by Bella Andre
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t even be here. April’s my sister, not yours. And no matter how dangerous the commune is, I’m not leaving without you.”
His expression was harder than the granite they’d just climbed. “I can take care of myself and I will find your sister. But I won’t let you risk your life. And I won’t let you get hurt. Promise me you’ll go for help if something happens or we aren’t setting one foot onto the commune.”
“Okay,” she finally said, accepting that Sam couldn’t shed his protective instincts. He needed to hear her say it. “I promise I’ll go for help.”
Slowly, they moved through thicker and thicker brush until they reached a chain-link fence. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if they came upon someone with a gun. The only ones she’d ever seen were the ones who moved in with her mother’s boyfriends and, fortunately, moved out when they left. No one had warned her not to touch them as a kid; she’d just known.
“Who are you?”
The high-pitched voice startled her, and she jumped against Sam. He put his hands on her shoulders and she was thankful for his reassuring strength.
A short, plump girl with dreadlocks and bad skin stood in the bushes. “This is private property. Go away.”
Dianna was surprised by the hard words out of the baby voice. But she was relieved to see that, as far as she could tell, the girl didn’t have any weapons on her. Based on what Will and Sam had both said about the suspected drug-related activities on the commune, Dianna had almost expected armed guards.
“I’m looking for April Kelley. I’m her sister.”
The girl’s eyes widened before she shifted into a sneer. “You must be the rich celebrity, huh?”
Dianna was taken aback by the stranger’s vitriol and it took her a few extra seconds to find the words, “Is she here?”
She held her breath as she waited for the girl to reply, never having been able to let go of that small shred of hope that her sister would be alive and well on the commune when they arrived.
The girl looked at her like she was extremely slow. “Of course not. She went to see you.”
The crushing blow came too quick for Dianna to deflect it. Fortunately, Sam was right behind her with an arm around her waist.
Picking up the questioning, he asked, “Has anyone heard from her since she left?”
The girl shook her head. “When she didn’t show up for chores this morning we figured she’d decided to head back to San Francisco without telling anyone.”
“No,” Dianna said, finding her voice again. “That’s not what happened. She called me yesterday. She’s in trouble.”
Dianna didn’t know what she’d expected. A little panic on the girl’s part might have been nice. Instead she just shrugged.
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
Something told Dianna that this girl didn’t care for April much. She wanted to know why—and if it could have something to do with her sister’s disappearance.
But before she could give her the third degree, Sam said, “Could you show us where she’s been living so we can see if she left any clues as to where she went?”
The girl looked wary. “We don’t normally allow strangers onto the Farm.”
“I’m not a stranger. I’m her sister.”
Narrowed eyes scanned her, top to bottom. “Whatever. I guess, since you’re her sister and all. Although I’m sure Peter will kick you out soon enough.” But rather than lead them inside the gates, she turned to Sam. “Who are you?”
“Friend of the family. You lead the way.”
It was a barely masked command that the girl couldn’t help but obey.
As she motioned for them to follow her through the brambles, Sam whispered, “Let’s see what we can learn from April’s friends before we jump to any conclusions. They probably know more than they think they do.”
She wasn’t sure she believed anything he was saying, but it didn’t stop Dianna from sending up a silent thank-you that he was here with her. She’d need to siphon off his strength until she could relocate her own.
They stepped beyond the fence and the thick vegetation and Dianna was surprised to find that the commune was extremely clean and orderly. Neat rows of fruit trees and plots lush with vegetables grew to the west of the low-roofed barns. There was even a white house with a porch at the top of the meadow, which looked down on the land below.
Even more surprising, there was a faded baby stroller at the entrance of one of the many huts that cropped up along the edges of the meadow where the tall trees began again. She heard laughter and saw children playing with a cute little puppy who was lying on its back while they rubbed its belly.
Had April been telling her the truth when she’d said it wasn’t a bad place?
“This is the Farm,” the girl said, waving her arms across the rolling open hills.
It was an incredibly beautiful valley, surrounded by high mountains on all sides. A low, distinctly nonhuman sound bellowed at them and she jumped in alarm. Sam motioned to his left and she realized they were standing beside a sheep’s pen. Pigs and goats were in separately fenced sections, and even though she had no livestock experience whatsoever, the animals’ pens looked pretty darn tidy.
And yet, a chill passed through Dianna that had nothing to do with the light breeze rustling the leaves on the tall aspen trees. She’d grown up in a dark and scary place, and although her eyes couldn’t find anything scary about the bucolic scene before them, the fact that her sister was missing kept the same dark presence hovering over it all.
Crossing between vegetable patches, they followed the girl over to a small shack, no bigger than a ten-by-ten garden shed.
“This is where she lived?” Dianna asked, instantly aghast at the lack of heat, running water, kitchen, or toilet.
“We live as simply as we possibly can. April really embraced it.”
Was that true? Would April have embraced a surrogate “family” even though she’d pushed her own flesh and blood away?
The shed was clean and simple and yet, almost as soon as she stepped into the building, Dianna found that she couldn’t spend another second inside April’s primitive room.
Ever since moving out of her mother’s trailer for good, she’d never done well in small spaces and absolutely hated feeling trapped, which was why she’d bought a condo with floor-to-ceiling windows, and every room had a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge. It made her feel like she could escape at a moment’s notice, gave her the illusion of not being held down, of not being trapped.
In so many ways, even though it was much cleaner, this little cabin felt like the trailer she’d grown up in. She’d sworn she and April would never live like this again.
How could her sister have made this choice? Especially given all of the opportunities that Dianna had worked her butt off to provide?
If only she and April had been able to see eye to eye. Then maybe none of this would have happened.
She pushed past Sam to get back outside and he gave her a look that seemed to say, “Everything is going to be okay.”
But she wasn’t sure that it would be, especially not when she saw three men—two so huge they looked like giants flanking the third—waiting for her outside April’s shed.
———
Sam heard Dianna cautiously call his name.
Damn it, he chastised himself as he walked back outside and saw that Dianna was standing in front of three men. What had he been thinking to take his eyes off her for even a second?
Moving quickly to her side, he slid his hand through hers. Touch her and die was the message he wanted to come across loud and clear to their new friends.
“And who are you?” the regular-sized man said to him.
“Sam MacKenzie,” he replied, not bothering to hold out his hand in greeting.
“My name is Peter Cohen.”
The man didn’t bother to introduce his two large friends, whom Sam quickly deduced were the palace guards, w
hich seemed to mean that Peter was the man in charge.
“As I just said to your friend, Dianna, welcome to my Farm.”
Sam knew he and Dianna weren’t the slightest bit welcome. They were intruders. But he’d come here to find April. He wasn’t going to let some smarmy cult leader get in his way.
Cutting any further bullshit off at the pass, he said, “April’s disappeared. Do you know where she’s gone?”
Peter’s expression didn’t change, save for a shifting of his dark eyes, which were too intelligent for Sam’s liking. Sam felt like he’d known men like this before, men who had volunteered to be hotshots for a summer, not to save trees and houses and lives, but simply for the chance to be called a hero.
Sam was going to watch Peter Cohen very carefully. If there was any chance that he had staged April’s kidnapping for his own profit—or to try to get at Dianna, who was both famous and rich—Sam was going to stop the motherfucker before he could make it to the next square on the board.
Without answering Sam’s question, Peter commanded, “Come with me.”
They followed Peter and his guards past the rows of crops, across an open field where children played, and up a set of stairs to the attractive white house that overlooked the commune’s many acres.
Moving silently, a woman in Peter’s house filled three cups with something hot and set the cups before them before backing silently out of the room.
Sam had no intention of drinking whatever it was and he sent a silent signal to Dianna that she shouldn’t either.
“Before I tell you what I know about April, I want to know more about both of you.” He turned to Dianna. “April said you have a TV show and that you are quite famous. Does anyone know you are here and how did you find us?”
Considering how upset she’d been inside April’s shack, she barely blinked an eye as she said, “April told me enough about the Farm for us to locate it on a map.”
Sam’s respect for her—already in full measure after the way she’d come back from a near-drowning to transcend her fear of heights, all in the same day—grew yet again. She’d deftly sidestepped Peter’s first question without giving away Will’s part in getting them to the commune.
Seeming satisfied with her response, the man turned to Sam. “And who are you?”
“I already told you my name,” Sam said.
Peter raised an eyebrow. “We are very careful with regard to who we allow on the Farm. Are you a cop?”
Sam sized up the commune’s leader. Broad-shouldered with cropped hair, he didn’t look weak. And then, there was a question of bodyguards. What the hell were they hovering around for?
Clearly impatient for answers, Dianna leaned forward and pinned the man with her intelligent gaze.
“Sam is a firefighter, not a cop. And now that you’ve got your answers, I want to find out what you know about my sister’s disappearance. Anything about where she might be, her last moves, if she’d ever left the commune before and with whom?”
Clearly surprised by her pointed questions, Peter looked concerned for the first time.
“I’m very sorry to hear that she’s missing. Honestly, I doubt anyone here knows what happened to her. She’s been a constant resident for the past three months. She came with a boyfriend named Kevin, but when he moved on a few weeks later, she remained behind. I believe she hiked down into Vail to see you a few days ago, is that not correct?”
A flash of pain moved across Dianna’s face, so quickly Sam almost missed it.
“Yes, my sister and I met in Vail. Was April hanging around any strangers? Did she have any enemies that you know of?”
Peter shook his head. “As far as I know, she didn’t have any enemies. But I will admit to being concerned about her in the beginning. She wasn’t particularly good in group situations at first. I think getting her involved with the other women who cook helped turn her around.” He licked his lips. “She makes the most marvelous herb bread.”
Sam watched as Dianna struggled with her frustration at Peter’s answers. “I can’t believe my sister would be a part of something like this,” she said, gesturing to the grounds below the house.
Peter cocked his head to the side. “Like what?”
Dianna leveled a hard stare at the man. “You tell me. What the hell are all of you doing hidden up here with no roads and no contact with the outside world?”
For the first time Sam saw the take-no-prisoners-reporter side of Dianna and it impressed the hell out of him.
Strangely, though, Peter didn’t seem the least bit upset by the gauntlet she’d thrown down.
“We find that people often have misconceptions about an intentional community such as ours. We don’t have a group religion. We support ourselves by making furniture and other handmade products, along with animal by-products such as honey and cheese. The people who live here do so because they love it. Your sister, I believe, was growing comfortable in our community.”
Dianna sat back in her seat, clearly digesting Peter’s words.
“Do you swear to me that my sister wasn’t mixed up in anything illegal?”
Peter nodded. “As far as I know, she was simply here trying to find herself.” He bowed his head and took a deep breath. “I can see how worried you are and I will allow you to ask her friends if they know anything more, although, I should warn you, not everyone here trusts outsiders.” After a moment of silence, he added, “I’m also willing to let you set up camp here for the night. There is plenty of room in the meadow for the two of you.”
Peter’s offer sounded benevolent. Helpful, even. But to Sam’s suspicious ears it reeked of wanting to keep an eye on them.
Unfortunately, the sun had already set behind the trees. Even if they chose to leave the commune, they couldn’t get far in the dark. Besides, Dianna looked as exhausted as he’d ever seen her.
At Dianna’s questioning glance, he said, “Fine. We’ll stay.”
“I wish I could help you more,” Peter said as he walked them to the door.
Almost across the threshold, Dianna paused. “Do you have a phone?”
“Just one, here in the house.”
“Could I use it?”
“Follow me.”
The phone was in a small room by the back door. “Take your time,” he said. “You can let yourself out the back.”
Dianna put her hand on Peter’s arm before she left the room. “I have one more request,” she said in a smooth voice that belied her distress. “I’d like to give the Farm’s telephone number to my producer. Just in case April calls, she’ll know where to find me.”
For a moment, Sam thought the man was going to refuse her request and he was preparing himself to “convince” him when Peter gave her the number.
Dianna picked up the old-fashioned receiver and dialed. “Ellen? It’s Dianna. Is there any word from April?”
Sam watched as her face fell, just as it had when they’d talked to the girl outside the commune’s gates and learned that April was, indeed, still missing. Quickly giving her friend the commune’s telephone number, she disconnected, then dialed another number and typed in what looked like a voice mail access code.
Standing off to the side, Sam felt superfluous yet again. Sure, she’d needed him on the river and the rock. But she’d barely needed him since. Of course he was proud of her for being so strong, for asking the hard questions. And yet, it only confirmed that he had no real place in her life.
But when she hung up the phone and looked at him with tears in her eyes, saying “She hasn’t left any messages on either of my phones,” he finally realized another reason he was here: to pull Dianna into his arms and hold her when all hope seemed lost.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GOING SHACK to shack, they talked with men, women, even teenagers. But no one knew where April was. Apart from the girl who’d stopped them at the chain-link fence earlier that day, the commune’s residents seemed truly sad to hear that April was missing.
“I wish
there was something I could do to help,” said their final interviewee, an attractive woman in her early thirties with a drooling young baby on her lap. “April was always so good with Christy. I swear, sometimes it seemed like she was the only one who could get her to stop crying.”
April was good with babies? Dianna couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about the same person.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen my sister interact with a child before,” Dianna told the woman, who smiled, revealing slightly crooked front teeth.
“Honestly, I think she was scared stiff the first time I dropped Christy into her lap.” Chuckling, she added, “But I’m sure you know what a quick learner she is.”
But Dianna didn’t know that at all. Again, she had to wonder if April really had been growing and changing in a positive way on the commune. Sure, the primitive living situations pushed all of Dianna’s buttons, but could it possibly be that roughing it in the woods was better for her sister than living in Dianna’s penthouse condo in San Francisco?
Just then, the baby started crying and reaching for Dianna.
The woman laughed again. “She must think you’re April. You two really do look a lot alike in so many ways.” Pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead, the mother cooed, “She’s not April, baby girl,” but it only made the baby cry harder.
The baby’s wails tugged at Dianna’s heartstrings and she held out her hands.
“Here. Let me try anyway.”
A moment later, she was cradling the chubby infant in her arms, amazed when the baby’s tears were immediately replaced with a gummy grin. Enthralled by her soft skin, her big brown eyes, and tiny little fingers, Dianna looked up to compliment the mother on her gorgeous child when she caught Sam’s unblinking gaze.
It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was thinking: This could have been them ten years ago, had everything gone differently.
Sensing her distress, the baby started crying again and her mother picked her up out of Dianna’s arms. “I know how exhausted you must be from your journey here today. Again, if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”