by L C Hayden
Swanson nodded as though acknowledging Bronson’s statement. But instead of answering, he intertwined his fingers. “I’m sure you’ve met Aubrey Hamilton.”
Bronson glanced around the room. Apparently, Aubrey had led him here and closed the door behind her as she was nowhere in the room. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. I’m sure you two will get along just fine. She’s your go-to contact while you’re here. She will get you anything—within reason, of course—that will make your stay more comfortable. After the meeting, she will show you to your room. There, you’ll find your suitcase.”
“Along with my gun and knife?”
“I have those locked away. When you leave, I’ll return them to you.”
“And what if I need them?”
Swanson frowned. “Really, Mr. Bronson. We’re a peaceful society. I guarantee you there’s no need for your weapons.”
“What about my phone? I guarantee you that I don’t have an app that will destroy your paradise.”
Swanson let out a small, forced laugh. “Ah, you’re a man with a sense of humor. I like that. It’s a good trait to have.” He sat down. “Let’s get down to business.”
“Yes, let’s. I have quite a few unanswered questions,” Bronson said.
“I’ll begin with introductions. You’ve met Everett.”
Everett nodded Bronson a hello. Bronson nodded back.
Swanson pointed to the third man in the room. “This is Charlie Yee, and I am Darryl Swanson. Our two other Elders, Nathaniel Middleton and Sheridan Wright, are missing because they’re getting the supplies we need to properly run this place. The five of us together, we supervise Eric’s Landing. We’ve existed here peacefully for fifty-two years. We’ve never had any crimes here, until recently. Roger Cobb Hallberg, one of our youths, stole a very valuable book from us. I’m not quite sure why he’d do that. It’s absolutely no value to anyone but us. It tells our history. We’d like to get it back just for the sentimental value.”
“Has Roger admitted to takin’ the book?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“What makes you think he did it?”
“Because the book disappeared on the same day Roger did.”
Bronson felt as if he had been punched in the face. “So I’m here to find Roger, not the book.”
Swanson shrugged. “You find one, you’ll find the other.”
“Any ideas where he’d be hidin’?”
“Not any place we can think of. We’ve checked every place and nothing. No Roger.”
Bronson looked out the window. “You mean he’s outside of the compound.”
“Compound is a harsh word, Mr. Bronson. We’re a community.”
“How easy is it to get out of this—community?”
“Not hard at all,” Yee spoke for the first time. “If you follow proper procedure. In fact, Virginia is leaving us today.”
“Who’s Virginia?” Bronson reached for the spiral notebook and pen he always kept in his shirt pocket and jotted down the important information. He scolded himself. He knew better. He should have been taking notes from the beginning.
“No one to be concerned about,” Swanson said. “Her mother got sick and Virginia wants to go spend some time with her. Charlie mentioned her only to show you that no one is held prisoner here.”
“You mentioned anyone can leave if proper procedure is followed. Define proper procedure.”
“They simply tell us that they want to go, and where and when they want leave. We drug them, as we did you. This way, they can’t tell others where we are. When they wake up, they’re wherever they need to be—or at least close to the place.”
Bronson wrote down fence locked on his notebook. “So they can’t simply walk out the front gate.”
“No, that’s impossible. A fence surrounds the community, and it’s electrified.”
Bronson added to his list electric fence. “Oh really? Sounds like a prison to me.”
Swanson leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Mr. Bronson, you obviously don’t understand. The woods that surround us are very dangerous. Wild animals roam freely. The electric fence is to keep them out, and it’s not meant to keep our residents in. They all know that, and they understand.”
“But is it possible for someone to sneak out unnoticed?”
“No, it’s not.”
Bronson set his pen and notebook down. “Then what you’re sayin’ is that Roger—and the book—are hidin’ here someplace.”
“All we know is that we’ve searched everywhere and have come up empty handed. Then again, we’re not trained detectives like you. We’re probably overlooking something very obvious to someone like you.”
Bronson returned his notebook and pen to his shirt pocket. “I’d like to talk to Roger’s parents.”
Swanson shrugged. “Roger, like most young ones here, doesn’t have any parents.”
“What happened to all of the parents?” Bronson asked.
“A lot of our youths are runaways. The street was their home. They had no food, no clothes, no hope, no place to call their own. We pick them up and bring them here. We give them all that they didn’t have before. They’re happy here.”
“If Roger is an orphan—or at least as far as you know—then who’s responsible for him?”
“We all are,” Yee said. “We’re one big family.”
“In that case, you as the family won’t mind showing me Roger’s room, right? And oh, I’ll also need the names of Roger’s best friends and his girlfriend, if there’s one.”
“No problem. We’ll take you to the house Roger shares with five other boys his age. You can definitely talk to them, but I doubt you’ll learn anything new. Roger is a very private person, and he hardly talked to them, but he did hang around his girlfriend all of the time. We already talked to her. She was of no help.”
“Maybe I can learn somethin’ new.” Bronson reached for his pen and notebook, ready to record the information. “What’s her name?”
“Norma Orr Karsteter.”
Randig’s granddaughter. Interesting.
Chapter 8
Bronson decided not to waste any time. School should still be in session, and that would be the best place to approach Norma. “Aubrey will show you where the school building is,” Swanson said.
As though on cue, Aubrey stepped in. “Where would you like to go, Mr. Bronson?”
“He wants to talk to Norma. She’s in school. Take him there.” Swanson stood, and immediately the other two Elders shot to their feet.
Bronson purposely remained sitting down. Slowly, he clicked his pen, stuffed it in his shirt pocket, closed his notebook, opened it, skimmed the notes, closed the notebook once again, and also placed it in his shirt pocket. He stood up. “Yes, Aubrey, that’s exactly where I want to go. Maybe you can give me a tour of the place as we head to the school buildin’.” He glanced at Aubrey, looking for any reaction to his request. None came, except that her eyes were now the deepest brown he’d ever seen.
They both headed out and stood outside, absorbing the warm sunshine. “This is a fairly small place.” Aubrey indicated the area with a wave of her hand. “We have approximately thirty buildings. Most are housing apartments, with a huge recreation center where all of our meals are served. It opens up to what we call the patio, a place where we all gather to visit and play games. The school itself is almost directly behind us. Would you like to head that way?”
“Most definitely.” Bronson nodded.
As they rounded the corner, Bronson realized any of these buildings could be harboring the culprit. The problem was not finding him, but figuring out why he had stolen that book. “Do you know Roger?”
“Of course. We’re a small community. Everyone here knows everyone.”
“What is your opinion of him?”
“He’s very quiet and very smart. Genius smart, I’d say. He keeps to himself. Outside of Norma, I don’t think he has any real friends here.”
“Is that normal?”
She squinted as though trying to figure out how to answer. “When someone new comes here, they normally keep to themselves, but eventually they learn to let go. They make friends. They become part of us.”
“But not Roger.”
Aubrey shook her head. “Not Roger.”
“Why do you suppose that is?”
“Like I said, Roger is somewhat of an intellect. He’s way above us. I suppose he recognizes that—or we do. Either way, he doesn’t fit in.” She stopped. “This is it. The school.” She pointed to the door beside them.
“Thanks for the tour and the information.” Bronson reached for the doorknob. “I can take it from here.”
Aubrey stopped him from opening the door. “You’re a stranger, and you might frighten the teacher and the students. It’d be best if I introduced you.”
Dang! “You have a point.” He had wanted to talk to Norma alone so that he could deliver Grandpa Randig’s message to her. Once he showed her the note, she’d be likely to be more receptive. But she certainly wouldn’t if Aubrey hung around. Maybe after introductions were made, he’d get Aubrey to leave.
Aubrey opened the door and stuck her head in. “Is it okay if we come in?” Without waiting for an answer, she stepped in. Bronson followed, and all eyes pivoted toward him.
“I’d like to introduce you to Harry Bronson. He’ll be our guest for a couple of days, and Master Swanson wants us all to give him our undying cooperation.”
“Hello, Mr. Bronson,” the class resided in unison. “Welcome to Eric’s Landing.”
Bronson absorbed every detail of the room. It looked like an average classroom except for the mixture of students. Some seemed as young as eight or nine. Others seemed ready to graduate. In a room of about fifty students, only five or six were males. The rest—the females— had one thing in common. They were, in their own way, beautiful. “Thank you for the warm welcome,” Bronson said. “I’m here to talk to Norma Orr Karsteter. Which of you is Norma?”
The teacher, an elderly lady with solid gray hair, stepped forward. “Actually, she didn’t come to class today. I thought maybe she was sick. I was going to stop and talk to her father after I dismissed school.”
Oh, oh. Bronson didn’t like where this was heading. “Thank you, ma’am. Sorry I disrupted your class.”
“Not to worry. We never get any strangers here. It’s rather nice to see one.”
Bronson smiled, saluted her, and walked out, and closed the door behind him. He turned to Aubrey. “Would Mr. Karsteter be home now?”
“Not likely. He’s our main cook. He should be preparing dinner now.”
“So Norma would be home alone?”
“Probably.”
“Let’s go visit her, then.”
Chapter 9
The Karsteters’ home turned out to be a huge apartment complex that housed most of the community’s residents. Theirs was Apartment #33.
Bronson knocked on the door, but no one answered.
“No one locks their doors around here,” Aubrey said. “You can go in.”
Bronson hesitated. Community or not, this was still their private space.
Aubrey smiled. “I like your modesty.” She opened the door and stepped into the three-room apartment, which was basically one large room separated more by furniture rather than walls. The bedroom areas had privacy curtains between the two beds.
Aubrey looked around. “Norma? Are you here?”
Both the bedroom and the living areas were empty. Bronson spotted a closed door, which he assumed led to the bathroom. He knocked. No answer. He stepped aside and Audrey opened the door.
No one there.
“Let’s go talk to her dad,” Bronson said. “He should know where she is.”
“Of course he will. She’s probably helping out in the kitchen. She often does that.”
* * *
The kitchen, located two doors down, was a large rectangular room filled with large tables and chairs, school cafeteria style. Swinging doors led to the actual kitchen where eight people competed for counter or stove space. Three huge refrigerator doors opened and closed as people either inserted or took out required items.
An Asian lady was the first one to spot Bronson. She gasped, and everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Bronson.
“It’s okay,” Aubrey said. “This is Harry Bronson. He’s Master Swanson’s guest. He wants you to fully cooperate with him.”
No one moved. They continued to stare.
“Actually, I’m here to talk to Mr. Karsteter. Are you here?”
A slightly overweight man stepped around the counter. “I’m Chris Karsteter. What can I help you with?”
“Can we talk? Out in the dining room?”
Chris blinked several times. “Of course.” He wiped his hands and followed Bronson and Aubrey out. “I know who you are,” he said. “You’re the one my father-in-law recommended to come help us find Roger.”
“That’s correct,” Bronson answered.
“I know my daughter is dating him, but I can’t tell you anything about him. It’d be best if you talk to Norma.” He looked at his watch. “If you hurry, you can catch her at school.”
A frown formed on Aubrey’s forehead. “We just came from there. Ms. Louise told us she didn’t show up for class. We thought maybe Norma felt sick so she stayed home. She wasn’t there either. We were hoping she was here.”
Chris’ eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
Norma, like Roger, had disappeared.
Chapter 10
Bronson, with Aubrey as a tag along, spent the rest of the day talking to Roger’s roommates and acquaintances. The roommates had gathered in their three room apartment and patiently listened to Bronson’s questions. None knew anything about Roger’s disappearance, nor did they seem overly concerned. Still, Bronson promised them that he would do his best to bring him back. That didn’t impress anyone.
Aubrey leaned against the wall and sighed, looking a bit bored.
“What about Norma?” Bronson asked.
“Cool chick,” said one of Roger’s roommates.
“And very cute too,” another answered.
A third one stretched and placed his hands behind his head. “There’s no news there. Everyone here is either really good looking or just plain cute.”
Bronson had noticed and wondered why that was so. He made a mental note to follow up on that.
“Yep, all good looking. Lucky us,” said the first.
Bronson smiled. At least they were typical teens. “Do any of you know where she is?”
The fourth roommate stood up and walked toward the window. “She didn’t come to school. We assumed she was helping her dad or was playing hooky and stayed in bed. She can’t be far. This is a small place.”
“If you were going to hide, where would you hide?” Bronson asked.
The tallest of the teens made an exaggerated face. “Why would we hide?”
The rest of the teens laughed.
Typical teens. “Humor me. Let’s just say you wanted to hide. Where would you go?”
The roommates eyed each other. “No place that we can think of. Under the bed?” They all laughed once again.
“Has anyone else disappeared?” Bronson asked.
The youth by the window said, “People come and go all of the time. But no one has disappeared.”
“Except for Roger,” another said.
“And now Norma.” Bronson returned his pen and notebook to his pocket and stood up. “Let me know if you hear anythin’.”
Silence followed him and Aubrey out the door.
Chapter 11
As they walked out, Bronson turned to Aubrey. “I’d like to see all of the surveillance tapes this place has. Can you arrange that?”
Aubrey flashed him a curious look. “We don’t have any. Why would we? What possible use would we have for them?” She brushed her hair away from her face with her fingers. A breeze blew and
returned strands of her hair to her face. She smiled and her eyes sparkled.
“Is it always this windy here?” Bronson asked.
“No, not really, but we do get a few breezes. I don’t mind them—at least not at this time of the year. It’s during the winter when we get a lot of snow and it’s really cold that I mind them.”
Bronson looked at the impossibly blue sky. “What time is it? I don’t have my watch and I don’t want it to get dark on me before I finish with my interrogations.”
Aubrey threw her head back and laughed. “You were out of it when you arrived yesterday so you didn’t have a chance to notice. The sun at this time of the year won’t set until past eleven. You still have plenty of sunshine left.”
“And the days are only goin’ to get longer,” Bronson said.
“True.” She stopped. “It’s almost supper time. Do you want to head to the dining area?”
“Will I be able to get a cup of coffee there?”
“You bet.”
“Then let’s head to the dining area.” Bronson’s world brightened. “Will the Elders be there?”
“Of course. We all dine together.”
“Good, because I want to talk to them. Too bad we’re goin’ to be inside. It’s really beautiful out here. Do you like bein’ outdoors?”
“Love it.”
“Especially durin’ winter, eh?”
“It’s too cold then.”
“Yeah, but I bet you get a gorgeous view of the Aurora Borealis.”
“I’ve seen the lights so many times, it’s nothing really special.”
Bingo! Bronson knew where he was. Had to be Alaska or maybe upper Canada. It made sense. The long days, the cold winters, the Northern Lights, the wild, unchartered lands that surrounded the compound. Bronson didn’t know why he felt better now that he knew where he was or at least thought he knew. Maybe he felt he was making progress. “How long was I out?”
“You arrived last night. You were awake this morning.”
“What’s today?”
Aubrey looked at her watch. “May 22.”
