Touch of Rain

by Teyla Branton

  He and Jake should get together, have a party, and talk about what I should do the next time I was attacked by a madman. “Don’t complain,” I said. “You were better off sleeping.”

  “We’ll need to dust the envelope and map for prints,” Shannon said, ignoring my comment.

  “I have the envelope in my bag, and Ethan will be here with the map at lunchtime.”

  “I’d rather call him and see if he can drop by the station before then. Do you have his number?”

  “That’s also in my bag.”

  He hesitated. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “No, but you might want to visit the attacker’s house. I doubt he’s there now, but you might find a reason for what he did. Or some other evidence.” Hopefully something incriminating on Harmony Farms.

  Paige gaped at me. “You know where he lives?”

  Oops. “I guess I forgot to tell you that part. I know his name too, but I think it’s a fake one. I’m pretty sure his wife was called Sarah.”

  Shannon gave me a long-suffering glare. “Why don’t you tell us again? From the start. This time don’t leave anything out.”

  “Okay, but you’re not going to like it.” I bit my bottom lip.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I was reading some objects for a couple. The Fullmers. Their daughter disappeared, and I was trying to help them get an idea of where she went.”

  Paige leaned forward eagerly, awaiting more, but Shannon stared for several seconds before asking, “Did you find her?” His words mocked me.

  I sighed. This was going to be a long morning.

  I told them everything. Well, everything except my plans to join the Harmony Farms commune and about the key. The minute I heard they were going to raid the farm, I would turn it over, but for now I might need it worse than they did. I wondered idly if I could soak the key in anything to remove the imprints. It was worth some thought. Baking soda and vinegar, my most common cleaning agents, wouldn’t likely do the job.

  “Do you have a death wish?” Shannon asked after I told him how I’d followed Inclar. But was that a glimmer of admiration behind the disapproval?

  I shook my head. “I was curious why he’d left the commune, but I really didn’t want to get involved. I wanted to help from a distance.”

  Now, thanks to Ethan and his sister and Tawnia’s new ability, I was heading in even deeper. Maybe that explained how alive I felt. It wasn’t a bad trade-off. Focusing on Victoria and Marcie had given me purpose, a destination. Some way to concretely help others. Maybe I wasn’t that different from Shannon after all.

  “With you as an eyewitness,” Shannon was saying, “we’ll have all the testimony we need, once we pick him up. Even so, I’d like to see if we can get his prints outside your apartment or on your door. That would seal it. We’ll need to get inside the lobby.”

  In other words, my testimony meant nothing to him. My motives were still suspect.

  I’d already given Shannon the envelope—minus the key—and Ethan’s cell phone number, but now I fished in my bag for my keys, removing the house set that were on a separate ring from the others. “The big one is to the lobby door. The little one is to my apartment in case you need to go in. Main floor on the left. There’s iced tea in the fridge.”

  Shannon stared at me as if I’d given him access to my bank account.

  “What?” I said.

  He sighed. “Never mind. I’ll return these to you later.”

  “No hurry. I have another set.” I kept several around and had given others to my neighbors and friends. It saved me from getting locked out when I misplaced my keys.

  Paige was smiling at me, an almost vulpine eagerness in her expression. “I know you probably get this all the time, but I’d really like to see you read something.”

  I eased away from the counter, subtly putting space between us. “Sure, any time.” I didn’t mean it. I didn’t want to read anything for a while. A long while. Except the comforting imprints from my parents and my antiques.

  “Let’s go,” Shannon said sharply, his voice a clear reproof.

  I smiled at him perhaps a little too gratefully. His eyes met mine, and for that instant, for once in our brief relationship, we were in complete agreement. Giving a curt nod, he turned away.

  Paige waved at me as the door shut, calculation in her eyes, and I wondered how long it would be before she brought me a piece of evidence to read. Maybe disbelief and mistrust were better than having my ability accepted outright. Obviously, there was more to Paige than I’d realized.

  My legs gave out, and I pushed myself up on the tall stool. Underneath the pounding of my head, I felt a sadness I couldn’t name. I didn’t even know what caused it. I stared toward the windows facing the street, for a moment blissfully seeing and feeling nothing. My customers were gone, one having taken an antique to Jake’s store to tally up with her herbs. She would be long on her way by now.

  “I’m sorry,” Jake said in a low voice.

  I focused on him. He’d passed in front of me to come around the desk, but I must have been too distracted to notice. “Didn’t we just do this?” I said.

  “Yeah, but I’m sorry again. Well, not about making you call the police but about arguing with you.”

  “You didn’t make me do anything, Jake. I knew I should call. That man tried to kill me.”

  Jake’s jaw hardened, but the anger wasn’t directed toward me this time. “You are not going home tonight.”

  I was about to retort that what I did was none of his business, but then he said, “Please. It would really make me feel better if we could figure something else out. I won’t be able to sleep at all, if you’re alone. In fact, I’ll have to come and stand guard outside your door.”

  He’d do it, too. This was part of why I was so helplessly in love with him. “Okay,” I said, my melancholy vanishing. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  He nodded and added briskly, “First things first. I brought a comfrey salve for those bruises.”

  I hugged him then, and he hugged me back. Whatever else happened in my life, at least I knew I could depend on Jake.

  “Let’s hurry then,” I said. “I think it’s time for me to head down to the river.”

  Chapter 9

  The people from Harmony Farms were at the river again. I didn’t know if I should be glad or afraid. Director Korin was dressed in the same brown pants and white shirt with the long, old-fashioned cuffs, his broad face accentuated by the ponytail. He recognized me immediately and waved a handful of flyers in greeting. After finishing his conversation with a potbellied man in a suit, he strode in my direction, smiling. I couldn’t help thinking how different he was from his scrawny brother. He was tall and strong and healthy, even a little too fleshy. I wondered what he would say if I told him his brother had tried to kill me last night.

  “You’ve come back to buy something?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t eat anything unless I know how it’s made. I’m a little bit of a fanatic, I guess you’d say.”

  That didn’t seem to faze him. “I understand completely. We use all natural ingredients that we grow ourselves, or for the things we can’t grow—like bananas—we buy from respected organic providers. The only exceptions are the muffins made with white flour. Those I can’t vouch for, but all the others, I can personally attest to the nutritional value.”

  “You use milk from grass-fed cows? Eggs from free-range chickens?”

  “Yep. And no preservatives.”

  If that was true, joining the commune, however temporarily, might end up being a vacation for me. Especially if, as I hoped, Korin and his followers were what they seemed to be.

  Of course, Tawnia’s drawing of Marcie seemed to indicate something was terribly wrong, though there might even be a way to explain that. Maybe Marcie had been ill. Maybe the dark solitude had been her wish. Maybe Tawnia didn’t have a gift but an overactive, hormonal imagination.

  I
pulled a few dollar bills from my pocket. “Okay, I’ll have a wheat muffin. It’s three dollars, right?” A steal for the size if they were really organic.

  “I think you’ll particularly enjoy the banana nut ones. Or the oatmeal raisin.” Korin motioned to one of the youths in the royal blue T-shirts. A young man this time, homely looking, with black hair and crooked teeth.

  I gave him my money and bit into an oatmeal raisin muffin. “Wonderful,” I said with real admiration. “It took me six months to learn how to make anything this good.”

  “You cook?”

  “Oh, yes. I love cooking.”

  He seemed pleased with that so I added, “I grow herbs, too. Well, not a lot. My father had an herb store, but he’s gone now, so I do the best I can.”

  If anything, Korin’s gaze became more interested, but was it because I knew herbs or because my father was dead?

  “I grew up working in his shop,” I continued. “But it belongs to someone else now.”

  “I’m so sorry. That had to be hard, losing it after losing your father. I suppose he left it to you?”

  I knew what he was after. “I sold it to pay the bills. But the new owner is nice.”

  “You still work there then?”

  “Only when they really need someone. He has two other employees, and they can mostly handle the business.” The truth meant less fabrication to remember.

  “I’m sure your sales experience must come in handy in your new job.”

  I had no intention of mentioning my antiques store. Not only did I want to appear to have nothing holding me to Portland, but according to Ethan, the organization would want everything I owned upon joining, and my shop was not on the bargaining table.

  “It’s been difficult to work since my dad died,” I said instead, shrugging. “I’m sort of drifting right now. I do need work, though.”

  Let him read what he wanted into that, hopefully coming to the conclusion that I was hurting financially. Maybe they wouldn’t expect much from me. But would they trust me to give up my assets on my own, or would they expect to delve into my financial matters themselves?

  Korin had asked another question. “Excuse me?” I said.

  “I asked if you still knew any health remedies.”

  “Are you kidding? I could prescribe herbs before I was eight.”

  “What about headaches? One of our members suffers from them.”

  “There are a lot of things to take for that.” In fact, I’d just treated myself a few hours earlier. “Feverfew, skullcap, ginkgo biloba, melatonin, cayenne, and even peppermint oil. Not to mention magnesium and B vitamins. It really depends on what kind of headache you have—tension, migraine, or whatever. You sometimes have to experiment to find what works for an individual.”

  “That’s amazing,” Korin said. “I’ll have to get you to write all that down.”

  I laughed. “Most people think I’m weird.”

  “Not me. We grow a lot of herbs to sell to different companies, but we haven’t been very successful at using them for our own people. That’s a real gift.”

  I tried not to feel good, knowing his intention was to flatter me, to make me feel useful. “I’d love to have a bigger place to grow herbs. Right now I have a frame I built that stands in front of the kitchen window. It’s kind of tiny, but it works.”

  “I bet your mother and your other relatives appreciate your ability,” Korin said.

  “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.” Korin 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 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.”

  Korin 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,” Korin 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.”

  “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.”

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

  “Thanks.” I gave him a smile as I took the paper.

  “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,” Korin 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 found a bench and sat down for a moment to see if I was being followed. At least that’s what I told myself. In truth, 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. I’d have to toughen up if I was going to investigate more cases. I can do that, I told myself. I’d taken a couple years of taekwondo lessons as a teen from one of the men who’d stayed with our family, and maybe it was time to pick them up again.

  My phone buzzed in the pocket of my pants, so I pulled it out. Tawnia. “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 annoying 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 b
e 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. 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 spiel 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 additional equipment from some guys I know,” Ethan said, waving his fork in a strangely appealing way. Of course, everything about him was appealing. It helped 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, and a huge piece of cocoa cake. 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.”