The Madness of Mercury

by Connie Di Marco

  “Where are you from?”

  “L.A.”

  “What brought you up here?”

  “Oh … I don’t know … I went through a break-up and I guess I had some crazy idea I needed to be close to nature. Some place simpler. So … ” Another peanut shell cracked. “I answered an ad for a local doctor who needed someone who could double as a nurse and office manager.”

  “How did you end up out at the compound?”

  “I visit there two afternoons a week for an hour or so, whatever they need, or if they call for me. You know, if someone gets sick. Check some of the people, blood pressure, vitals, that kind of thing. I still work for the doc.” She spoke carefully, slurring a word here and there. She’d managed to down a few beers since I had seen her at the diner.

  I glanced around the bar. “So is this what they call nightlife here?”

  Edie grimaced. “Yeah. Can you believe it? They’re all chicken farmers or some such thing. To bed at sundown and up at dawn. I guess I thought I’d find some real men up here. But they’re either drunk or taken.” She shook her head. “What was I thinking?”

  “Far cry from L.A.”

  “You can’t even imagine. Look, I’m sorry if I was rude to you. It’s just … I didn’t want to talk about that place.” She leaned closer. I could smell the beer on her breath. “They scare me.”

  “Have they threatened you?”

  “No. Not directly. It’s just … I’ve mentioned it to the doctor I work for. He’s a decent guy, but … he doesn’t want to do anything.”

  “What do you mean?” A small knot gathered in my stomach. Was she about to confirm my worst fears for Eunice?

  “It’s like this.” She swiveled on her stool and looked straight at me, lowering her voice. “I’m only allowed to see the people they choose. I can’t just check anyone I want. They put me in a little room and bring people in. They’re mostly elderly, but not all of them. A lot of them seem to be in decent shape when they first come, but after a while … ”

  “What?”

  She hesitated and looked over her shoulder, then turned back to me. “I think they’re being drugged. And some … are maybe overworked. They have a farm out there. But I can’t prove anything. I’m not allowed to draw blood or do anything like that. Today … well, I made a stink. There’s a man out there. He needs further care—he needs hospitalization. I told them that, but they didn’t want to hear it.”

  “Could you go to the sheriff?”

  “Oh, him!” She waved her hand dismissively. “He’s not gonna stir up any shit. They all just wanna get along, that’s all. But today … ”

  “So what happened?”

  Her lips set in a thin line. “They scare me. That’s all. And I’m not going back. I’m supposed to be there tomorrow, but I’m not going. I’m gettin’ the hell out of here.”

  “Back to L.A?”

  “Nope. San Francisco. I have a friend there, and I can stay with her while I look for a job. I’m an R.N. I can work anywhere. I must have been out of my mind to come up here.”

  A plan was starting to form in my mind. “What time are you supposed to be there tomorrow?”

  She looked at me carefully. “Four o’clock. Why are you asking?”

  “I’m thinking that maybe you could loan me one of your uniforms and I’ll be the next visiting nurse.”

  “Are you crazy?” She leaned closer. “These are not nice people.”

  “They may not be, but I’ve got no other option. I promised to do my best to find my friend’s aunt. She’s very frail. If she’s being drugged or overworked, I’ve got to get her out of there. My friend can’t do it. She’s a nurse too, but her other aunt has been ill and she can’t leave her.”

  “It’s your funeral, then.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  I RACED BACK TO the Bide-a-Wee, got my car, and drove the one block back to the bar, where Edie waited for me. I was half-afraid she might change her mind. Once again, I followed her, but this time on the road leading out of town. When we reached the fork, she turned left, away from the route that led to the compound. We drove a short distance. Edie’s car slowed and a blinking light indicated she was turning left again. She pulled into a narrow drive leading to a settlement of rustic cabins.

  I parked next to her, climbed out, and followed her to a door painted bright blue and lit by a hanging lantern. She turned her key in the lock and pushed the door open. “This used to be a motel. Now they rent them out.”

  “Quaint,” I replied, following her in. She glanced at me quickly. “No, really. They are. Very cute. Little hobbit houses.”

  “The best thing is, they all have fireplaces,” she said.

  Inside, the tiny cottage consisted of a small living area furnished with a worn sofa, a chair, and a lamp; a kitchen the size of a roomy closet; and one small bedroom.

  “It’s been fine for me, staying here. Can’t complain, but it’s time to move on.” We entered the bedroom. A built-in wardrobe took up half of one wall. Curtains in a flowery print covered the one window. Edie opened the wardrobe door and pulled out two uniforms. “These are old. I was getting ready to dump them. This one has pants and a top. The other is a dress style.”

  She was about my size, but taller. I was afraid the pants would be too long. I reached for the dress. “I’ll take this one. I’m sure it’ll fit me.”

  “Take one of these too.” She threw a small white cap that turned up at the edges onto the bed. Then she leaned down and rummaged on the floor of the wardrobe, emerging with a pair of scuffed, white lace-up shoes.

  “Won’t you need your cap?” I asked.

  “Nah. I just have these ’cause the doctor’s old school. He thinks it looks more professional. Nurses wear all kinds of gear now, sometimes just hospital scrubs.”

  “I really appreciate this.” I dug into my purse and pulled out a business card. “I wish you the best in San Francisco. Here’s my number if I can ever return the favor.”

  Edie stared at my card. “You’re an astrologer?”

  I nodded.

  “Thanks. I’ll give you a call soon. I can use all the help I can get. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t. I just don’t know what else to do.”

  She stood in the doorway of the cottage and watched as I dumped the uniform, shoes, and cap into the back of the car and belted myself in. I started the engine and turned the car around to head out to the road. Edie approached as I started to inch down the drive. I stopped and rolled down the window.

  “You better be careful. What do you think they keep those dogs for?”

  “To keep people out?”

  Edie shook her head. “To keep them in.”

  FORTY

  I HEADED BACK TO the Bide-a-Wee, wondering why it didn’t have a cute Scottish theme instead of the mid-1950s motif of white stucco with orange trim. There were only two other cars in the courtyard. No wonder the vacancy sign was lit. I parked in the same spot opposite my room, grabbed my nurse’s uniform, and trudged up the pressed concrete steps. I unlocked the door of room 202 and flicked on the light.

  I gasped. My room was a riot of red plaid—walls, bedcover, and drapes. Gladys should have warned me. I’d need sunglasses to sleep. The bathroom, on the other hand, matched the white and orange décor of the building. To think I’d hoped for a cute Scottish theme. This was Glasgow on acid. I shed my clothes, brushed my teeth, and slid under the covers. In seconds I slid into unconsciousness, hoping tomorrow would be my last day in Ardillas.

  I woke the next morning to a red plaid haze as early light filtered through the drapes. I fumbled for my phone to check the time. I had slept until nine o’clock! Duane the handyman was due to arrive by ten, as I recalled, and I desperately needed coffee. Time was running out and I was suffering from a rising level of anxiety. I had one day to find Eunice. Less than twenty-four hours before that solar eclipse and new moon was exact. I couldn’t ignore it. I was sure that if I was
unsuccessful in bringing Eunice home, she would come to permanent harm.

  I climbed out of bed, jumped in the shower, and dressed in record time. I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and pulled on my socks and sneakers. I was craving cappuccino. I loped down the stairs to the office and pushed through the door. The aroma of coffee filled the room. A small pot still stood on the counter with paper cups, plastic stirrers, and real cream. Next to the coffee pot was a plate with a generous stack of donuts. I poured a cup of coffee, grabbed a jelly donut, and wolfed down a mouthful of jelly and sugar.

  Gladys entered from the back room, followed by a man in his thirties who towered over her. He wore work clothes and a leather tool belt. He creaked when he walked.

  “Hello, dear. Glad you finally woke up. This is Duane.” I quickly swiped my hands on the back of my jeans before the giant shook my hand.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? “Please, call me Julia.” I was sure I wasn’t much older than he.

  Gladys busied herself wiping off the counter and rearranging the donuts. Duane nodded in her direction. “Gladys tells me you’re askin’ after that crowd out at the compound.”

  “I’m looking for my friend’s aunt. I think she might be there. In fact, I’m sure she’s there, but I can’t seem to get in.”

  “No, it’s not easy. I work there sometimes. When they call me.”

  “What do you do for them?”

  “Odd jobs. One time I fixed a pipe that broke. Another time I fixed a busted door on a cabin. I guess they asked around town and got my name.”

  “You ever get to see inside any of those cabins?”

  “Not really. Someone’ll meet me at the gate, let me in, and take me to where they need the work done. Never seen anybody who lives there. It’s like they want to keep me away from all the people. Somebody, usually one of the men, stays with me while I work and then they escort me out. There was one time, though … ” Duane glanced at Gladys as if conveying new information to her. “Everybody was busy and they asked me to stand at the gate. They were expectin’ someone and needed somebody there to watch the gate and open it.”

  “Did anyone come?”

  “A big black Caddy pulled up that day. Saw a driver and a red-haired man in the passenger seat. I did like I was told. I opened the gate and then relocked it with the chain and the lock and just went home.”

  “So if someone’s expected to arrive, there’s somebody waiting to let them in?”

  “Seems so.”

  Gladys turned back to us. “Thank you, Duane. I’ll call you if I have any more problems with that faucet.”

  “I’ll take off then.” We both watched him through the glass door as he climbed into his truck and drove away.

  “That man’s a Godsend, I tell you,” Gladys said. “I couldn’t keep this old place running if it weren’t for him. Did he help you any?”

  “Just confirmed the impression I already had.”

  “Well, dear, be careful where you nose around. People here are a little suspicious of outsiders. We just don’t want any trouble.”

  “Let’s hope Prophet’s Paradise doesn’t bring some serious trouble to your doorstep.”

  Gladys nodded and returned to her living room.

  FORTY-ONE

  I SHRUGGED INTO MY jacket and headed down the street toward the diner. For a weekday morning, it was crowded. Another waitress, in addition to the one I’d seen yesterday, was on duty. I sat at the counter, squeezed in between two large men who overflowed their stools. Belatedly I realized the man on my left was Sheriff Leo.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Good morning. How you makin’ out?”

  “Haven’t learned much.”

  “Didn’t think you’d have any luck.” He chuckled. “You interested in taking a ride out that way this morning?”

  I thought about the nurse’s uniform in my room and decided that riding along with the sheriff might not be the best idea. If I planned to get into the compound masquerading as a local nurse, I didn’t want to be spotted in the sheriff’s car, and I certainly didn’t want to fill him in on my plan.

  “Thanks, I appreciate that, but I don’t think so.”

  He looked at me questioningly. Just then the waitress arrived and I was saved from having to offer an explanation. I ordered a hearty country breakfast of bacon, two eggs, hash browns and toast. If I kept up all the good work, I’d easily grow another couple of dress sizes.

  “Suit yourself.” He took a sip of his coffee. “What do you plan to do today?”

  I decided to be honest—for a change. “I think I might take your advice and drive out to see the Walker family—the family you told me about.”

  “Hmm.” Sheriff Leo scratched his chin, as I expected. “Okay. That’s good. I’m sure they’ll talk to you, tell you whatever they know.”

  “You really had no luck at all with it?”

  “Well, the Walkers couldn’t do much. The woman and her daughter didn’t want any fuss made. They just wanted to call some relatives and get out of town.”

  “Do you think they might have told the family more?”

  “Maybe. But unless they made a complaint, my hands were tied.” He took a last swig of his coffee cup and rose from the stool. “Check back with me later. Let me know how you made out.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Back in the car, I dug the sheriff’s handwritten directions out of my purse. The farm was a few miles north of town, probably a half mile in a straight line due west from the compound. If someone needed to escape, it would be logical they’d end up at the Walker house if they headed in that direction.

  I slowed as I neared the area the sheriff had described. I spotted a sprawling ranch style house with yellow clapboard siding. An old well stood in the front yard, a bucket hanging from its tiny roof. I couldn’t tell if it was decorative or once was the real thing. Small bushes outlined the front, covered in nets of tiny multi-colored lights. A Christmas tree filled the large picture window, and a St. Nicholas doll the size of a small child rested in a hobbit-sized chair by the front door. I made a U-turn and pulled up in front of the house, as far off the road as possible. I climbed out of the car and walked to the front door, where an evergreen wreath hung, topped with a large bow. I rang the bell and soon I heard footsteps approaching. A trim woman in her forties opened the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Walker? I hope I’m not coming at a bad time. Sheriff McEnerny gave me your name.”

  “Leo?” She looked puzzled for a moment. “Okay. Why don’t you come on in. We can sit in the kitchen. I just made some fresh coffee.”

  I followed her through the front hallway. A teenage girl peeked out from another room, and, realizing it wasn’t someone her own age, disappeared.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes. Thanks. Love some.”

  “And please call me Janet.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and placed a full mug in front of me, moving the creamer and sugar bowl closer. “What can I do for you?”

  I explained the situation and told her the sheriff had told me about the people they had sheltered. She nodded and regarded me carefully, slowly stirring cream into her own cup.

  “I don’t know what to think about those people out there. That was about a year or so ago. We called Leo because we really didn’t know what to do with them. The woman claimed she escaped because they’d beaten her daughter.”

  “Escaped … not left?”

  “That’s the word she used,” she replied drily. “I found them hiding behind our barn. They were so frightened. It was all I could do to get them in the house and get them to eat a little food. The sheriff wanted to talk to them, maybe get them to press charges, but they were having none of that. They were really terrified.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “We took care of them for almost a week. They wouldn’t leave the house—afraid to be spotted, I guess. They wouldn’t talk much a
t all. They didn’t have anything but the clothes on their backs. The little girl was only about ten years old. Frankly, I wondered what other kind of abuse might be going on out there, but there wasn’t anything anyone could do.” She took a sip of her coffee. “The day after we took them in, two people, a man and a woman, nicely dressed, perfectly normal looking, showed up. They claimed the woman and the girl had gone for a walk and hadn’t come back. They said they were worried they might have gotten lost.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Not a thing. I didn’t invite them in. After I saw the condition that poor woman and child were in, and the fact that they ate like they hadn’t had a decent meal in a while, I didn’t buy that story for a minute. Just told ’em I hadn’t seen a thing and made sure the door was locked afterwards. I did suggest they talk to the sheriff, though.”

  “Did they?”

  “They did not. I called the sheriff the next day and asked if anyone had contacted him. And I checked again a week later. He never received any reports of anyone missing.” She paused. “That woman and the girl, they were poor. She was a single mother, and I guess she hooked up with that group because they promised shelter and some sort of religious community. Whatever it is, those people must have a good rap, but the reality seems quite different. Anyway, long story short, the mother finally managed to locate some relatives down in Daly City who offered them a place to stay. My husband drove them down on one of his trips to San Francisco.”

  “Was that the last you heard of them?”

  “Yes, it was. Except about a week later, the same two people came around again. Tell you the truth, they gave me the creeps. Real friendly and laid back, just to tell me not to worry, their visitors were fine. I said, ‘That’s good, because I was worried and I let the sheriff know some people might be missing.’” She chuckled. “You should have seen the look on their faces. Not so friendly then, and they took off in a hurry.” Janet brushed a crumb off the tabletop. “I wish you luck finding your friend’s aunt. I know there’s a lot of elderly out there too. I can’t imagine putting old people in those drafty old cabins. It was a kind of campground years ago, but after the owner died, the buildings were never fixed up. They might have running water and maybe electricity, but it’s not a good place for old people. Not a good place for anybody, if you ask me.”