“You talking about that compound?” A tall, lean man in overalls entered the kitchen and, taking a mug from the counter, poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Jim, this is Julia. The sheriff sent her out. She’s looking for her friend’s aunt.”
He leaned over to shake my hand, then took a seat at the end of the wooden table and looked at me seriously. “You think she’s there?”
“We’re pretty sure. She left a note.”
“Damn. Good luck with that.” He shook his head.
“Your wife just filled me in about the woman and her daughter you took in.”
“We tried to find out as much as we could. Maybe get ’em to press charges if there was anything strange goin’ on.”
“Did you believe them?”
“I sure did. That little girl never spoke one word the whole time she was here. The mother … well, she explained enough. I could tell she was real scared they might find her and grab her back. She didn’t want to talk to the sheriff at all.” He stared into his coffee cup and looked up. “She did tell me some strange stuff though.”
“Like what?”
“Guess you’d call it brainwashing. This preacher … he had ’em all convinced they owed their lives to him. That he could do anything he wanted to them and he had complete control over everything. If they ever tried to leave or talk to any outsiders, they’d be betraying him and the Lord would strike them dead. He did a real job on those people.”
“It’s so sad,” Mrs. Walker added. “They were simple people, religious—that’s how they were able to hook them. It is brainwashing. I hate to think what else is going on. I just don’t understand why people put their trust in any stranger who talks about God and give up control over their own lives. I just don’t understand it.”
“Maybe ’cause they have nothing else.” Her husband replied, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
I said goodbye to the Walkers and headed back to town the way I’d come. These country roads wound around so much I was afraid I’d lose my sense of direction if I didn’t retrace my steps, like Hansel and Gretel dropping bread crumbs. Because the road curved in a semi-circle, the Walker ranch was at least two miles from the compound by the road, even though closer in a straight line than any other inhabited property.
Instead of turning toward town, I stayed on the road, following it as it circled around. I passed the entrance to Prophet’s Paradise and continued on. I took the first right turn I could find. This road again followed the property line. Between breaks in the trees, I spotted more chain-link fencing. The entire compound was fenced off from anyone who might accidentally wander in—or deliberately attempt to get out.
After completing the circuit, I headed back to town. I pulled up at the one hardware store the town boasted and wandered up and down the aisles looking for wire cutters. I wasn’t sure what size I needed for the job I had in mind and was finally forced to approach the counter. A rotund man of about fifty, wearing an extra-large T-shirt that hung over his belly and a baseball cap, spoke up. “Whatcha’ lookin’ for, lady?”
“I need a wire cutter that’ll work on a chain-link fence.”
“Hmmm … that’d be about a number nine wire, I guess. What do you need that for?”
“We’re taking down a section of fence to put in a gate.” I’m so honest. I hoped I looked like a do-it-yourselfer.
“You doing that by yourself?”
“Mostly.”
“Well … show you what I have. Lotta ranchers use these, works on barbed wire too.” He disappeared through a door behind the counter and returned with a two-foot-long, double-handled implement. “This might be kinda heavy for you. Give it a try.”
I picked it up. It weighed about twelve pounds. “Not bad, but do you have anything lighter or smaller maybe?”
“Not here, miss. You’d probably like a Felco, maybe a twelve or sixteen inch. They only weigh a couple of pounds, but they have carbide blades that can cut through links pretty easy.”
I sighed. “Do you happen to know where I could get one of those?”
“Well … ” He rubbed the back of his neck while he thought. “There’s a place over in Cloverville that sells sporting and climbing gear. Those guys use ’em. Not cheap though. Other than that, maybe you’d have to drive down to Santa Rosa.”
“Oh.” My disappointment must have shown.
“Tell you what. I’ll give ’em a call. I know the guys over there. If they have ’em in stock, you want them to hold one for you?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Wait here.” He disappeared again through the rear door.
If I had to, I’d buy the twelve pound wire cutters, but the lighter tool could make any task easier. I might be jumping the gun and the tool might not be necessary at all. At least I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but if I had one shot to get into the compound, I wanted to be prepared for the worst.
The clerk returned a moment later. “They’ll hold one for you. Ask for Al when you get there. I forgot to ask the price, but it’ll probably run about sixty bucks or so.”
“Thanks!”
“Just head back to the freeway, go under the overpass, and it’s about ten miles to Cloverville. Can’t miss the place. Big yellow sign two blocks down.”
I waved and ran back to the car. I followed the clerk’s directions and in thirty minutes I was driving down Sebastopol Street. I spotted the yellow sign two blocks in and parked in front. Only one man was at the counter.
“You must be Al.”
“Sure am.” He smiled. He reached under the counter and pulled out a shiny, twelve-inch-long tool. “You won’t have any trouble with this. Great tool. These carbide blades will cut through anything pretty quick.” I pulled out a credit card, waited for Al to run it, and then signed.
“No need to wrap it up. I’ll just carry it. Thanks.” I jammed it into my purse and jogged back to my car. Forty minutes later, I pulled into the courtyard of the Bide-A-Wee. I’d have just enough time. I parked in one of the many empty slots and loped up the stairs to my room. I had nothing to pack, and if I stuffed everything I didn’t need into my overnight bag, I could check out of the Bide-a-Wee before going out to the compound.
Once inside my room, I dialed Dorothy’s number on my cell. It rang several times until the answering machine picked up. I left a message that I’d have more news for her later in the day. She might be busy with Evandra or maybe out doing errands. I didn’t want to tell her what I planned. I didn’t want her worrying about me as well as Eunice.
I shed my clothes, pulled the white uniform over my head, pinned my hair in a bun, and pulled on the rubber-soled orthopedic shoes. I tied the laces and winced. They were half a size too small and started to pinch after a couple of steps. I was wishing I’d brought some tights or pantyhose to keep my legs warm, but I didn’t want to take the time to try to locate a store. If Edie arrived at four o’clock on the nose, I would too. I used two more pins to secure the little white hat. I checked myself in the mirror. I thought I looked quite professional—Julia Bonatti, R.N.—nurse without a license. Hopefully no one would ask me to do anything more complicated than check a pulse.
I emptied the contents of my purse into the overnight bag. Then I grabbed my sneakers, a pair of socks, jeans, a knitted cap, a T-shirt, and a thick sweater and stuffed them in my large purse, along with the wire cutters and the scarf I’d discovered in the pocket of my down jacket. Thank heavens for big purses. I stuck my cell phone into a side pocket. All the rest I stuffed in the overnight bag. I walked quietly down the stairs to my car, hoping Gladys wouldn’t spot me in my get-up and ask any questions. I threw the overnight bag in the trunk and dropped the key to my room in the night box. The office was vacant, but the noise level through the glass told me Gladys was pinned to her television. Prime time for soaps.
I followed the original route mapped out by the sheriff. As I neared the turnoff to the drive, my palms became sweaty. If I stopped to think about what I was
doing, I’d lose courage. I wasn’t sure what my plan was, but I had to get inside. I was sure Eunice was there, and I was also sure she’d be ready to come home without a fuss. The difficulty would be getting her out unseen. I reviewed the possibilities in my mind. Worst case scenario, I could be attacked and hurt. If not by humans, then by dogs. Another possibility was that Eunice wasn’t there, but her note and my instincts told me she was.
If I were caught, what would they do? Call the sheriff? Charge me with trespassing? It wasn’t against the law to impersonate a nurse. Not like impersonating a police officer. As long as I didn’t try to practice medicine, I couldn’t see that I was doing anything terrible. I took a deep breath, pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road where it was hidden by a curve and some overgrown bushes, and turned off the engine. I rummaged in the glove compartment and found a short cord. I laced my car key onto it and tied the cord around my neck, tucking it under my uniform top. I found a small, flat mini flashlight and shoved that into my purse with the rest of the paraphernalia.
I climbed out and walked down the road to the driveway, and then walked casually up the rise to the chain-link fence. An older man with gray hair, wearing jeans and a heavy, checked shirt, was standing by the gate. I raised a hand in greeting. He looked at me cautiously before he undid the lock and chain. I wondered if he was part of the group or another local, like Duane.
“Where’s the other nurse?”
“She was called out on an emergency. I’m filling in.”
He hesitated a moment, looking my uniform over, then swung the gate open. “Let them know when you want to leave.”
“I will.” I smiled. Hitching my purse further up on my shoulder, I walked down the dirt drive toward the cabins. I could feel the guard’s eyes on my back as I walked. I continued on and resisted the urge to turn around. Near the bottom, the dirt road leveled out and curved slightly to the left. After I had walked several more yards, I glanced cautiously over my shoulder to make sure I was out of the guard’s line of sight.
Ahead of me, the road was lined on both sides with tiny cabins, reminiscent of the dollhouse cabin that Edie had rented. There must have been a time when Ardillas had been a tourist stop. But unlike Edie’s rental, these cabins were dilapidated, raw. Weatherbeaten wood was evident where the paint had peeled. Many of the wooden steps had rotted from exposure. Some of the small windows were cracked, pieces of tape holding them together. I doubted these cabins had any heat source, perhaps not even electricity. I shuddered to think what this environment could do to old bones.
On an impulse, I ducked behind the first cabin on the right. The weeds and brambles came up to my knees. The Army of the Prophet was in serious need of landscape help. I pressed my way through, thorns scraping my bare legs, and ducked into the trees behind the cabin. I kicked off my uniform shoes, which had already caused some blisters, and pulled on my socks, jeans, and sneakers. I took off the cap and dress and pulled on my T-shirt. I wrapped the long silk scarf in an X around my chest and, using it as a holster, stuck the wire cutters in a loop of the scarf under my arm. I wiggled around to make sure they were secure. Then I pulled my heavy black sweater over my head with the black knit cap. I shoved my cell phone in a front pocket of my jeans and the flashlight in the other. Then I balled up the uniform, cap, and shoes, stuffed them into my purse, and hid it under a bush. I made sure my car key was secure on the cord around my neck and tucked it into my bra under the T-shirt and sweater.
I tiptoed carefully toward the back of the cabin. Each one had the same small window in the rear wall. When I reached the cabin directly in front of me, I stood on tiptoe to peek inside. The walls of the room were unfinished. A naked light bulb hung from the ceiling. I noticed a hook on the back of the door, a cot, and a thin blanket. I walked carefully to the back of the next cabin, doing the best I could to tread softly, careful not to step on any twigs that might give my presence away. This cabin was empty as well, and displayed the same lack of personal belongings. These seemed to be nothing more than sleeping quarters. The real action must take place somewhere else.
I clambered up the rise and back into the stand of trees. It was growing dark by now and I could hear voices at a distance. From the trees and the higher vantage point, I saw a group of twenty or so people, all sizes and ages, walking toward a large building at the far end of the road. Several of them carried gardening tools. Behind them was a field of dark, loamy, freshly turned soil.
Once I was sure I was out of the line of sight of anyone returning from the field, I hurried out of the trees and down the slope to the last cabin, the third one in the row. Before I reached the back window, I heard a door hinge squeak. I ducked and held my breath. Then I peeked carefully around the corner of the building. On the other side of the dirt road stood an identical cabin. A woman stepped out and stood on the rickety wooden stairs. I recognized her instantly. It was Gudrun.
She peered up and down the road, more than likely searching for the vanished nurse. I waited, terrified of making any sound. After a few moments, she stepped back inside the primitive cabin and pulled the squeaking door shut.
I decided to huddle down and wait for the sun to set. In the dark, I might be able to check the rest of the cabins without difficulty, particularly if anyone turned on an interior light.
I managed to squat in a comfortable position behind the cabin. The minutes crawled by, and finally I heard the same door open across the way. I peeked cautiously from my hiding spot in time to see Gudrun striding down the road toward the larger building. Perhaps sunset signaled a time for an evening meal or prayer meeting. If Eunice was in that larger building, this could be a very long evening.
As soon as Gudrun was out of sight, I crept cautiously toward the dirt road and then darted across. No lights burned inside any of the cabins. I moved to the door of the first cabin in the row. It was bolted with a primitive wooden latch. I opened it and peeked inside, turning on my small flashlight. It was a repeat of what I’d seen across the road. There were two cots in this room, with thin blankets. No heater, one window in the rear, and a light bulb hanging from a long wire in the center. The second cabin was exactly the same and unoccupied.
The third cabin was the one I’d seen Gudrun leave. I opened the door, expecting to find it empty like the other two. But when I waved the flashlight over the cot, I saw a small form under the thin blanket.
I crept toward the bed and carefully lifted the threadbare blanket. My flashlight illuminated a cloud of soft white hair. It was Eunice, her hair in disarray. She was dressed only in a cotton shift. She made a small mewling sound and tried to focus her eyes. She was barely conscious. I shone the flashlight up to my face.
“Eunice, it’s me. Julia. I’m getting you out of here.”
Her eyes widened at the sound of my voice. “Julia?”
“Dorothy sent me. We’re going home.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I was. I pushed back the blanket and helped her to a sitting position. She was conscious, but her eyes were unfocused. She had been drugged. I was sure of it.
“Do you think you can walk?”
Eunice nodded and moaned. She clung to my sweater with both hands while I moved her legs carefully, placing her feet on the floor. Her bare legs and feet felt ice cold. I shone my small light around the floor and under the bed, but could find no shoes or slippers. I kicked myself for leaving the nurse’s shoes behind. “I’ll help you.”
I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. I could tell she was willing, but she seemed to lack the necessary motor skills. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to carry her, but I could hold her up and if her feet would move, we could make it out.
We moved toward the door of the cabin at an agonizingly slow pace. With one arm holding Eunice upright, I opened the door and peeked out. No one was nearby. With both arms, I hugged her to myself and lifted her down the stairs and around the corner to the back of the shack. She couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds, but nin
ety awkward pounds would be more than I could carry for any distance. Half lifting, half carrying, and stumbling with my burden, I reached the wooded area behind the shack. Eunice was now able to put one foot in front of the other, and we moved slowly into the trees.
My plan had been to head toward the main gate and find a secluded spot where the chain-link fence could be cut. Now I was afraid that this plan would take far too long. Gudrun already knew the nurse was missing and soon would realize her elderly convert was gone. The main gate would be the first place they’d look.
So I headed in the opposite direction. If I could reach the edge of the property at the rear, where the road ran past, perhaps I could leave Eunice safely for a few minutes and circle the fencing to retrieve my car. I realized with dismay that I should have parked on the road behind the compound and walked the distance to the main gate. With luck, maybe I could flag down a passing motorist. As I debated, I heard a shout and my blood ran cold.
FORTY-TWO
FOOTSTEPS POUNDED ALONG THE dirt road and another voice answered. Two men. We’d managed to put only thirty feet between ourselves and the shack. They would know Eunice was missing. They wouldn’t know I was with her.
Eunice was doing her very best to stay conscious and walk. “Eunice,” I whispered. “Climb on my back when I bend down.” I stopped, and, squatting, I hoisted her up piggyback style. She wrapped her arms around my neck. I was treading carefully in an effort to not give our position away.
The Madness of Mercury Page 21
