by Elle Gray
He nods. “That’s true. And such a tragedy. Stacy was a pure soul,” he sighs. “I wish she’d never made the decision to recouple with the outside world. But she did. And that was her decision to make, as we all enjoy free will.”
“Great,” I say. “Let’s have the nickel tour, huh?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Over the next hour, Crawford walks us around Haven like a proud father. It’s a self-sustaining community that relies on solar and wind power, and crops they grow themselves. They’ve got a well that’s fed by an underground spring, and all the buildings are made of the same uniform brick and wood. There are dormitories for the single residents—of which there are roughly fifty or sixty—with small cottages for families.
He leads us into the main dining hall. Three rows of long banquet tables sit in front of a dais that holds one long table perpendicular to the others. That’s obviously where the leaders of this community sit. We take a seat at one of the long tables, Crawford sitting across from us. My four techs start spreading out through the community, taking swabs and samples. I told them to focus on the infirmary first, then hit Stacy’s living area.
When I gave those orders, I saw Crawford tighten up, but he managed to keep his cool. What he doesn’t know is I told my techs—as well as Astra, who’s speaking with the residents—to look for a baseball bat or a steel pipe. I need them to find something that could have been used to bludgeon Stacy Burkett to death and test it for blood.
Any rational person would have disposed of it. But Crawford is a classic narcissist. He doesn’t think he can do any wrong and practically considers himself a god. I’ve learned that much over the last hour with him—and that gives me hope that he held onto that bat.
“Everybody pulls his or her weight and contributes to the welfare of our community,” Crawford tells me. “What I’ve created here is a utopia for those who want to unplug from the world as it is today. People who want to live a simpler, better, cleaner life.”
“I’ll admit, it’s impressive,” I say. “A self-sustaining, green community with almost no carbon footprint. Impressive, Dr. Crawford. Honestly.”
He gives me a beatific smile. “It started off as a thought experiment by Arnold Merrick. I just took the next step and then perfected it.”
“I can tell you’re very proud of Haven,” I say. “But I would like to speak with some of your residents now. And I’d like to start with Selene Hedlund please.”
A grin curls a corner of his mouth upward. “I thought you might.”
“Did you, now?”
He nods. “I know you better than you might think.”
“Oh, I think that goes both ways, Dr. Crawford.”
“Maybe so,” he replies. “At any rate, I’ll have her sent in.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” he says graciously.
I wait for a few minutes before Selene walks in. She has a small smile playing across her lips as she sits down across from me. She’s far from being the nearly out-of-control party girl everybody said she was. There's a certain peace about her. She looks like a woman perfectly in control of herself. More than that, a woman who’s at peace with herself. There’s a quiet confidence and tranquility about her that I can’t deny. This is not a victim of trafficking. This is a woman who made a choice—one in which she found serenity.
“Selene,” I start. “I’m Blake Wilder with the FBI. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well, Agent Wilder.”
“We’ve been expending a lot of energy and resources looking for you.”
Her smile is soft, but her eyes twinkle mischievously. “And I’ve been here all along.”
“Your mother is very worried about you, Selene.”
“She doesn’t need to be. I’m right where I belong now. I’m living my truth,” she says. “And I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I feel at peace in Haven—something I never once felt in the outside world.”
“Why didn’t you tell your mother—”
“Because she would have tried to stop me. She would have tried to make me doubt myself,” she says. “Silas believes the best way is to simply cut ties all at once. Leave your past where it belongs and never explain yourself to the outside world, because they won’t understand. Worse, they’ll try to talk you out of it. And he’s right—as he is in most things.”
Wow. “As he is in most things”? She sounds brainwashed, saying things like that, but when I look into her eyes, I can see that she truly believes it. She truly believes in Silas. He has managed to build a strong, resilient community. He’s given these young people a confidence they perhaps didn’t have before. It would be a remarkable and even admirable thing if he wasn’t setting himself up as their savior, their father or god figure, or whatever he considers himself.
“What you need to understand is that my mother isn’t worried about me. She’s worried about her image—or what I might do to her image. I’ve never been anything more than a prop to her,” she continues. “It took me awhile to understand that, but now that I have, everything makes so much more sense. I’ve come to understand that my mother is not interested in my happiness—she never has been. For her, it’s all about her career. Her image. And I deserve better than that. I deserve more than that.”
The horrible thing about all of this is that Selene is right. She deserves more than to simply be a prop for her mother’s ambitions. I have little doubt that her feelings are valid. That her mother only ever worried about her image—and what Selene’s transgressions would do to her image. It’s never been about Selene as a person. It’s only ever been about what Selene could do for her mother. And that’s a tragedy.
“Just so I’m clear, you were not coerced to give up your life and come to Haven in any way, whatsoever?” I ask. “You made this decision of your own free will?”
She smiles. “I didn’t give up my life, Agent Wilder. I found my life, I found myself,” she says. “So yes, I am here of my own free will—as I believe my video and signed affidavit attest.”
“And you were not under duress when you signed that?”
“No. Far from it,” she replies. “For the first time in my life, I’m happy, Agent Wilder. Why can you not accept that as truth?”
I look at her closely, staring into her eyes. And what I see is that she isn’t lying. She’s not reciting a script that was forced upon her. She truly is here of her own free will. More than that, Selene genuinely seems happy. She seems at peace.
“I think you should call your mother,” I tell her. “You should at least tell her what you’ve told me.”
“She’s part of my old life. She’s as irrelevant to me as I was to her when I was growing up,” she says. “And you can tell her I said that.”
“Blake.”
I look to the doorway and see Astra leaning in. She holds up a bat she’s got bagged and nods to me. I turn back to Selene and feel a sharp stab of guilt, knowing we are about to blow up her entire world. We are going to destroy the peace and happiness she had been waiting her entire life to find. To say I’m conflicted would be a vast understatement. I find myself wondering if Haven can survive without Crawford.
“Okay, that’s all I have for the moment, Selene,” I tell her as I get to my feet. “Thank you for speaking with me.”
She nods. “Of course. I hope we can put this whole silly affair to rest now.”
I give her a weak smile, knowing this isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. I can’t tell her that, though. I walk out of the dining hall and join Astra as we walk back to the SUVs. I look around, but don’t see Crawford anywhere, and feel a shudder of concern as images of him and his men arming up flash through my mind. The last thing I want is for this to turn into another Waco or Ruby Ridge.
“Talk to me,” I say.
“You were right, he kept the bat. It wasn’t even hidden very well,” she says. “Guzman checked it out and it tested positive for blood. He thinks there’s eno
ugh still in the grain of the wood for DNA. What about Selene? Brainwashed? Drugged?”
I shake my head. “Fully coherent. Fully present. And fully on board with Crawford’s message and Haven,” I tell her. “She genuinely seems happy and at peace with herself. She doesn’t want to leave.”
“Same with everybody else I talked to—the men and the women,” she says. “They were all students of Crawford at one point and decided that life at Haven would be better for them than life in the outside world.”
“And now we’re going to burn it all to the ground,” I say.
“You don’t think this place can survive without him?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Gut instinct tells me no. He’s the glue that holds it all together.”
“Well, I guess they’re going to find out one way or another,” she says.
She puts the bat in the back of the SUV as the techs start loading their gear into the back of theirs. I look over and see Crawford walking toward us. Selene and the rest of his flock walk behind him—he’s smiling, but they all look pensive. I walk over to him.
“Dr. Crawford, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Stacy Burkett,” I say.
He gives me a small smile. “This is why we have all chosen to seek refuge and live our lives out here—free of the interference of your world.”
“Murder is murder, Dr. Crawford,” I tell him. “Be it in our world or yours, you can’t simply murder somebody.”
“Well, I’d say you have an uphill battle to prove that. But good luck with that,” he says, then turns to his flock, some of whom are crying as I put the handcuffs on him. “Worry not, everybody. This is how they treat those who are different from them. Who refuse to live by their norms and notions of society. But don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it. I promise you. And when I am, we shall celebrate.”
“Good luck with that,” I mutter and push him toward the SUV.
Thirty-Two
Interrogation Suite Alpha-4; Seattle Field Office
“I meant it when I said I was impressed with Haven,” I tell him. “It’s a remarkable achievement.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Crawford asks.
“Do you think it’ll be able to function without you?” Astra asks.
“Oh, I’m sure it could. No one man is bigger than Haven. Our ideals are bigger than any individual,” he says. “We are a family, and we all work for the betterment of our world.”
“That’s good,” Astra counters. “Because they’re going to need to find somebody to fill your shoes for the next twenty years or so.”
He chuckles softly. “And what is it you believe you have on me?” he asks. “You have clearly seen these young women are not being trafficked. You have heard them tell you they gave permission for their bank accounts to be accessed and their worldly possessions sold. So, where is the crime you are attempting to persecute me with?”
“‘Persecute’. That’s a pretty bold choice of words,” I comment.
“And what would you call it?” he asks.
“I’d call it being held accountable for your actions,” I tell him. “You killed Stacy Burkett, and now you’re going to pay for it.”
He laughs softly. “Why would I kill Stacy Burkett? Because she wanted to leave Haven and rejoin the ugliness of your world?” he asks. “Why would I want somebody who did not believe in what we’re doing out there to remain among us? Haven is only for those who believe and will work to better themselves and our community.”
“Where is Stacy Burkett’s child?” I ask.
“I couldn’t tell you,” he replies.
“You do know we have the bat you used to beat Stacy to death, right?” Astra asks.
I see concern briefly flash through his eyes, but it disappears just as quickly. Crawford is a master at controlling his emotions and his expressions. But for just a split second, the mask slipped, and I got a peek at how concerned he is. The feeling is satisfying, albeit short-lived. The last thing I’m going to do is allow myself to feel any sort of way until we have Crawford in bracelets and heading down to a cell. Been there, done that with Petrosyan—and I have no desire to repeat the experience.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says smoothly.
“Oh, you tried washing it down, but the problem is that blood seeped into the wood grain,” I tell him. “We’re currently pulling DNA from it, and when it matches Stacy Burkett’s, you are going to be going away for a very long time.”
“So, why did you kill her, Dr. Crawford?” Astra asks.
“I didn’t.”
“Was it simply because she wanted to leave?” Astra presses. “Could you not tolerate the fact that she didn’t want to be part of your little commune anymore?”
He laughs softly and shakes his head. “As amusing as all of this is, I’m afraid it’s beginning to get tiresome,” he says. “And I don’t feel like continuing this circular argument with you anymore.”
“Well, you could save us all a lot of time and confess to what you did,” I offer.
His smile is wide. “I could do that. But instead, I think I’ll ask for my lawyer,” he says. “I would like to get back to my people. You left them in crisis, and I need to get back to help allay their fears and ensure they remain calm.”
“Don’t you mean you need to get back to soak up their worship of you?” Astra fires back. “I can almost picture you walking through the gates of Haven, wailing and moaning like a horribly misunderstood and persecuted man—”
“Isn’t that what I am?”
“No,” I say. “You’re a murderer.”
“An allegation that has not been proven,” he counters. “And once again, I will ask for my lawyer, which is my right under the Miranda warning you gave me. Until Mr. Tinsley arrives, I will have nothing further to say.”
“You have this one chance to help yourself, Dr. Crawford,” I tell him. “Once we walk out that door and your lawyer walks in the other one, we’ll be coming after you for the whole boat. You’ll be staring down a murder charge, Silas. There won’t be any helping you after that.”
“I need no help,” he insists. “I’m innocent of all charges.”
“All right. Good luck to you, then,” I say. “I’ll have your lawyer sent in.”
Astra and I get to our feet and walk into the pod, closing the door behind us and staring at him through the glass for a moment. He sits at the table, completely self-possessed and confident. He truly believes he did nothing wrong and that he won’t suffer the consequences of his actions. Like any other true narcissist.
I turn and look through the glass at the observation room behind us. Tinsley is sitting with Dansby, neither of them speaking. Dansby looks pensive. Far tenser than his half-brother. There’s a tightness in his eyes and in his body that tells me he’s nervous. Scared. And added to all of that the fact that Dansby isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box, he very well could be ripe for the picking.
“I have an idea,” I mention to Astra.
“On a scale of one to ten—with ten being a really horrible idea—where does your idea land?” Astra asks.
“Probably a twelve. Maybe thirteen.”
“Oh, I’m so in,” she grins.
“Toni,” I turn to the tech. “Do me a favor and send a text message to Tinsley. Inform him that Dr. Crawford is asking for him.”
“You got it,” she says and does as I ask.
“And once Tinsley leaves Alpha-2, turn on the audio/visual equipment,” I say.
“Done,” she says.
I turn to Astra. “Just follow my lead.”
We watch through the glass as Tinsley picks up his phone and reads the message. He gets up without a word and leaves Dansby sitting there alone. When we see Tinsley enter the room with Dr. Crawford, I give Astra a nod and we walk out of the pod and into Dansby’s interrogation room, quickly taking seats at the table across from him.
I look at him for a long moment in silence, amping up his fe
ar. It’s amusing to me how tough and macho he acts when he’s got Tinsley to hide behind, but put him alone in the room with us and he looks like he’s about to wet himself.
“You ain’t supposed to be talkin’ to me without my lawyer present,” he mutters.
“Nothing in the rules says we can’t sit in the room until your lawyer comes back,” I counter.
“Yeah, whatever,” Dansby snaps.
“Your brother,” I say. “He’s an impressive guy. Makes sense that Tinsley would rather defend him than you.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
I shrug. “He sure bugged out of here real quick, didn’t he?”
“Really quick,” Astra adds. “Almost as if he was summoned by a more important person.”
“Well, to be fair, Crawford is the one bankrolling this whole thing,” I say.
Astra nods. “But Alex here provides a vital function to Haven.”
“That’s right. I do,” he says.
“He doesn’t do anything a trained monkey couldn’t do,” I say. “Crawford could replace him in a heartbeat. My guess is it’s only because Alex here is family—sort of—that Crawford gave him a job. Probably felt sorry for him.”
“Hey, shut up. Just shut your mouth.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Astra nods. “In Crawford’s place, I’d probably feel sorry for him, too. But I don’t know that I’d trust him to help run my passion project.”
“I said, shut your mouth,” he snaps.
“I get the feeling with the way things are shaking out, Crawford’s going to have to look out for number one,” I tell her. “Probably going to cut the dead weight and make sure he can cut a good deal to get back to Haven as fast as he can.”
Astra cuts a quick look at Dansby and returns her gaze right to me. “He’d be the dead weight in that scenario, right?”
“Why are you sayin’ this garbage? You better shut your mouths,” he growls. “Right now. I mean it.”
I go on as though he’s not even there, looking at Astra instead of him. “With the evidence we have, Crawford is looking at some serious time.”
