by Lisa Regan
He shrugged. “A little, you know. It wasn’t really for me. I like—I like it here.”
It certainly didn’t seem that way to Josie. She glanced over at Noah who was talking to a young woman in a faded red shirt and khaki capri pants. Her hands were folded at her waist and, like Tru, her eyes downcast and her answers almost monosyllabic. It was strange, women usually responded to Noah, with his affable, sweet nature and easy good looks.
“What do you do here, Tru?” Josie asked, turning back to the man.
“I, uh, maintain the grounds sort of. Like keeping the grass down in the common areas.”
“You must need a riding mower for that,” Josie remarked.
“No, no. We have push mowers.”
From where Josie stood, she could see that a great deal of the land was carefully tended. It would take days to mow it all with push mowers. Then again, with nothing to do but grow food and tend to the property, they probably had plenty of time to slog through a job like that. “Where do you sleep, Tru?” Josie asked.
He motioned behind him where a field stretched toward a tree line. Various colored tents peeked from beneath the trees.
“In a tent?” Josie clarified.
“Yes.”
She put her notebook away. “Were you sleeping in your tent last night?”
He nodded.
“Did you hear anything during the night?”
Now he looked at her. “Like what?”
“Anything unusual? Someone in the woods. Someone getting sick. Someone calling out.”
“Oh, uh, no. I slept all night.”
“What time did you go to bed?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We don’t have clocks here. We go by the sun.”
Of course.
Josie took her phone out and swiped until she found the photo of the Yates couple. She showed it to Tru. “Have you seen either of these people before?”
He studied the photos briefly and shook his head. “No. I haven’t. I don’t recognize them.”
She put her phone back into her pocket and wiped more sweat away from her eyes. “How often do you leave the Sanctuary?” she asked him.
His eyes snapped back toward her. “What?”
“How often do you leave here?”
His eyes were wide and earnest. “Oh, I don’t. I haven’t left since I got here.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I don’t want to leave.”
“You ever check out the woods beyond the fence?”
“No,” said Tru. “There’s no need to. Charlotte says it’s state gameland. We try to stay out of the way of hunters and stuff.”
She thanked him for his time and moved on to the next person, a woman named Jeanne Downey, in her forties, from Pittsburgh. She kept her answers just as brief as Tru. She’d been here for five years having struggled with opiate addiction after a back injury. She helped cook meals and mend clothing and tents. She stared at the photo of the Yates couple slightly longer than Tru had but then shook her head. “Never seen ‘em,” she said. “We done?”
“Not yet,” Josie said, taking her time putting the phone back into her pocket. “Where do you sleep, Jeanne?”
“House.”
“What time did you go to bed last night?”
“Don’t know a time. It was after dark. After dinner.”
She took her through the same questions she’d asked Tru, but the woman hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual, and she said she’d never been beyond the fencing. The moment Josie thanked her for her time, Jeanne walked off at a brusque pace, headed for the house. Next was Megan Rodriguez, a twenty-nine-year-old nurse from Hazelton who had struggled with fibromyalgia as well as depression and anxiety until she found the Sanctuary.
“Since I came here, I haven’t had any pain,” she explained.
“What would you attribute that to?” Josie asked.
Megan’s hands fluffed her long brown hair, lifting it off her neck and letting it fall. “I think the work Charlotte does with me.”
“Which is what?”
Her eyes went everywhere but Josie. “Yoga. Meditation. Also, we eat what we grow. I think the diet agrees with me.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A little over a year, I think. It’s hard to tell, but I came last spring and now it’s summer again.”
Megan was the commune nurse, helping tend to people’s scrapes and bruises; evaluating whether members needed more care than she could provide; driving members to the local hospital or clinic if necessary; dispensing medication but nothing stronger than Motrin or Tylenol. She slept in one of the tents, didn’t leave the commune, and hadn’t heard anything unusual in the last twenty-four hours. She did not recognize the Yates couple.
Josie looked over at Noah again who was busy questioning a sullen-looking African American man with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. Noah gave her a quick glance back and a barely perceptible shake of his head as if to say that he wasn’t getting anything useful either. With his pen, he gestured toward the barn doors where Josie thought she caught a movement just beyond the darkness of the open doors. She thanked Megan for her time and casually made her way over.
It was only slightly cooler inside the barn than outside. In the stalls where livestock would usually have been kept were cots with pillows and light blankets folded neatly on each one. The hay stores up in the loft were filled with cardboard boxes, and dull light leaked from a hanging lightbulb in the middle of the space. Josie blinked as her eyes adjusted. Slowly, she walked along the row of stalls. Only the last one on the left was occupied.
The woman was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, Josie estimated. She sat on the edge of the cot, hugging herself. Behind her lay a rumpled sheet. Her brown hair was dull and fell in limp waves against her shoulders. Her skin was so pale, she looked nearly translucent.
She didn’t look up when Josie walked into her private space. Instead, she began to rock gently back and forth, eyes on the wall across from her. A tan, long-sleeved man’s shirt covered her upper body and oversized khaki pants stretched to her ankles, bunching over a thick pair of boots.
“I’m Detective Josie Quinn,” she told the girl quietly.
The rocking stopped. She glanced up at Josie. She had blue eyes and a constellation of freckles along her right jawline. “Charlotte said to talk with you,” she replied flatly.
Josie took another small step forward. “Did she tell you what to say?”
There was a sharpening of her gaze, microscopic, but Josie caught it. “Wh-what?” she stammered.
“What’s your name?” Josie asked.
“Renee.”
“Renee what?”
“Kelly.”
“Well, Renee Kelly, it’s nice to meet you.”
The girl looked away and shifted her arms, uncrossing and recrossing them. Josie caught a flash of what looked like spots along the sleeve of her left arm. Dark. Red or brown. “Did you hurt yourself?” Josie asked.
Renee’s eyes flashed. “What?”
Josie took yet another step so that she was standing directly in front of the girl and pointed to her sleeve. “That looks like blood.”
Renee lifted her arm, saw the spots—Josie counted six of varying sizes—and then quickly pressed her arm against her body so that the stains were no longer visible. “I—I didn’t.”
“Did someone else hurt you?” Josie asked.
No response. Tentatively, Josie sat beside Renee. She waited for the girl to recoil but she didn’t. Their knees touched for a moment, and Josie let out a breath and relaxed her posture, trying her best to give off a calm vibe. Two women just chatting.
Josie looked around the stall. “Is this where you always sleep?”
Renee nodded.
“I’d rather be in here than in a tent. Who are your roommates?”
She rattled off a few names that Josie didn’t recognize, both male and female. Josie said, “Is it weird sleeping in here with men?”
Renee
shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“I’m from Denton,” Josie told her. “How about you?”
“Cherry Hill,” she mumbled.
“Is that in New Jersey?”
A nod.
“How old are you, Renee?”
“Nineteen.”
She was talking, at least.
“Do you like it here?”
A vigorous nod.
“I guess I can see the appeal,” Josie said. “It’s beautiful. Quiet. Getting back to basics, back to nature. Not sure I could stop my mind from racing though. I have a real problem with that.”
Josie saw the smallest curve of a smile begin to form at the corner of Renee’s mouth. “Charlotte says you guys do a lot of meditation. I’ve never tried it. Does it do any good?”
Renee met her eyes. “I think it does. I like the guided meditation the best. If I don’t have a guide, my mind goes right back to circling.”
Josie laughed softly. “That sounds like the kind for me too. It seems like everyone has a job here. Garden, kitchen, lawn care. How about you?”
“Oh, I help in the garden or in the greenhouse.”
“What brought you here?”
“I felt like I wasn’t really doing anything with my life. I couldn’t afford to go to college. I was working a bunch of crappy jobs that I didn’t like for almost no money. I got arrested for a DUI and someone in my counseling program told me about this place. It sounded perfect.”
“Has that been your experience? Would you say it’s perfect here?”
Her arms wrapped more tightly around her body. The rocking began once more. When Josie touched her shoulder, she flinched. “Renee,” Josie said softly. “If there’s something happening to you that you’re not comfortable with, I can help you. You can walk out of here with me right now.”
Nothing.
“I can protect you.”
A whisper slipped from Renee’s lips, barely audible. Josie couldn’t be sure exactly what the girl said but she swore it sounded like, “No you can’t.”
“We don’t have to talk here,” Josie whispered, standing up to look over the other stall walls to check they were still alone. She extended a hand to Renee. “Come with me. We’ll go for a walk or a ride if you’d like. I can tell there’s something bothering you, Renee. I’d like to help.”
A long awkward silence stretched out between them. Josie said, “Want to show me your arm? I could get some bandages from Megan.”
“No, no,” Renee said quickly. “Please.”
Josie waited another minute, but Renee didn’t speak again. Her rocking continued unabated. Finally, Josie took out her phone and pulled up the photo of Tyler and Valerie Yates, turning it toward Renee. “Do you recognize either of these people?”
She studied the photo for a few seconds and shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Did you see or hear anything unusual last night or this morning?”
“No.”
Josie pointed to the loft area above Renee’s stall. “What’s up there?”
“Supplies. Medications, old clothes, extra cots, blankets.”
“Do you mind?” Josie said, pointing to the ladder.
Renee shrugged.
Josie put her phone back into her pocket and climbed the wooden ladder. The heat in the loft pressed in on her as she walked carefully around to ensure that no one was hiding there. She flipped open a few of the boxes and found that Renee was right. It was merely a storage space for supplies. Back on the barn floor, Josie studied Renee again. She thought about giving her a business card, but she wasn’t sure that would do the girl any good.
“Renee,” she said. “When people come here, what do they do with their cell phones?”
“We destroy them.”
“What if you have an emergency?”
“We have a few drivers who can take people to the hospital. Don’t get many emergencies though. Since I’ve been here, we only had one guy rupture his appendix. Megan took him to the ER. He was fine.”
“What if you wanted to leave?”
“Charlotte or someone else would take us into the nearest town and drop us there.”
“Do you want to leave?”
No answer.
Josie took out a card anyway and placed it in the girl’s lap. “My cell phone number is on there. If you’re in trouble and you’re able to get to a phone, call me. Any time. Day or night.”
Renee stared down at the card, her expression wavering from flat to distressed to hopeful and back to vacant. Josie turned to leave. As she reached the barn doors, she thought she heard Renee’s voice again. “Th-thank you.”
Nine
Outside, Noah was still interviewing Sanctuary members. A light touch on Josie’s shoulder drew her attention, and she turned to find Charlotte standing close behind her. “Detective, one of my people tells me there is a breach in our fencing. He discovered it a week ago. Would you like to see it? I can walk you there while your colleague has a look around the property?”
Noah was only a few feet away, and Josie caught the warning glance he gave her. But she felt no threat from Charlotte. The woman was odd, for sure, but Josie couldn’t see Charlotte attempting to harm her while Noah was on the premises, even though Josie was certain that something bad was happening to Renee Kelly. She couldn’t prove it, but even if she was right, she doubted that whoever was hurting Renee would attempt to harm either Josie or Noah, especially since they’d shown up on official police business. A glance at the sky left her unsettled, but she hadn’t heard any thunder or seen any flashes of lightning, so she still had time to search. “That would be great,” Josie said, then loudly so Noah would overhear her, she added, “My colleague will have a look at the greenhouse and those cabins you mentioned.”
“Of course,” said Charlotte. She extended an arm, motioning toward the grassy field on the other side of the barn. Josie began to walk through the grass. Ahead of them, a line of trees came into view. As they walked closer, Josie could see several small tents erected beneath the shade of the trees. A few people had even put up clothes lines between the trees where their threadbare clothing hung. There were some camping chairs and a hammock. Josie did a quick count, noting about fifteen tents in all.
“Not all of them stay in the tents, as I said,” Charlotte said. “We have the house and the barn.”
For a fleeting moment Josie wondered if the woman was psychic—or was Josie just that easy for her to read?
“It’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Charlotte asked.
“What’s that?” Josie replied without meeting the woman’s eyes.
“I see your questions on your face.”
Josie managed a tight smile. “I didn’t think I was that transparent.”
“I imagine you’re not. I’ve had a lot of practice reading people. I hope you don’t find it too intrusive.”
“It’s fine,” Josie said.
As they picked their way past the tents and into the woods, Charlotte said, “Some of the residents share tents. I don’t encourage relationships, but I don’t discourage them either.”
“There are no children here, are there?” Josie asked.
“I do discourage children. I have no experience with them, and I’m not sure this is the best place for them. I work with adults who are working through serious personal and emotional issues. If someone is ready to have a family, they don’t belong here.”
“If one of your people got pregnant, would you make them leave?” Josie asked.
“Not until they had somewhere to go. I’m not cruel. I would work with them in any way I could to make sure they had somewhere safe to go.”
“Have any of your people ever gotten pregnant?”
“A few, over the years. It always worked out.”
“As far as you know.”
They were deep in the forest now, and Josie no longer had a clear view of the sky beyond the tree tops. She wondered how many miles she’d walked today so far. It felt like a
hundred. She and Noah still had so much work to do when they got back to the station. Hoping to speed up the process, Josie walked faster. Charlotte kept up easily, and with some irritation, Josie noticed she wasn’t even sweating. A few minutes later they came to the fence. Charlotte pointed to the left and Josie began following the fence in that direction, pulling out her GPS so she could see how far they were from the campsite—roughly four miles.
“How much longer till we get to the break?” Josie asked.
Charlotte smiled serenely. “Not much. You don’t enjoy being out here? You spent a lot of time in the wilderness in your youth, didn’t you?”
Josie raised a brow. “Figuratively or literally?”
“Both.”
“Yes,” Josie said. “I did. No, I don’t enjoy it. I don’t enjoy this heat, it’s going to storm soon, and I have a lot of work still to do today.”
“Is that all?” Charlotte asked.
“Is what all?”
“There’s something else, isn’t there? You’re… struggling with something.”
“I’m not…” But Josie didn’t finish the sentence as her nightmare and the missed calls from Muncy prison came rushing back at her.
“I may be able to help you,” Charlotte said. “If you’d like to talk about it.” She stopped walking. Josie took two steps ahead of her before realizing she had paused. She turned back to find Charlotte staring at her with an unnerving steadiness, her dark eyes pensive pools. “It’s to do with that wilderness, isn’t it? The dark time in your youth. Figuratively.”
Josie felt an involuntary shiver run the length of her spine and hoped Charlotte didn’t sense it. She was beginning to feel completely disarmed and thrown off by this strange woman who smiled as though she knew something Josie did not, who didn’t sweat in ninety-degree weather, and who seemed to know Josie’s thoughts before Josie had time to articulate them. “Listen,” Josie said. “I’m here as part of an investigation. We have two dead bodies and a missing female who may be ill. I don’t have time for this.”
Charlotte remained in place, still as a statue. “You’ve never made time for it, don’t you see that?” She took a step toward Josie and touched her cheek, where the long, faded scar ran from Josie’s ear to beneath her chin. She wanted to recoil, but her feet were frozen in place. “Now things are coming to an end of some sort, aren’t they? Whatever it is, you’ll only have one chance at it, and you’re wondering whether you should take it or not.”
