Touch of Rain
Page 11
“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 might 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 within a couple blocks of 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 wasn’t 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 smile 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. It’d be just my luck to finally meet a great guy, only to have him dying of some rare disease.
“Some old medication of Marcie’s.” He held it up briefly, and I barely had time to read the word phenelzine on the label before he tossed 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.
“No. I think the pills were to help her sleep,” he said.
I could imagine why she’d want that. Nights had been the hardest for me 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. I doubted it would add anything to what I’d already discovered, but maybe when I was feeling up to it, I’d ask to read the bottle.
“Well, I’ll see you tonight.” He stood up again 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 my store. As I reached for the door, I glimpsed Jake through the window of the Herb Shoppe. Had he seen the kiss? I told myself I didn’t care.
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 and disposable gloves 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, I threw down my rag and pulled off my rubber gloves, tossing them into the garbage can under the table. Back in the shop, I pushed myself up onto my stool and leaned against the counter. No sign of a single customer.
My computer was on, and I moved the mouse to bring up my 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 might explain Tawnia’s picture.
Next, 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 browser.
“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. “I did some checking,” I said. “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. “If I had a dollar for every guy who tried to kiss me over the years, I’d be on the beach in Hawaii all winter. It didn’t mean anything.” At least not yet.
He rolled his eyes. “Nothing wrong with your ego, I see.”
“You wouldn’t understand my fatal attraction. 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. Because it certainly hadn’t been true in the past year.
“You know what?” I added. “It’s so slow today that I’m going home to get ready for the meeting with the commune people tonight.” I’d told him about that before going to lunch, and had been relieved that he hadn’t protested like Tawnia. “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 doors open? Or should I shut them? I don’t mind closing early if it’s too much inconvenience. There’s only an hour left.”
“You’re going to your apartment? Alone?” He leaned forward, his elbows on my counter, his dark hands coming to rest near my paler ones. “And 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.
“Okay, great. Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later when we drove up to the apartment building, 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 his bike 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.
“W
hat’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 Farms after he 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 Farms 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 Farms—or at least the concept. Besides, he loved Sarah.”
“How do you know all this?” Shannon’s expression changed to suspicion. “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 a watch he gave his brother.”
Shannon let out an impatient sigh. “Look, you’ll be safe tonight. We’ll be out here in case Danny Foster returns.”
“Fine. Just don’t expect me to bring you coffee and doughnuts.” I didn’t know why, but the detective brought out this snippy side of me more than anyone else.
“You don’t need to stay here for Autumn’s sake,” Jake said dismissively. “I’m looking out for her.”
Shannon’s eyes bore holes in Jake. “Sorry. Now that this is related to a cold case murder and two missing women, I’ve been officially assigned to the case. If either of you see Foster, contact me immediately.”
We didn’t respond, but Jake’s arm tightened around me as we started toward the building.
I could feel Shannon’s eyes digging into my back. I wanted to turn and flip him off, but my parents raised me better.
“You can let go of me, Jake,” I said when we were finally inside, out of Shannon’s view.
Jake looked at me blankly, and for a moment I saw something unreadable in his eyes. This wasn’t the Jake I knew. There was something . . . different about him.
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he said finally. His arm dropped from my shoulder, and the moment was over.
But with the murder, everything had changed, and suddenly I wasn’t so sure about going to Harmony Farms.
Chapter 10
I was surprised to see that the small hotel had any type of conference room, much less one that looked as if it could seat a hundred people. The room was already filled with several dozen youths, most wearing the royal blue T-shirt proclaiming Love Is the Only Thing That Matters. There were a few white shirts too, the kind with the blue lettering both Marcie and Victoria had been more familiar with: Only Love Can Overcome Hate. But I didn’t recognize anyone from either Victoria or Marcie’s imprints.
A few people present obviously didn’t yet belong to the commune. Some stood out—three blue-haired teens with multiple piercings, a large woman with a dour expression, an unshaven man in an ill-fitting suit, a good-looking man with a serious limp. Others could have been anyone off the street: a young woman with a toddler, four young men in jeans, two young girls who looked decidedly underage, a handsome older man with white hair, and a woman wearing a blue nursing uniform. I wondered which category I fit into.
One young man was talking with a disciple, his tones bitter. Something about his old man. I wanted to slap him and say that at least he had a father. But perhaps his old man beat him.
Settling into a seat, I thought of Jake, whom I’d finally convinced to leave me to nap in my apartment since Shannon and his police buddies were staking out the place. Jake had left with an expression on his face that approximated a glare, and I was glad he’d gone because he wouldn’t have been happy seeing Ethan show up at my door to drive me to the hotel.
The man Victoria had known had disappeared into the crowd, so I settled into a seat to watch for him. I wasn’t left alone long. One after another of the young disciples came over to smile, ask polite questions, and then eventually drift away. They asked nothing difficult and didn’t seem to expect anything of me. Crazy as it seemed, I felt a part of this odd group. How much more inviting had it seemed to Marcie and Victoria, both of whom had been dealing with great pressure?
The young mother was glowing with the attention. A knot of women disciples had formed around her, oohing and aahing over her child. A little boy, I thought. Why is she here? From a distance, she seemed like any contented mother. Her dark blond hair was drawn back into a casual ponytail revealing a nice facial structure. Healthy, if a little on the thin side. Her dress pants were too large, as was the turtleneck shirt she wore, the neck loose and drooping down as if the cloth was old and tired, and her brown walking shoes were scuffed. By contrast, the little boy wore stiff new jeans, a crisp blue and white shirt with a baseball over the left breast, and blue tennis shoes that looked completely unused—at least from this distance.
A stack of paper with a song printed on it was making the rounds. I took a copy. Apparently, we were going to sing. I didn’t recognize the words or the melody, but I didn’t have much musical talent, not like Jake, who’d recently picked up the guitar.
“Ah, you’re here.” I looked up from the paper to see Korin, still in the same brown pants and old-fashioned white shirt. There was embroidery on the cuffs, I noticed, and I wondered who had done that. This evening his long hair wasn’t in a ponytail but hanging free.
“Hi,” I said, but my eyes had gone past him to his companion. I hoped my stare wasn’t too obvious.
“I’d like to introduce my new friend,” Korin said gesturing. “This is Jake.”
Jake. My Jake. The terribly good-looking, muscular mulatto man I’d kicked out of my apartment two hours ago.
“Jake, this is, uh . . . Oh, dear, I never learned your name.”
“You can call me Autumn.” I had already decided to give my real first name but to make up my last if they inquired further, apparently a decision I shared with Jake. So far last names hadn’t been encouraged.
Jake shook my hand as if we didn’t know each other at all. “Nice to meet you, Autumn.”
“You too, Jake,”
I said lightly, but I narrowed my eyes to show him I was not in the least amused with his checking up on me.
“Jake works construction,” Korin continued, “but he also has an interest in nutrition. I thought you two might have a lot in common.”
“Sure,” I said, eyeing Jake’s stained white T-shirt and holey jeans. He never wore those jeans unless he was deep cleaning the Herb Shoppe.
Jake smiled at me like an angel. I grimaced back. As soon as I got him alone, we were going to have words.
In the end, we weren’t allowed to sit together. As Korin began asking everyone to be seated, his disciples slid between every newcomer. Nicely done, I thought. Isolation would eliminate whispered conversations of doubt.
A girl led us in an interesting song about human responsibility to tend the earth before it was too late, and afterward, Korin began to preach. It was not a religious sermon, but he spoke with fervor about love toward all men, kindness, forgiveness, and service to nature. He was a powerful orator, even without a microphone, and the whole crowd was in his grip. Jake appeared to be listening intently along with everyone else, but it was Korin’s very skill that had me doubting his sincerity. I would have preferred to see him make a few mistakes, to stumble on his words or gaze off into the distance to collect his thoughts. Then again, he’d probably given this same spiel hundreds of times. No wonder he’d been promoted by the farm’s founder: he was mesmerizing.
Yet whether this group was a positive or negative force remained to be seen. I would reserve judgment for now.
Korin began talking about the farm where the commune members lived together in peace and unity. I wondered if my parents had explored such places. I seemed to remember one of their friends mentioning a commune they had lived in before opening the Herb Shoppe. Why had they left? Had they simply outgrown it? As a child, I’d never been interested in their lives before I had entered the picture; now I craved every bit of knowledge.
I pulled my mind back to Korin, who was explaining that upon joining Harmony Farms, people were required to turn over worldly assets in exchange for fellowship with the commune. There would always be food to eat, clothes to wear, and extended family support. Love. All members worked hard for the good of everyone. There was no want or fear. The way he explained it made me want to sell my shop and donate my tiny retirement fund. To someone who had nothing to lose, I’m sure the spiel made a far larger impact.