I nodded, thinking that the location of the bathrooms might explain the shadow I saw. It made sense that someone dancing at the end of the square near the garden would go that way around the long side house instead of walking the length of the square to go around the other side.
“Would you like me to show you?” Harmony asked.
“Please.” My bladder was suffering from all the punch. It wasn’t every day I had anything remotely healthy offered to me in drink form, and I’d overdone it.
She smiled at Dar. “Excuse us, then.”
He nodded, and I wondered if it was my imagination that he let her go with reluctance. They were probably close friends and they’d have a lot to catch up on. I’d deduced by now that Dar was Gabe’s second-in-command, so his friendship with Gabe’s wife was only natural. Still, it made me uncomfortable that I hadn’t yet spotted Marcie or Victoria. With every second they were missing, the greater the likelihood that something suspicious was going on in this paradise.
Behind the house Harmony clicked on the flashlight, the beam casting otherworldly shadows on the tree trunks and shrubbery. My hand glided over the rough bark of a tall tree, and I experienced something I was at a loss to describe. Not imprints or emotions, but something ancient and wise and benevolent. I wondered if my imagination was working overtime again.
“I bet the children love to play here.”
“They adore it. That’s part of why I insisted Dar design the houses this way. Not enough forest left here to get lost in or to attract the biggest wild animals, but enough to have a good game of hide and seek and chase a rabbit or two.”
“And hide the bathrooms.”
Her laugh trilled out a little too loudly. “Exactly.” We were quiet a moment, following a dirt and pine needle path that was wide enough to allow us to walk side by side. She moved like a dancer, graceful and aware of her body.
“Dar likes you,” she said after a few moments of quiet. “Or at least it seems that way to me. He was watching you.”
I wasn’t surprised. I had that effect on almost everyone who knew about my strange ability. It had nothing to do with romance. For my part, I hadn’t once thought of Dar as anything other than a particularly eloquent kook, who had a kindly tendency toward his misshapen brother. I had judged and dismissed him quickly, placing him in a box labeled “Not my type.” Now I wondered what kind of man he was inside. If it had cost him personally to stay behind when his brother had left the farm. If he had known his sister-in-law well before her death. If he’d ever been married.
I didn’t know what to say to Harmony, so I shrugged. “I think he’s watching everyone. His brother’s missing, and he’s probably concerned about him showing up here.”
“Oh?” Yet something in the way she said it made me feel she already knew about Inclar.
“There was some trouble with his brother back in Portland. A detective came to the hotel. I thought someone might have called to let you know.”
“There’s no phone here.”
I hadn’t considered that.
“We do sometimes get messages from our business in Rome,” she added, pulling back a branch overhanging the path and holding it so I could pass. “That’s closer for messages, but no one came from there today except you guys.”
“I don’t know much else.”
“Ah.” She didn’t seem concerned.
“Did you know his brother?”
She nodded. “And his wife.”
“She was here?” This surprised me.
“For a little while. But she left, and then she died. Inclar—that’s Dar’s brother—didn’t like staying here because of the memories.”
“I see.” I remembered from the imprint on Dar’s watch that he had let Inclar out of a locked room. Why had he been locked up? “Do a lot of people leave here?”
“A few.” She laughed. “Not many. Most choose to stay.”
“Do you and Gabe have children?”
She didn’t seem to think it odd that I should know she was married to the commune’s leader. Apparently, there weren’t many members named Harmony. “We have one little girl. Five years old. Flower. Oh, I know”—she laughed self-consciously—“it’s a silly name, but she is like a beautiful flower to me. She’ll change it when she’s fourteen, I’m sure, but for now it serves her well.”
“She was born here?”
She nodded. “We’d just completed the houses. Took us four years and a lot of work.”
“I’ll bet.” I waited what I thought might be a proper time before asking. “So how many members are there?”
“Almost two hundred now.”
“Are all of them here tonight?” I didn’t think there’d been that many at the dance.
“Twenty or so are at the bakery in Rome, and another twenty are with Gabe in the city. Some are watching the animals, and a few are sick in bed.”
“So everyone lives in those three houses?”
“Yes. We’ll give you a tour tomorrow, but basically the house we passed coming out here is divided in half for the single men and the women. The house opposite is for families. The main house has the kitchen, laundry facilities, a meeting room, and the leader’s quarters.”
I wondered if the leader’s quarters were any better than anyone else’s, but I didn’t say that aloud. As Gabe’s wife, she wouldn’t take that well.
“So how many are married?” I asked.
She laughed again. “That’s important, isn’t it? Don’t worry. We have more unmarried men than married men. Gabe encourages marriages, but no one is ever forced. You can date anyone you’d like.”
“I guess that’s good,” I said in a tone that told her I wasn’t interested.
We walked along in silence. “What, no more questions?” she asked at last.
When I didn’t respond, she gave another short burst of laughter, and I didn’t know whether to be offended or not.
“It’s just all so new,” I offered.
Her hand touched my shoulder with a fleeting movement, a butterfly kiss. “Please, don’t be offended. I forget what it is to be new. I’m afraid we are too blunt and rough here sometimes, but I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you’ll be happy.”
Before I could respond, her light shone on a building with rustic wood siding. “Here we are. This side is for the girls. The other is for the boys. It’s not bad. We installed flush toilets last year, and there’s electricity.” She opened the wooden door and flipped on a switch.
The place didn’t even smell. “Thank you,” I said.
“Do you think you can find your way back? We have a horse about to foal in the barn just beyond those trees, and I’d like to peek in on her. I’ll leave you the flashlight.”
“I just follow the path?”
“Yes. The wide one. It goes straight back.”
“What about you?”
Her laugh tinkled like warm drops of rain on a pond. “Oh, I don’t need light. The moon is out. But I’ll take a lantern just to be sure. We keep a few extra out here because the children like to play pranks and leave each other in the dark.”
The image made me laugh.
She opened another door in the building, revealing a closet filled with cleaning supplies and lanterns. After taking one but not lighting it, she extended the red flashlight to me, deceptively small for such bright light. “I’d like to have it back later,” she said. “It’s one of the few battery-operated ones we have left. I use it a lot.”
“Sure.” I took the light without thinking and watched her go. I was glad she didn’t look back because images from the flashlight were shifting in my mind, and she might have been concerned at my expression. This was no ordinary flashlight, one people had used uneventfully or without a second thought. Unfortunately, I had none of my antique rings to soften the mental explosion.
Of the three missing people, the one in this imprint wasn’t one I’d been hoping to find.
Chapter 13
Why are you here?” Harmony
was saying in the imprint. She was speaking to Inclar, who had appeared in the circle of her flashlight. Trees loomed all around in the darkness, and she was horribly afraid.
“Is he here? I don’t want him to know I came.”
“Is who here?” Harmony’s voice was gentle as she forced herself to approach Inclar.
“I had a key. I came to tell him.”
“Come back to the house with me.”
“No!” Inclar’s crazy eye rolled wildly. “She’s crying. I can’t. He can’t know. Not about the key.”
“Who can’t know? Inclar, you’re making no sense. Come in and have some food.” Harmony’s voice was unsteady.
“I’m so tired.” Inclar slumped against a tree.
“Then come with me.”
“He’ll never let me leave again.”
“You won’t have to.”
“I did a bad thing.”
“Everyone does bad things sometimes. Look, Inclar, I’m sure if you talk to Gabe and Dar, everything will be okay. Just come with me to the house.”
Inclar’s right eye stopped rolling, and for a moment he stared at her intently.
Harmony’s breath went in and out and in again. Her heart thundered in her chest.
“He will never leave you,” he whispered, “but he will not be here.” All at once he brushed past her, knocking her down in the brush near the path. Harmony screamed. She dropped the light, and the scene went abruptly dark.
Instantly, the imprint was replaced by older, more pleasant ones. A colt taking its first steps in a darkened barn three years earlier. A view of stars from a hilltop where Harmony lay curled in a man’s arms, his face hidden by the dark, a private tenderness between them. This last scene repeated itself, slight variations stretching over at least several years. Strong but so intertwined that the images changed before I could get a decent lock on them. Though joyful, they did nothing to erase or even calm the fear the first imprint had left.
The images faded, and I was able to uncurl my own fingers long enough to drop the flashlight. It thudded to the cement walkway near the outhouse and went dark. I took a long, slow breath, feeling shaky. The terrifying imprint of Inclar had occurred not more than twenty-four hours earlier, and Harmony’s fear of him mingled with my own. Was he around still? Perhaps waiting to finish the job he’d started in the lobby of my apartment?
I held my breath and listened. Music still came from the dance, but that was far off. There was no other sound. The outhouses had been built in a small clearing in the forest, or the trees had been cleared for the purpose, and I saw that Harmony had been right about the moon. It was bright enough for me to see the path, even without the dim light coming from inside the bathrooms.
Leaving the flashlight where it lay, I went inside to relieve my strained bladder. The walls were cinder blocks painted a shade of cool, pale yellow. A row of sinks stood opposite a row of toilet stalls. A space at the end that had once been a communal shower had been fitted with more sinks and more stalls, so apparently the bathing facilities had been moved to the houses when they’d pumped in the water. I was glad for that. The bathroom was remarkably clean, though there were a few dead bugs under the corner sink and cobwebs near one of the high windows along the top that were fitted with privacy glass. There was a bar of soap at each sink and real towels that were so clean I knew they must be changed daily. No mirrors. Apparently, primping wasn’t encouraged here. A wall hanging with neat, even embroidery stitches reminded people to shut the door when they left in order to keep out the critters.
I turned on the faucet gingerly, but no imprint reared to assault me. What now? I thought as I dried my hands.
I wished it were already the next day so I could take a tour and figure out the most likely places for someone to be hidden. I wanted to be introduced to those who weren’t around tonight. While I was still determined to believe there was an explanation for Marcie and Victoria’s absence, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that coming here hadn’t been such a wise idea. Meeting Harmony had only underscored this feeling. Something about her made me uneasy.
Why had Inclar come here? Had he told someone about the key that was even at this moment tucked into a torn patch of lining in my suitcase? I hadn’t dared touch it again, but I hadn’t wanted to carry it openly to the farm, either.
Well, one thing was certain, I wasn’t getting anywhere standing in this bathroom looking at the painted wall. My nerves felt jangly, disconnected from reading that first imprint. I needed something to steady me.
Patting my dress to find my pocket, another reason I’d chosen this outfit, I brought out the tiny phone Ethan had given me. No service. I’d seen that one coming. But the two-way radio was working, which meant Ethan must be in range. I felt relieved at that.
I shoved it into my pocket as giggling warned me someone was approaching. Two barefooted girls burst into the bathroom, the taller one carrying a lantern. Both had blonde hair past their shoulders, and the older one had the beginnings of an overbite, but that was the only thing that distinguished them in the dimness of the bathroom. They stopped when they saw me, their eyes opening wide. “Hi,” said the older one softly. She ducked her head. The other gave me a shy smile and disappeared into a stall.
“Hi,” I replied and started for the door.
Freed from further politeness, the older girl darted into a stall, clicking the door shut more firmly than necessary.
Outside I picked up the flashlight with one of the hand towels I’d taken from the bathroom. No need to see the image of Inclar again; it’d been clear enough. The flashlight wouldn’t go on, no matter how I fiddled with it. I hoped Harmony had extra bulbs.
I was torn between hurrying back to the square and finding a secluded place out here where I could contact Ethan with the radio. I wasn’t scheduled to contact him until tomorrow night, unless there was an emergency, but Inclar’s showing up here seemed emergency enough. Maybe Ethan could contact Shannon and let him know. Was Inclar important enough for Shannon to call in favors from whatever police jurisdiction was responsible for this area, or would he come here himself? I couldn’t exactly depend on his fascination with me extending that far.
The woods appeared deserted except for traffic to the bathrooms, so I decided to find a place to contact Ethan. As long as I didn’t go too far away, I should be able to find my way back or at least scream loud enough for someone to find me.
I stepped onto the path, and as I pondered which way to go, the girls came from the bathroom and tripped past me, running with sure feet down the dark path. The moon filtered only weakly through the trees here, and the light from their lantern hit the trees more than the path, but that didn’t seem to stop them. Their giggles drifted back to me. No doubt they’d tell their friends they’d seen me here, looking blank and stupid. They might even come back with a few of those friends and an adult or two to see what was taking me so long.
To the left then, away from where I’d seen the shadow disappear behind the house, though I was already some distance from there. I wasn’t afraid exactly. I was sure it had only been someone heading to the outhouse. Well, almost sure.
Off the path, walking was a little more difficult because of the undergrowth. It was darker because the trees were thicker, but I felt more secure, as though the darkness caressed and protected me. I’d always enjoyed the darkness, even as a child. Perhaps that’s because Winter and Summer had taken me with them wherever they went regardless of the time of night, and they’d never insisted on a bedtime, believing I’d sleep when my body needed the rest. The night was my friend, and this night I felt embraced by the shadows.
For all that I was barefoot and the occasional stick poked my foot, most of the forest floor had much more give than I would have expected. It was colder, though, but walking kept the night chill at bay.
I walked until I was sure I was out of hearing range of the bathrooms. The trees continued to stretch out before me with no sign of an end, and that surprised me.
Harmony’s assurances that the children wouldn’t get lost or be in any danger had made me envision something much smaller.
At last I spied a fallen log and settled on it, listening to the night sounds—the chirp of a cricket, the rustle of a rodent, the hoo-hoo of an owl. The air was fresh here, breathable and sweet, but now that I wasn’t walking, my arms felt cold. The elevation wasn’t much different from that of Portland, but it felt much cooler here. Perhaps because of all the vegetation. I’d give a lot for Jake’s leather jacket, but all I had was the hand towel. I set down the flashlight and spread out the towel. Slightly larger than my hand towel back home but a far cry from a bath towel. At least it covered my neck and capped my shoulders.
Everything was quiet around me, and after waiting a few more minutes to be certain I was alone, I turned on the radio and called Ethan. Since he’d probably realized by now that our phones didn’t work here, he should have his radio on. He had plenty of batteries, so it was his responsibility to be ready in case I contacted him.
“Ethan, it’s me. Are you there?” I released the call button to a light flurry of static and waited, hoping he was in range. I might have to move closer to the fence if he didn’t respond, though in what direction that was, I was no longer sure.
Louder static and then Ethan’s voice, “I’m here.”
I blew out a relieved sigh. His reply had been a little noisy for the quiet night, so I turned down my volume and put the receiver up to my ear.
“Is everything okay?” he added. “Did you find Marcie?”
“No. Sorry. I haven’t seen her or Victoria. They’re having a party here, but not all their members came.” He didn’t reply, perhaps too polite to ask me why I was contacting him early if I hadn’t found his sister. “I’m calling because Inclar was here,” I rushed on. “I think you should tell the police.”
“Is he still there?”
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