The room swayed. In slow motion, the nurse moved toward them. Jennie heard Dr. Paul say, “Help me get her into bed.”
Jennie’s eyes closed. Her knees buckled. Darkness folded around her like a blanket.
She came to for a moment when the nurse touched a cool hand to her wrist to check her pulse. The juice. Dr. Paul put something in my juice. The vague and disjointed revelation drifted in just before darkness fell again.
13
Jennie awoke to the sound of a bell and the smell of food. Silverware clinked.
“I’m sorry to wake you.” Kimberly, the nurse she’d met earlier, touched her shoulder. “It’s dinnertime, and I’m sure you must be hungry.”
Jennie rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Thanks.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her head throbbed. Again. The juice.
“My head hurts,” she told the nurse. “It hurts every time I wake up. Um … I think it’s the juice. What do you people put in that stuff, anyway?” As soon as she’d said it, she wished she hadn’t. At the moment it didn’t seem wise to trust anyone here—not even the nurse or the doctor.
“Our juice?” She frowned. “Hmm. It’s made with all-natural products. Mainly a combination of fruits and herbs. You could be allergic to one of the herbs. It happens sometimes. I’ll tell Dr. Paul.”
“No, don’t bother. The headaches aren’t that bad. They go away after I eat.”
Kimberly nodded. “Well, if they persist, tell us. We can alter the formula for you once we find out what you’re sensitive to.”
“I won’t be around here long enough for that.” Besides, Jennie added to herself, I don’t plan on drinking any more of it. “How’s Gram?” she asked, changing the subject. The curtains around Gram’s bed had been pushed back, and she looked to be sleeping.
“About the same. We’re hoping to see some improvement by morning.”
“I hope so.”
Jennie sat on a nearby chair to put on her boots. Kimberly and Dr. Paul must have taken them off when they put her to bed. Before leaving, she kissed Gram. “Get better. I’ll be by later. I love you.” This time when Jennie took Gram’s hand, there was a slight pressure. Gram knew she was there. That thought nearly took away the headache and the grogginess still fogging her brain.
On her walk across the compound, Jennie mulled over the suspicions she had about the juice. Kimberly had suggested sensitivity to herbs. Jennie wasn’t convinced. She’d been offered juice by Donovan and the doctor when she’d been upset. Each time she’d come away feeling less anxious and more tired. Had they been putting something extra in her drink?
She made it to the dining room just as the residents were standing to offer thanks. Slipping into the vacant spot beside Eric, Jennie folded her hands and bowed her head. At the end of the table blessing, as they went through the buffet line, she offered a silent prayer of her own. Thank you, God, for bringing Gram here. Please make her better so we can leave. And please help us to get out—and to find out what happened to Eric’s family. Amen.
“Mmm,” Eric licked his lips. “Spaghetti, my favorite.” He piled on noodles and a rich red tomato sauce with what looked like ground beef. Another meat substitute. This time she didn’t ask.
“Looks good.” Jennie’s stomach felt as if it had been neglected for a week. She took an ample portion of the main course, a serving of green beans, a tossed green salad, and a buttery slice of garlic bread. When they came to the drinks, Eric poured himself a large glass of juice. Jennie took water.
“How’s your grandmother?” Eric asked as they sat down. “You were gone a long time.”
“The same. I talked to Dr. Paul.” He drugged me. Gave me something that knocked me out. As much as she wanted to tell Eric, she couldn’t. Not here. Not yet. Maybe later when they were alone, though she didn’t think it would do much good. She doubted he’d believe her.
“Here you are, my dear.” The woman seated next to Jennie handed her a glass of juice. “I noticed you forgot yours.”
I didn’t forget. Jennie held back the caustic reply. Instead, she answered with a polite, “Thank you, but I wasn’t going to have any with dinner.”
“Oh.” The woman cast her a look of concern. “You must.”
Several other table mates glanced over at her, nodding in agreement.
“Why?” Jennie tried to keep the annoyance she felt out of her voice.
“For your health and well-being,” her table mate explained. “It’s like a multivitamin—has all our basic requirements. Vitamins, minerals, different herbs …”
“Is there some kind of rule that says you have to drink it?”
The woman beside her smiled. “No rule. Just a recommendation. A tradition, really. I started drinking it forty years ago. Three times a day without fail. Keeps me going strong. I’m eighty-two, you know.”
Jennie didn’t know. The woman did look healthy—wrinkled as a raisin, but healthy.
“It’s wonderful for your complexion too.”
Jennie offered what she hoped was a genuine smile. “You’ve convinced me. But if it’s okay, I’ll wait and drink it after dinner. I don’t usually have juice and spaghetti together.”
“Of course.” The woman, who then introduced herself as Dory, seemed sincerely concerned. Jennie doubted Dory or any of the others knew what she knew. Or thought she did. The juice was tainted—at least hers seemed to be. Or was it? Except for that first day when Marilee had brought juice to her room, it had come from a common pitcher. If it was tainted, wouldn’t everyone be affected? None of these people showed signs of being drugged.
Maybe it’s just what they say it is. They freely admitted there were additives-vitamins, minerals, herbs. Maybe the nurse was right, that Jennie had a sensitivity or allergy to one of them. Still, she had no intention of drinking it. Maybe she could find a potted plant somewhere, or just flush it down the toilet. On the other hand, maybe only the drinks she’d gotten from Donovan and Dr. Paul had been drugged.
By the end of the meal, she’d talked herself out of her paranoia and downed the juice. However, she was still harboring suspicions about Donovan and Dr. Paul.
Three hours later, Jennie suffered no ill effects of the juice she’d had at dinner. In fact, her headache had cleared and she felt refreshed, which made her even more suspicious of Donovan and the doctor. After the evening service Jennie opted out of the fellowship time and hurried across the courtyard to the hospital.
When Jennie reached the halfway mark, she heard someone running behind her. She spun around, fear rising in her throat when she saw a dark figure crouching in the shadows, making his way toward her.
“Jennie,” came a hoarse whisper. “Wait up.”
When the shadowy figure passed a lighted window, her fear shrank. “Eric, what—”
“Shh.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows of a building. “Keep it down,” he whispered. “I need to talk to you.”
“Why all the secrecy? What’s going on?”
“I got to thinking about what you said when we were at the farm. I want to go back, have a look around. I’m heading out tonight and wondered if you wanted to go with me.”
“Right now?”
“As soon as we can get ready.” He glanced around. ‘“Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
He hugged her to him. “I knew I could count on you. The horses are set to go.” His dark gaze met hers as he started to move away.
Jennie’s breath caught at the expression on his face. He closed the distance between them and kissed her. Eric released her and stepped back. He seemed embarrassed and unsure. “I’m sorry.”
Jennie couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t be.” Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. She glanced toward the hospital. “I was just going to see my grandmother.”
Eric nodded. “I’ll wait here for you
.”
Jennie ran the rest of the way to the hospital. She felt a bit guilty at her short stay, but she knew Gram would understand. Maybe now she’d finally get some answers.
Within ten minutes, Jennie was back at the building where she’d met Eric earlier.
“How is she?”
“No change.”
“I’m still praying.”
“Thanks. I am too. She’ll be okay. Gram’s tough.” It had taken enormous strength and endurance to get to the compound. Would she have enough left to get well? Jennie pushed the worry from her mind. She had to be strong enough for both of them.
She followed Eric back to the common room between the two dorms and into the kitchen. They were taking the tunnel to the stables. “I take it no one here knows what we’re doing.”
“I didn’t want them to know. This is a weakness on my part. Donovan would have let me go, but he’d have sent one of the men along. I need to do this myself.” He opened the cupboard door and pulled out the back panel. Handing Jennie the flashlight, he motioned her to go ahead. Once inside the tunnel, Jennie turned and shone the light on him so he could see to properly close the doors.
“Why are you bringing me?” she asked when they moved on.
“You’re smart. You notice things.” He draped an arm around her shoulder and took the flashlight back. “You’re objective. And you’re right.”
“What do you mean?”
“About things not being quite right here. I’ve felt that, too, but never wanted to question it.”
“You think Donovan or someone here might have something to do with your parents’ and brother’s disappearance?” Jennie ducked under a cobweb. “Or those deaths?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not like that. I was talking about their philosophy. They are good and kind people and wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Jennie wasn’t certain about that but didn’t voice her opinion. She didn’t trust any of them. Except Eric and maybe Lois. Jennie heard a thud and then a faint moan.
Eric stopped her. “Listen.”
She swallowed hard, peering into the darkness ahead of them. “I heard it. Sounded almost like someone fell.”
“It came from over there.” Eric lifted the light higher. They moved forward. The beam hit the closed passageway she’d seen on the last trip through there.
“I don’t hear anything now.” He shrugged. “Probably just some of the wood settling.”
“Sounded human to me.”
“Wood can do that.”
They moved ahead, but Jennie kept glancing behind. Secret passageways, locked doors … What she’d heard hadn’t been wood groaning. She wanted to see what lay beyond the locked door. Tomorrow she’d ask Eric or Lois to take her through the tunnels on the other side.
14
“Ow.” Jennie slid off her horse and rubbed her sore rear. “I’ve ridden more since I got here than I have in my entire life. Getting lost didn’t help.”
“We didn’t get lost.” Eric dismounted and grabbed the reins of both horses. “Just took me a while to get my bearings.”
“I know,” Jennie sympathized. She really couldn’t fault him. It had taken over an hour to reach the farmhouse where Eric had grown up. They’d ridden most of the way in intense silence, straining to see the trail and maintain the right direction in the nearly black night. The moon and stars occasionally peeked through the velvet cloud cover, giving them brief moments of clarity.
Snow crunched beneath Jennie’s booted feet. Moonlight glistened on the snow-covered ground, lighting their destination.
“Let’s put the horses in the barn,” Eric said. “They’ll be warmer there, and it’ll be easier to feed and water them.” Puffs of steam escaped his lips as he talked.
Jennie stuffed her cold hands into her pockets. She could use a little warmth too. Her gloves and ski jacket had helped but didn’t stop the bone-chilling cold from seeping through to her skin. She followed him to the building nearest the house. As they entered, a horse whinnied from a far stall.
“What…?” Eric handed Jennie the reins and raced back to where the sound had come from. Beams from the flashlight bounced around the barn. The mystery horse whinnied again.
“Eric?”
“Come on back, Jennie. You’re not going to believe this.”
Following the light, Jennie made her way to the back of the barn. There in the stall was a mare nursing a foal. “Oh, he’s so cute.” She leaned in for a better look.
“This isn’t right,” he mumbled. He unlatched the gate and went in. “Mom and Dad would never go off and leave a horse in labor.” He stroked the horse’s sleek black neck. “Not unless something forced them out.”
“Maybe they didn’t know she was here.”
“They knew. Otherwise she’d be pastured. Someone put her in here.” Eric hung the flashlight from a high nail nearby. “The colt can’t be more than two or three days old—which means they were here then.” Pointing behind Jennie, Eric said, “There’s still some grain in the bin. Grab those buckets on the wall and start feeding the horses. I’ll get some water.”
Jennie doled out feed to all three horses, taking extra time to pet the colt and its mother. After taking care of the horses, Jennie and Eric began their search of the house.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Eric told Jennie as he opened the coat closet in the entry. He ran his hand across the shelf, scattering a layer of dust. It was as empty as the living room. Stripped bare. “Mom wouldn’t have left the place without cleaning it up.”
“Maybe this vigilante group you’ve been talking about threatened them.” Jennie moved into the kitchen and started opening cupboards, shining the flashlight into each. “They got scared and ran, then hired a moving company to pack things up.”
“My dad wouldn’t run.”
“Not even to save his family?”
Eric lifted himself onto the counter near the sink. “I’m worried, Jen. I’m sure they didn’t leave on their own. They were forced out. Maybe taken out to the pasture and killed.”
“Don’t even say that. If someone wanted to kill them, why would they bother moving all the furniture?”
“Because they didn’t want anyone to be suspicious. They wanted it to look like my folks moved out.”
“Is there any possibility there’s something here they’d want and had to get rid of your parents to get it?”
“I can’t think of anything … except maybe the property itself. But if anything happened to my parents, I’d inherit the place.”
“At least we know they didn’t move out on their own.
They were forced. We have to find out who did this.”
“I just thought of something.” Jennie closed the pantry door. “You said you’d inherit, but would you really? Marilee told me that when you join the order, everything you own is turned over to the community.”
“Yeah. I signed over my worldly belongings, but … Hey, I know where you’re going with this, and it won’t work. If you’re implying that Donovan got rid of my parents, you’re crazy. He’d never hurt anyone. Besides, we don’t need money. We make plenty from the products we sell.”
“Property. Your parents’ property borders—”
“I know,” he answered angrily. “But the Colony doesn’t need more property. We have plenty.”
“Okay,” Jennie said. “Calm down. I’m just thinking about possibilities. Whoever forced your parents out and emptied the place had a motive.”
“They knew too much. Suppose Dad or Jake found out what the other ranchers were up to—that they were going to destroy the Desert Colony. He might have threatened to go to the authorities.”
“Yesterday you were practically accusing them of shooting at us.”
“I was angry and frustrated. Lois said Jake was a suspect. I didn’t know what to beli
eve. I just know they wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“I hope you’re right. Let’s finish searching the house for clues, then check the other buildings.”
“What are we looking for?” Eric jumped off the counter.
“I have no idea. Hopefully we’ll know when we find it.” Fifteen minutes later Eric and Jennie left the house. The movers, whoever they were, had been thorough.
Nothing was left—no evidence that Eric and his family had ever lived there.
Eric led the way to the farthest building. “Machine shop,” he answered when Jennie asked what it was. “We store some of the farm equipment in there. Dad has a workshop in it too. He could fix just about everything.” He cleared his throat and turned away, but not before Jennie saw his tears.
“Eric, I’m sorry …” Jennie reached toward him, but he moved on, apparently not wanting to be consoled.
They walked across a pad of concrete and past an old-style gas pump that sat at the side of the building. Weeds had grown up between the cracks. Two double-wide garage doors nearly covered the front. Eric approached the building from the side near the gas tank and opened a smaller door.
Hinges squeaked. Eric held the door until Jennie got in, then let it go. It shut with another screech and a thud. The room smelled like a grimy old garage—grease, oil, gas. Eric directed the light across a cracked concrete floor that was covered with dirt and grime. The beam traveled up, revealing a green John Deere tractor parked in front of the first door. Behind it was an antique yellow truck partially dismantled.
“Dad’s hobby. He loved this old beater.”
The flashlight revealed a wall covered with tools, shelves, and a work counter. “Looks like they forgot about this stuff,” Eric mused. “Dad wouldn’t have left it.”
“Or they haven’t finish loading.” Jennie pointed to the moving truck parked in front of the other set of overhead garage doors. She inched forward, not wanting to think what it meant.
“They weren’t being moved anywhere.” Eric’s voice had gone flat. He pulled a hand through his hair and leaned against the truck. “They’re dead.”
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