Imprints

by Rachel Ann Nunes

“Actually, my mother died when I was eleven. I’m an only child. Adopted. I don’t have extended family.” No family now, in fact, except Tawnia and our birth mother’s family, whom we hadn’t been able to trace.

  “I see.” Dar smiled benevolently at me, the line between his eyes deepening. If I hadn’t suspected him, I would see his expression as concern not calculation. I knew better. In a matter of a few minutes, he’d flattered me, pinpointed my useful talents, learned I had no relatives, and had probed my economic situation. Not bad.

  Now it was my turn to lay the groundwork for my joining them. “I think it must be nice to live in a group like yours. My parents sort of raised me that way, you know. They were hippies, I guess you’d say. I miss them a lot.”

  Dar reached out to lay a hand on my shoulder. “It’s hard to lose those you love. But you are not alone.”

  I let my eyes fill with tears I hadn’t known were so close. Fake tears, I assured myself.

  “You are welcome to join us tonight for a meeting,” Dar continued. “I can introduce you to all our friends.”

  My heart thumped. This was the invitation I’d been expecting. “I wouldn’t want to intrude. I mean, if you’re having a meeting.”

  “No intrusion at all. We love having visitors. The meeting is actually to explain to people what we do. It’s open to everyone.”

  “Well, in that case, I might come.”

  Dar shuffled through the flyers in his hand. “Here’s our flyer. The address is right there.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled.

  “I really hope to see you tonight.” Again, he touched me on the shoulder with his free hand. I wondered if that was supposed to make me swoon or something because, if so, he was utterly failing. For all his interest in herbs and organic food, he wasn’t my type. Maybe this casual clasp was supposed to express brotherhood and make me feel as though I might belong. I was still smiling, after all.

  His smile faltered, and I had the urge to whirl around to look for the cause, but he was staring at my throat. “Did you, uh, hurt yourself?” he asked.

  Thinking fast, I said, “Just a guy I know. He got a little upset. Still don’t know why. It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” Again close enough to the truth.

  “Come tonight,” Dar said softly. “You’ll be safe there. Among friends.”

  I nodded, and his hand dropped from my shoulder as I backed away. Several blocks later, I sat down for a moment to see if I was being followed. At least that’s what I told myself. The real truth is that I was shaking from the strain of the encounter. I’d never been good at lying or hiding my emotions, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  I was also worried about going home that night. Whatever I had told Jake, I was afraid of Inclar.

  My phone buzzed in the pocket of my pants, so I pulled it out. Tawnia. Sighing, I slipped in the tiny earphone that I always tried to remember to use just in case people were right about the danger of using cell phones. “Hello?”

  “Is everything okay?” Tawnia blurted. “I’ve been having weird images in my head all morning. When I tried to draw a face for the character in the underwear ad, this really ugly, skinny guy came out. Then I drew that weird detective who has the hots for you, the one whose picture you showed me in the newspaper.”

  My mood lightened. “His name is Shannon Martin, but since you’ve never met him, maybe you could go ahead and use him in the ad.” That Shannon would hate it only made the idea more amusing.

  “And risk a lawsuit from a police detective? I’m not crazy. I put my team on the ad instead. So what’s going on?”

  I debated exactly what to tell her. If she knew I’d been attacked she’d worry, but if I kept it from her, she’d kill me when she found out. Besides, with my great experience at fabrication, she’d see right through me.

  So I outlined Inclar’s attack as quickly and succinctly as possible. “Shannon’s checking out where he lives now, and my place. Jake refuses to let me stay at the apartment alone, so—”

  “You’ll come here.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of a hotel. They have a really inexpensive one near here where the commune people are staying and—”

  “You’re not still going through with that!”

  “I have to, Tawnia. If you could talk to them, you’d see they aren’t all bad. There might be something funny going on, but there’s a good chance they’re on the up and up. If there is something weird going on, it might be limited to one or two people who are taking advantage of the rest. If I can help Marcie and Victoria, or even just give their families peace of mind, then I want to do it.”

  “Okay, okay, but did you tell the police this crazy idea? I’d feel better knowing they were in on it.”

  “No. But Ethan has all sorts of equipment. I’ll be okay.”

  Tawnia gave a sigh. “You know, this is the real difference between us, Autumn. Your parents raised you to trust people you don’t know, to expect them to be their best, while mine taught me to mistrust everyone until they prove themselves. That might not have been the best way, but some people don’t deserve to be trusted.”

  “I know that.” I’d learned it only too well after the bridge bombing. But completely mistrusting others, believing they’ll always let you down, wasn’t my idea of a life. “I made you a promise not to take chances, and I won’t. Trust me. Look, I’ve got to get going. Ethan’s taking me out to lunch.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “It’s just business.”

  “No, it’s not. I can tell from your voice. You like him.” She laughed. “Anyway, don’t leave with those weirdos before we talk again, okay?”

  “Of course not. I’m going to hear their spie1 tonight. I’ll call you later and let you know how it goes.”

  I hung up with relief. I loved having a sister, but I wasn’t accustomed to justifying my decisions.

  * * *

  “I’m still nailing down some additional equipment from some guys I know,” Ethan said, waving his fork in a strangely appealing way. Of course, everything about him was appealing. Not the least of which was that we were at Smokey’s across from my shop, and I’d just finished one of their incredible organic meat pies, a glass of fresh lemonade (made from lemons untreated with chemical pesticides), and a huge piece of chocolate cake (cocoa, honey, and whole wheat flour). The restaurant wasn’t as perfect for organic nutrition as eating at home, but it came pretty close. The price tag was steep, but the fact that I wasn’t paying put me in a good mood.

  “I want to be ready by tomorrow morning, just in case,” Ethan was saying. “I have no idea when they’ll take their next bunch of recruits, but they’ve been in Portland for three weeks, as near as I can tell, and usually that’s all the time they stay in one area.”

  “Do they market their stuff on Sundays?” Belatedly, I realized they weren’t a religion, so they probably didn’t care about the Sabbath.

  “Yes. It’s probably a big day for them, actually.”

  “Then they won’t leave until that night.”

  “They may not leave at all, or only some of them will leave to get new supplies. Maybe you can find out.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  After he’d paid our bill, we walked across the street where he’d parked his BMW. He opened the door. “We forgot to fix your car.”

  Oh, yeah. The dead battery.

  “How about tonight I drive you to a couple of blocks from the hotel for your meeting?” he said. “Then you can call me when you’re finished, and I’ll pick you up. We can deal with the car afterward.”

  As long as he was my chauffeur, I was not in any hurry. “Fine by me.”

  “Well, thanks for coming to lunch with me and for doing all this. For the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet.” But it was fun, both the mystery and spending time with Ethan. I wonder what would happen between us once this was all over.

  He slid into his seat, his smil
e turning to a grimace. Reaching under him, he pulled out a rather large prescription bottle. “Oops.”

  “What’s that?” I hoped it wasn’t anything serious. If I were Tawnia, I’d be thinking that it was just my luck to finally meet a guy I liked and who apparently liked me, only to have him dying of some rare disease.

  “Some old medication of Marcie’s.” He held it up briefly before tossing the bottle into the glove compartment. I heard the clink of the pills inside.

  “Was Marcie ill when she left?” I asked. Maybe that explained why she was in pain in Tawnia’s picture. Though I wasn’t a fan of conventional medicine, I knew that some medication was necessary and should be finished completely. I didn’t recognize the label—it said phenelzine, or something like that.

  “I think it was stuff to help her sleep,” he said.

  I could imagine why she’d want that. Nights had been the hardest for me in the days after the death of each of my parents. But I’d still had Winter after Summer died, and I had Tawnia by the time Winter’s body was discovered in the river. I was glad Marcie had Ethan. At least she hadn’t been completely alone.

  I was also happy that Ethan didn’t think to offer me the pill bottle to read, but he couldn’t know that most people had powerful feelings about their medication and often the imprints left on the bottles were startlingly clear. Maybe when I was feeling up to it, I’d ask to see the bottle again.

  “Well, I’ll see you tonight.” He leaned over and gave me a quick, unexpected kiss on the cheek that sent a little jolt to my heart. Definitely something there.

  I watched him drive away before walking into the store. As I reached for the door, I glimpsed Jake through the window of his store. Had he seen the kiss? It could have been anything, really. Jake himself had kissed my cheek at one time or another. Did he read something more into Ethan’s gesture? I told myself I didn’t care, but I wasn’t being honest with myself. Not really.

  Inside, Thera was waiting for me so she could leave. Since she would likely be working overtime next week while I was out of town, she was going to spend the weekend with her daughter and grandchild.

  I put on an apron in the back and began cleaning the two silver metal side chairs I’d found earlier in the week at an estate sale. They were Anglo-Indian style, twentieth century, with ram heads curving inward on the top of the back as though to embrace their occupants. Both could use reupholstering, but the five hundred bucks for the pair had been a steal. Once I’d carefully cleaned the silver without removing the patina, I would double or triple my profit. That is, if I didn’t fall too much in love with them myself. I was reading a book on upholstering to see if maybe I could attempt changing the fabric on my own instead of taking them to one of my contacts, but I had to be very careful. Like most antiques dealers, I often walked a fine line between making things appealing to customers and destroying the value.

  After more than two hours of cleaning, I was relieved to hear the bell to my door. Good, a customer. I threw down my rag and pulled off my rubber gloves, tossing them into the garbage can under the table.

  Not a customer, as it turned out, but a man asking for directions to the nearest pharmacy. I pointed him down the street, keeping my smile plastered on my face until he left. Plastered because all at once I was exhausted. I pushed myself up onto my stool and leaned against the counter.

  My computer was on, though the screen saver was up. I moved the mouse and brought up my Internet browser. What had the name of that drug been? Phen-something. I was pretty sure it had ended in a zine. In a few minutes I had it on the screen: phenelzine, an antidepressant drug. Not sleeping pills, as Ethan thought.

  “Ah,” I said, though the information wasn’t surprising. Marcie had been a woman in severe distress—I’d seen that from the little ring. Reading further on the page, I learned that an abrupt cessation of an antidepressant could cause serious side effects. That could explain Tawnia’s picture.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I typed in Ethan’s name and Willamette University. His name came up on a dozen different sites, highlighted in the browser listings. I nodded. See, Jake. He is who he says he is.

  I didn’t click on any of the pages because I didn’t see the point. Besides, Jake was coming through our adjoining doorway, so I quickly exited the Internet.

  “Pretty dead, huh?” Jake said.

  “You busy? Need my help?” I craned my neck to see if there were customers in the Herb Shoppe.

  “No.” He ran a finger over a small section of desk. “Randa’s got it.”

  I waited some more, wondering what he’d come to say.

  “About Ethan,” he began.

  Ah, of course.

  “Are you sure about him?”

  “I did some checking. He is at Willamette University. But don’t worry. I’m just helping him out. That’s all.”

  “It looked more serious than that a few hours ago.”

  There, it was out. What he’d come to say.

  I forced a laugh. “He kissed me on the cheek, Jake. Besides, if I had a dollar for every guy who tried to kiss me, I would be on the beach in Hawaii all winter. It didn’t mean anything.” At least not yet.

  “Nothing wrong with your ego.” He was teasing me as I imagined a brother would do. I’d grown to hate that over the past few months.

  “You wouldn’t understand my fatal attraction,” I said. “Since we’re friends, I mean. But believe me, I’m a magnet for men.” I bent down to retrieve my handbag, mostly so I wouldn’t have to see his reaction, or lack of one. “You know what? It’s so slow today that I think I’m going home to get ready for the meeting with the commune people tonight.” I’d told him about that before my lunch date with Ethan, and he hadn’t raised the expected objections. “Maybe I’ll take a nap. I’m a little tired, and I don’t know how long those things last. Do you want me to leave the connecting door open? Or should I shut it? I don’t mind closing early if it’s too much inconvenience. There’s only an hour left.”

  “You’re going to your apartment? On your own?” He leaned forward, his elbows on my counter and his dark hands coming to rest near my paler ones.

  “Yeah.” I stifled a yawn.

  “What about your car?”

  That’s right. I’d forgotten. I’d have a bit of a walk.

  “Didn’t we decide it’s not a good idea for you to be there alone? I’ll take you. No, don’t protest. Randa can take care of things here. I doubt it’s going to pick up. Friday afternoons are always slow.”

  I didn’t protest, not because I wanted him to take control but because I was the tiniest bit afraid that Inclar would return to finish the job—whatever that had been.

  When we drove up to the apartment, all the nearby parking stalls were taken, two by police cars and another by a white, unmarked vehicle similar to the one I’d seen Shannon Martin drive. Sure enough, I spotted him coming from my building.

  “Over there,” I directed Jake. “There’s a spot.”

  He pulled into it. “Wonder why so many police are here.”

  “Guess we’re going to find out.”

  Shannon watched us approach without expression, but his aqua eyes were as compelling as always. He must get a lot of mileage from them at the police station. Even I wanted to confess everything to him—the key, the meeting tonight, my plans to join the Harmony commune to find Marcie and Victoria.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, injecting annoyance into my voice to cover up my guilt at withholding information. “Did he come back?”

  He shook his head. “No. We’re just finishing up the prints. There appear to be some nice ones on the door, larger than your own. We’ll let you know.”

  “Did you pick up Inclar? Or whatever his name is.” If they had, I’d sleep better tonight.

  “His real name is Daniel Foster. Went by Danny when he actually used the name. He’s going by Sam Armistead at the moment. But no, we didn’t find him. His place has been cleared out. Landlady said he owed a month�
��s rent.”

  “So he could be anywhere.” I felt a chill and instinctively leaned toward Jake.

  Shannon’s eyes followed my movement, narrowing slightly. He’d once accused Jake of encouraging me to exploit people, so they held no love for each other. “We’ll be out here watching the building tonight.”

  “You think he’s coming back?” I hoped this was only Shannon taking his obsession with criminals a little too far.

  “There’s more. Mr. Foster’s wife is dead, like you said, but it wasn’t from natural causes.”

  “She was murdered?” I exchange a horrified look with Jake.

  Shannon nodded. “Strangled with a silver chain in her own bed less than a year ago. Supposedly, her husband was out of town at the time, but they could never find him for questioning, and he hasn’t turned up since. There were no fingerprints on the chain and no solid evidence leading anywhere.”

  Jake put a comforting arm around my shoulders. “You think he did it?”

  “He could have. There doesn’t appear to be anyone else with a motive. Maybe he fled to Harmony Farm after he’d murdered his wife. The neighbors claim she’d recently moved into the building by herself. No one knew her very well.”

  “Maybe she’d left him,” I said.

  “Can’t say for sure. We’re tracing her now, seeing where she lived before that. We’ll find out more soon.”

  I rubbed my hands over my tired eyes, trying to think. Now that my initial shock was fading, I saw holes in Shannon’s hypotheses. “This was a year ago, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Inclar didn’t leave Harmony Farm until January, and I had the impression he’d been there a long time. He could have already been a member when she died. He might not be involved at all.”

  Shannon’s lips pursed. “Or maybe he joined to have an alibi.”

  “No. He believes in Harmony Farm—or at least the concept. Besides, he loved Sarah.”

  “How do you know all this? You didn’t mention talking to him about his wife. Or did you know her, too?”

  “Of course I didn’t know her.” I hesitated before adding, “I felt the imprint from his watch.”