In front of us, Gabe’s figure could have been carved from granite. Harmony kept looking back at us every so often and then at her husband’s face, the motion almost calculated rather than worried.
We passed the new housing site and walked in the direction of the main barn, but Gabe stopped at the edge of the clearing near a large boulder I’d passed a few times that day. He nodded to Korin, and together they grabbed the rock and rolled it to one side, revealing a metal door.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Gabe asked Korin. “I don’t know who could put him in here. There was nothing here earlier when we checked. It’d take at least two men to do it.”
Fear shot through me. Gabe’s words told me two things. One, that this was where he, Korin, and the guards had disappeared today; and two, that he hadn’t been the one who had hidden Inclar’s body. Had I misunderstood Korin?
“How did you get into the root cellar to find him?” Harmony asked me. “You would have needed help to find it, much less get inside.” She sounded amused, but there was a careful note in her voice that belied her joviality. “Or did you just put your hand on the rock and feel that he was in there?”
My gaze whipped to Korin, and I saw him smiling. Not the easy, friendly smile he’d used before, but a predatory, triumphant grin. I started backing away, but I thumped into something immoveable behind me. The guard from last night.
I dived to the side, trying to get away, but the guard was ready for me. His fingers tightened around my arms, making me gasp with pain. Worse, two more men materialized from the trees to stand behind Gabe and Harmony.
A trap, I thought. And not just for me, but for Gabe as well. Was Harmony a part of it?
“Would someone like to tell me what’s going on here?” Gabe’s fists clenched at his side. “Did or did not this young lady use her ability to determine there was a corpse in here? Korin? Can you please explain?”
Korin gave him an easy grin. “Oh, I can explain. When I learned about Autumn’s unique gift, I suspected she wasn’t your ordinary needy disciple. That’s why I convinced you to let her join even after that policeman showed up. Today when Misty told me Autumn had been sent from her parents, that only confirmed the matter.”
“So?” Gabe’s brow furrowed. “We’ll take Misty back to the city, if that’s what she wants. We’ll take both of them back. We have nothing to hide.”
“Oh, but we do.” Korin shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown pants, as though talking about the weather. “You see, I realized Autumn might use her nasty little talent to trace my sister-in-law’s death to me.”
Harmony gasped. “You killed Sarah? Why?”
“She was going to hire a lawyer to get back her share of the money Inclar had given us from the sale of their house.”
“You told me you thought Inclar had killed her,” Gabe said. “He’d left by then.”
“No, he hadn’t. He was here.” Korin motioned toward the metal door. “He was in conditioning.”
“Conditioning?” Horror filled Gabe’s expression, one that reminded me of Essence’s terror. Like me, Gabe must guess at the meaning.
“But you let him go,” I said.
Korin’s jaw worked. “He wasn’t going to tell anyone. Or so I thought.” He glared at me as if I was responsible, which I guess in a way I was. “I would have taken care of everything, but then Gabe had to come rushing back from the city because after we left, he learned from the detective that you were the woman Inclar attacked. Gabe knew Inclar was here because he’d seen him and let him stay in my room Friday night. Gabe was actually worried Inclar might try to hurt you again. He didn’t know I’d already made sure it was too late for Inclar to do anything to anyone.”
“You killed your own brother?” I shouldn’t have been surprised but somehow I was.
Korin snorted. “I did him a favor. He was miserable without Sarah—and more than half crazy.” In a flurry of steps, he crossed the space between us, grasped both my arms, and shook me. “What did Inclar tell you?”
“Nothing! I don’t know anything about a murder. I just wanted to make sure Victoria—Misty—was okay, that’s all.”
Korin’s calm returned. “She wanted to leave, but she won’t now. None of you will.”
“Come on, Korin, this is ridiculous.” Gabe took a step toward him. “Let’s sit down and talk this out.”
Korin snorted. “What’s ridiculous is watching you think you run this place when it’s Harmony and I who run everything.” He glanced at Harmony, but the shadows were growing darker, and I couldn’t see her expression.
“Enough.” Gabe reached for Harmony as though preparing to leave, but Korin put his hand in his pocket and drew out a small pistol.
“You’re not going anywhere except down there.” He nodded to one of the guards, who opened the apparently heavy steel door with a grunt, revealing a steep set of stairs that disappeared into total darkness.
“Korin,” Gabe pleaded.
“Shut up. I’ve decided what I’m going to do about Autumn because she may be useful, but I haven’t decided what happens to you yet. That may depend on your dear wife.”
He turned to Harmony. We all did. She was the unknown factor in all of this. Korin extended a hand to her. “You know how I feel about you. I think you feel the same about me. Come with me. We can have it all.”
She took a step forward, and now I could see her better, though her eyes were black and fathomless in the gathering darkness. My heart was pounding because I had no idea how I wanted this to go. If she loved Korin, then Gabe and I were doomed. But if she didn’t love Korin and could pretend to until she got help, that would be better. I wished my talent was stopping time so we could discuss the options.
Harmony’s chin came up. “You’ve been a good friend, but Gabe is my husband, and my heart belongs to him.” She stepped sideways toward Gabe, clasping his hand. Korin stumbled backward at her words, his eyes going wide, mouth slightly ajar.
Gabe met Harmony’s glance for a brief, telling moment, and I realized the whole of their world began and ended with each other. They might have a child and separate goals and different friendships, but they existed for one another. Living with them so long, Korin had been blind and stupid to think anything else.
Korin recovered his shock. “Then you share his fate,” he sneered, his words becoming twisted and ugly. He reached out to shove Harmony down the stairs, but Gabe pulled her out of the way, taking the blow himself. He fell into the hole and disappeared, soundlessly except for the soft thumps of his body hitting the stairs.
Harmony hurtled herself carelessly after him, calling his name. “Gabe, Gabe, are you okay? Oh, Gabe!”
For a moment Korin’s expression was that of an abandoned little boy, but the next instant it hardened. “You next,” he ordered, waving the gun at me.
The guard released me, and I stumbled toward the cellar, calculating my chances of escape. I figured they were near zero. I didn’t want to discard my life so carelessly, but once I was in the hole, my chances would slip to the negative side.
I faked a left and then darted right, charging behind one of the men. At any second, I expected a bullet to slam into my back. Or perhaps my head.
“Get her!” screamed Korin.
I ran.
I reached the nearest tree before I went down, the guard’s weight heavy upon me. A cracking sensation in my chest was followed by a terrible, shooting pain through my left side. My head hit the ground next, bouncing up and slamming back down again. I lay there too stunned to do more than gasp for each painful breath.
After a moment, the guard’s weight lifted, and I was rolled forcefully over. Korin towered above me with the pistol pointed directly in my face.
“You’re lucky,” he said, calm again, “that Shannon is not a common name for any male, even a cat. It is, however, the name of that detective in Portland. Small world? I don’t think so. That’s where your luck comes in. The only reason I don’t kill you no
w is to assess what damage that phone call did. I don’t even care any more about exploiting your ability. Don’t try to get away again. I’m not a patient man, and there are three hundred acres here, plenty of space to make a skinny little thing like you disappear.”
Chapter 22
I’d like to say that I miraculously overcame my four attackers despite my aching ribs and many bruises, but, no, I went docilely and gingerly into the hole in the ground that I knew Korin meant for my imprisonment, if not for my burial. To the darkness Essence so feared.
Korin seemed impatient for me to descend and was already motioning to one of his men to start closing the door, though my head wasn’t yet clear.
“Wait!” I said. “What about Marcie? Is she down here? Her brother’s been looking for her, and he won’t stop. He’s a PI now. He’s already talked to you. He knows I’m here. A lot of people do. The best thing for you is to leave before he brings the police.”
“Don’t worry about Marcie. As I told her brother, she left us a long time ago. It’s not my fault she doesn’t contact him. I don’t think she likes him much.” Korin laughed. “And now the best thing for you is to get down there before this door knocks you down.”
I hurried, hunching to protect my head, half afraid I would stumble over Gabe’s broken body. The dirt wall to my left was covered with chicken wire, and I used that to help me keep my balance as I hurried down the stairs.
At least Korin hadn’t mentioned having Ethan in custody. I clung to the thought—and to the hope that he wouldn’t harm Jake.
The door above clanged shut, and the pin slid in. Then the scrape of the rock. I hoped there was enough air to survive. Did a root cellar need air, or was that the point?
The stale, musty smell of dampness assaulted me as I went down the last few stairs, which were surprisingly solid, though I couldn’t see their construction. The blackness felt heavy all around me, and claustrophobia kicked in, making my stomach churn and my heart race.
“Harmony?” I called.
“Down here. Be careful.” Her voice came from farther down and to the right.
“Is Gabe okay?”
“I think so.”
“I’m all right,” came his faint assertion.
A light went on, and I could see Harmony kneeling beside Gabe, but the light didn’t travel much beyond that. When the stairs ended, I almost ran into the wall in front of me, lined completely with what looked like two-by-fours. I turned and moved slowly toward the others, trying not to jar my tortured ribs.
The space was compact, with shelves and crates and bins, all mostly empty except for several large crates of potatoes in one corner. Shrunken onions were braided together and hanging in a dozen bunches from the ceiling. Gabe’s recumbent form took up most of the floor space, but I crowded in and squatted next to them, rubbing my arms to stave off the cold that permeated everything this deep in the earth. My feet were the only things that were relatively comfortable, accustomed as they were to exposure.
Though small, the cellar wasn’t as cramped as I’d expected, and with Harmony’s flashlight, apparently now repaired, the compression feeling of my claustrophobia eased. As long as I breathed easily, had a bit of light, and kept my thoughts from running wild, I’d be okay.
“What now?” I asked, holding a hand over the throbbing in my left side.
Harmony shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“He can’t leave us here,” Gabe said. “The others will look for us. They’ll know something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, but will they look in here? I mean, right away?”
Both Harmony and Gabe were silent. “Maybe not for a while,” Harmony said finally. “Not until fall. They’ll fill the other cellars first.”
“How many cellars are there?” I asked.
“Three,” Harmony said. “There’s one out between the square and the garden, and another by the greenhouse. They were Korin’s idea, and they’ve worked really well. We always had a lot of spoiled food before. They’re mostly empty this time of year. Like this one.”
Which left plenty of space to imprison anyone who objected to Korin’s policies. I didn’t say it aloud, but I didn’t have to. Harmony gave an expression of dismay, while Gabe closed his eyes tightly, as though to shut out the knowledge.
“Fortunately,” I said, “they were too busy getting me down here to check my pockets.” I pulled out my radio to show them. “Korin took it when I arrived, but I stole it back before he found me a little while ago in his office.”
“What is it?” Harmony eyed the radio doubtfully.
“A two-way radio. A friend of mine is on the other side.” Or had been. I didn’t want to jinx anything by adding that.
“Does it still work?” Harmony turned her face heavenward. “Oh, please let it work!”
“It was working when I had it last.” They watched as I flipped the dials, but no static greeted my efforts. Turning it over, I worked off the lid to the battery compartment. It was empty.
Disappointment flooded me. So much for that.
“Will these batteries in here work?” Harmony held up the flashlight. “They’re double A. There’s four inside.”
I grinned. “I think so! I mean, it came with a rechargeable battery pack, but my friend said he wanted to make sure regular batteries could work in a pinch. Shine the light here before you take them out so I can see how they go in.” After some scrabbling around in the dark, I got three of the batteries in, and the unit turned on. Static had never sounded so beautiful.
I pressed the transmit button. “Ethan, are you there?” I asked. Nothing. I tried several more times with no better luck. I even climbed back up to the top of the stairs and tried it there. Still nothing. I was too upset to cry.
“The radio seems to be working fine,” I said. “But I don’t know about the range or if being under the earth is affecting it. Or even if my friend is still out there.” For all I knew, Korin had him in another pit somewhere.
I returned the batteries to Harmony, and when she turned the flashlight back on, I could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “We’ll think of something,” I said. Picking up a potato from the crate, I rubbed it against my jeans before taking a bite. “At least we won’t starve right away. Water might be a problem, though.”
Harmony stared at me, something changing in her face. “What Korin said . . . and the radio—you didn’t come to join us, did you?”
“No. And even if I did, I don’t believe in fasting unless it’s for religion or a body cleanse.”
She giggled a little crazily. “Neither do I.”
Gabe shrugged. “There are fewer complaints when we’re fasting.”
“People were always fine before,” Harmony countered.
I shifted my weight to see if that would ease the pain in my ribs. “So is that new, then? Don’t tell me—I bet it was Korin’s idea.”
“We didn’t intend that sort of control.” Gabe struggled to a sitting position, his hand to his head as though it hurt. Blood oozed from underneath his fingers. “That’s not what we started out doing.”
“Well, it’s what it’s become. Some of your people are very, very afraid, and that’s been going on for a least a year, probably two or three.”
Gabe hung his head. “When Korin joined us, I thought I could travel more, help more people. He’s so competent.”
“What about the money?” I asked. “Who takes care of that?”
“There isn’t any money. Not after supplies, the land payment, and—” He stopped because we all knew the truth. “Korin,” he said. “I turned it over to him.”
I wanted to tell him how stupid he was, but there was no point. He was as much an innocent as Winter had been. So rooted in the present and in doing good that he couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone taking advantage of him.
“I caught him smoking marijuana with one of the younger women when you were away last month,” Harmony said into the silence. “She didn’t even know what it was and wa
s quite out of it when I found them. I was furious. He promised never to do it again if I let it drop, and I’ve been watching him carefully since, but I can’t be everywhere. I don’t know where he got it.”
I did. What’s more, I bet Korin had been the one to give Essence the plant in the first place.
Gabe sighed. “You should have told me.”
“You depend on him so much. And he seemed sincerely embarrassed.”
That was the problem. Korin was a master at deception.
“Someone will come,” I assured them. “I have friends who know I’m here, and they won’t abandon me. Meanwhile, we have to think. Make a plan.”
“But what if no one comes?” Harmony whispered, panic growing in her voice. “Even if they do, they might never find us. It’s so far down. We could scream for hours and no one would hear. Oh, this is all my fault!”
Gabe put his arm around her, drawing her close. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.” His voice calmed her, but I didn’t know for how long. She would begin worrying about her child soon, if she wasn’t already. At least there were plenty of women here who would step in and care for Flower. But as safe as the girl might be for the moment, I knew that wouldn’t last. She would be used as a weapon against her parents, who would eventually give everything to Korin to save her life.
We had to get out of here. “How strong are these cellars?” I asked, eyeing the walls that seemed to be made up of chicken wire stapled to heavy wood beams set at regular intervals. The chicken wire might not hold us back, but the endless packed dirt beyond would pose a real problem. “Is there any way we could force our way out? Maybe through the ceiling?” Though the ceiling wasn’t high, the light didn’t extend far enough for me to see what held it up.
Gabe shrugged. “I don’t really know. Korin had complete charge of the construction. I do remember a lot of wooden support beams over the top and both plywood and metal sheets over the whole thing. Not sure we could get through that without tools. He said he wanted them to last. I inspected the cellars after they were finished, but I haven’t been back since.”
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