maybe there’s something else of Kayla’s in there.
Isabelle was just reaching back down to move the shampoo bottle out of the way when Geoffrey’s voice came from directly behind her.
“Something I can help you with?” he asked.
Isabelle jumped at the nearness, her hand flying to her chest as she straightened up. She turned to see Geoffrey staring at her hand. Abruptly, she followed his gaze and realized she was still holding the tissue. Quickly, she raised it to her nose and blew, loud and long.
Chosen (Second Sight) Page 5
