by Gerri Hill
CJ stood, pacing. “Okay, we get that the community lives off the grid. But babies are born but not documented?”
“If babies are born, yes, that’s what it appears. Like I said, I haven’t seen children. I’ve asked for them to research it as far back as they can. The community was quite large at one time. Birth certificates—and death certificates, for that matter—don’t exist for most of the residents.”
“Yet some are documented. Predestined?” Paige guessed. “Fiona was documented and went to college. Gretchen too. And the doctor. Of course, presuming at birth that someone is going to be brilliant enough to be a doctor is really rolling the dice.”
“His medical degree is suspect,” Avery said. “From a college in the Dominican,” he said. “That’s the only record of him. Nothing here. If he is actually practicing medicine, it would be very basic.”
“What about here at the school?” Paige asked. “You have a nurse. But what if the kids need emergency care?”
“San Augustine has the closest medical facility. We also have two doctors who come by on a rotating basis.” He smiled to himself. Seven months on the job and suddenly it was “we” when speaking of the school. Perhaps this assignment had grown on him more than he’d realized.
CJ ran her fingers through her hair in what he assumed was a nervous habit. “Okay, let’s get back to the reason we’re here in the first place. The mysterious disappearances. The town’s quirky, sure, but are you suggesting there’s something sinister going on here? As far as I know, there’s not one shred of evidence that links this town to the disappearances. And as weird as this town seems, we’re here to investigate the disappearance, not the community. Right?”
“All I can say is take a drive there. Go by the café. See if you don’t feel it too. It’s a dead town, that’s how I describe it. You won’t see smiles or hear laughter. Muted conversations that stop suddenly. You may only see one person, yet feel eight pairs of eyes on you.” He shook his shoulders as if trying to ward off something. “It’s creepy.”
“Okay, so it’s like a cult of some sort,” Paige said. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“That’s your word, not mine,” he said quickly. “You start throwing the cult word around and people get nervous. But something of the sort, yes.”
CJ sat down again. “What about the staff here? Do they stay away? Are they warned when they take the job?”
“I wouldn’t say they’re warned by the administration, but I’m sure the other teachers fill them in. Turnover rate is very high here. On average, most teachers stay only three years. There are two, a couple, that have been here five. They have the longest stint, if that tells you anything. Gayla Grumfeld is who I’ve assigned to be your mentor,” he said to Paige. “She can fill you in on the intricacies of the school and whatnot.”
“The school has been here, what? Thirty years?”
“Thirty-one,” he corrected.
Paige nodded. “If the town is so isolated and wants to be isolated, why was the school located here? I mean, they obviously have influence on what happens here. Why would the Hogans sell land and allow the school to be built?”
“Money,” he said simply. “Without the school, I think the community would have died long ago. I know what the estimate is on the population, but I’d say it is less than fifty people. To the person driving down the highway, they wouldn’t even notice it.”
“But how does the town handle visits by parents? Assuming that parents visit, that is.”
“It’s very regimented. Parents are allowed one Saturday visit per quarter in which they can take their child out of the compound. Surprisingly, Hoganville puts on a good show. It’s very staged. They welcome the parents in the café with signs. In fact, one of the guys has this huge smoker that they’ll bring out front and barbeque brisket and ribs. It’s quite a hit with the parents,” he said. “Of course, a lot of the parents take day trips out of town. The girls aren’t allowed to be gone overnight. Bed check is at ten p.m. on those days. Nine p.m. on normal nights.”
“How many parents actually come visit? I would imagine a lot of the girls aren’t exactly from model homes and families,” Paige said.
“I’ve been here for two of the quarterly open houses. I would guess less than half of the eligible girls get visits. The school is expensive, so there’s an odd mix here,” he said. “I’m surprised it’s worked, but it has. There are two sectors—blue and red. I classify the reds as just this close,” he said, holding his thumb and index finger an inch apart, “from being sent to a traditional juvenile lockup facility. Those were sent here by a judge and are obviously funded by the state. These are girls who got into trouble and need guidance. Petty thefts, drugs, mostly. First-time offenders really. But still, just basically your run-of-the-mill juvenile delinquents. Then you have those whose families have money and can afford to send their child here.” He shook his head. “Even though they are kept separated, I personally would not send my child here.”
“I’m assuming it’s diverse? More so than the town, anyway,” CJ said.
“Of course. I would say sixty percent white, thirty black, ten Hispanic. But like any school—or prison, for that matter—you have your cliques. You have a group of leaders and a bunch of followers.”
“Gangs?”
“Let’s call them mini-gangs. Again, there’s a lot to go over. That’s why I’ve asked Gayla to assist you, Paige. CJ, you’ll get the rundown from the chief.”
“Okay, how will we communicate with you? Face to face?”
“Not often. It might raise suspicions. Especially CJ. There’s really no reason for one of the campus cops to visit my office.”
“What’s the layout on that? Security guard at the gate. Another here? What else?”
“There are ten security guards, who don’t carry weapons. They split the day and night shifts. Besides the gate, they are in and out of classrooms, the cafeteria and the dorms. There are also six police officers, including yourself. An armed officer is always in the red sector’s classrooms. The gate closes and locks at ten each night, except Saturday. No one else knows the two of you are plants, by the way. We need to keep it that way.”
“How did you manage two new positions?”
“The gym teacher position was actually available. It’s hard to get a single teacher to come here. That’s why most are in pairs. The vacancy in campus security came about quite suddenly,” he said with a smile. “I believe Officer Nelson got an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“And as far as you know, none of the staff associates with anyone in town? Well, besides Fiona and Gretchen.”
“They both live here during the week but stay in town over the weekends. Fiona is very friendly with the rest of the staff. Gretchen, not so much. But I don’t believe Fiona mixes her two lives. Meaning, she’s not introduced any of her personal friends to the staff. At least, not that I’m aware of.”
“Don’t people find that odd?”
“You mean any odder than the rest of it?”
Paige smiled at him. “We really have no idea what’s going on, do we?”
“None whatsoever,” he agreed. He leaned back, deciding not to warn them of the strange cries—screams—he sometimes heard at night. He would let them experience that on their own.
CHAPTER SIX
CJ stared at the bed, then glanced at Paige. Their eyes met for a second, then Paige turned, following Avery back out into the small living area.
“It’s not much, I know. But it’s the only one that’s vacant and clean. The one Officer Nelson lived in is a bit larger, but it’ll need a thorough cleaning.”
“This is fine,” Paige said, going to the window. “It’s like a little suburban neighborhood out here.”
“Yes. But for the most part, everyone gets along well. I’ll let you integrate yourself with them naturally, but they have a weekly potluck dinner or a cookout. There’s no entertainment in the compound, so they’ve learned to make their own. We�
�re forty-five minutes to the nearest town of any size.”
CJ shifted uncomfortably, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she and Paige would be sharing a bed. Avery apparently took her silence as his cue to leave.
“Well, I’ll let you get settled in. You both have my number and e-mail. Most of our communication should be done that way. After you’ve met the staff—I have no doubt some will be over shortly—you might want to take a drive, check out Hoganville. I’d even suggest breakfast at the café tomorrow morning. That should prompt a call from Ester Hogan. She’ll want to know your background. She likes to keep her hand in everything.”
“Oh, what about a uniform?” she asked.
“Yes. You’ve been issued five. They are already in the closet.”
“You’ve thought of everything, it seems.”
“I believe in being organized.” He opened the door, his expression changing. “Again, welcome to Hogan School for Girls,” he said louder than necessary. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”
They watched him walk down the steps and across the yard to his car, then Paige closed the door, leaving them alone. All alone.
CJ swallowed. “Well,” she said, her voice trailing off. She saw movement outside the window. “Wonder why we didn’t close the blinds,” she said.
“Do we have company already?” Paige asked quietly, their eyes meeting.
CJ nodded.
“Great,” she murmured. “Showtime. And I don’t believe I’m ready.” A knock sounded shortly thereafter and again their eyes met. “I’ll get it...honey.”
CJ took a deep breath, forcing a smile to her face. As Paige had said, showtime. They hadn’t even had time to practice.
“I know you two want to get unpacked and all, but we just had to meet you,” said an exuberant redhead with long, straight hair pulled back into a ponytail. “I’m Suzette. This is my partner, Becca.”
“Hi,” Paige said. “I’m the new gym teacher. Paige Riley,” she said as she extended her hand. “And this is CJ Johnston.”
She held her hand out, beckoning CJ to take it. She did, stiffening only slightly as Paige’s fingers entwined with her own.
“We’re kinda new,” Paige explained shyly. “Is it proper to say partner already?”
“Oh, newlyweds,” Becca exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “I love it. How long?”
“Just six months,” CJ said. “I can’t believe we’re here together. This is exciting.”
“Oh, honey, it’s a good thing you’re newlyweds then.” She gave an exaggerated wink. “It’ll give you something to do,” she said with a laugh. “Because exciting is not how I would describe this job.”
“Don’t jade them already,” Suzette said. “Come on, let’s get out of their hair. Burgers at Jules’s place tomorrow. You’re both invited.”
“Jules?”
“Three houses down. Bring your own burgers to grill. There’ll be plenty of side dishes.”
“We’re kinda empty on the food department,” Paige said. “We’re told there’s a grocery store here.”
“Oh, there is, but, honey, I wouldn’t recommend it. Drive the forty miles to San Augustine and be done with it.”
“Is something wrong with the one here?” CJ asked, feeling a light squeeze from Paige’s fingers.
“We don’t have enough time to go into all that’s wrong around here,” Suzette said with a short laugh.
“I think they should stop in,” Becca said. “It’s an experience everyone should have at least once. If they’re open. They keep odd hours.”
“They don’t like lesbians?”
They both laughed. “That’s not it. That, at least, you could explain.” She shook her head. “No, it’s just a weird little place.” She smiled broadly. “Nice to meet you both. Don’t forget burgers tomorrow.”
They let their hands fall apart as soon as the door was closed. CJ tried to lighten the mood.
“Look at that, baby. We’ve already made new friends.”
“I wonder how long they’ve been here,” Paige said, ignoring her comment. “They seem to know enough about the town.”
“Wonder if they know anything about the disappearances?”
“Depends on what local TV stations they get here. I’ll assume Lufkin stations.”
“If they watch local. I think every cabin has a satellite dish.”
“Shame we don’t have a TV,” Paige said, looking at the empty spot on the small entertainment center.
“Good thing we’re newlyweds,” CJ said with a grin.
***
“So you really think it’s just some sort of cult?”
“A cult can have many meanings,” Paige said. “Are you referring to a satanic cult? Or something less sinister, like pagans or even Scientology? Or perhaps occultism, with magic and witches?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Just, you know, a cult.”
“Well, that’s a broad statement. The Nazis in Germany were considered a cult. White supremacists are a cult. Jim Jones and the People’s Temple. David Koresh and the Branch Davidians. Terrorists.” Paige smiled. “Catholics.”
CJ laughed. “Okay, I get your point. Maybe I should wait until I’ve actually seen the place before passing judgment.”
“Of course, a community of over fifty people, that’s a large number to control, to manipulate. I mean, that’s what cults do. But if it has no outside influence, I suppose that makes it much easier.”
There were no signs signaling their approach to Hoganville. The two-lane road sliced through the tall pines, a link between the two national forests where the school was located—the school and the tiny, secluded community. CJ slowed when they first spotted the buildings. They were as Avery had described. Neat and well kept, unpretentious to say the least. An almost too simple sign hung above each door. Hogan Grocery. Hogan Café. The service station had no sign of any sort, only faded numbers advertising the cost of fuel. All three appeared to be closed.
CJ stopped in front of the small grocery store. There was no open or closed sign that Paige could see, and there didn’t appear to be posted hours on the door.
“Where the hell is everyone?” CJ asked.
“Let’s check it out,” Paige said, already opening the door.
The parking lot was gravel, with only cement stepping stones at the entryway of the store. The afternoon heat was hot, but not unbearably so. They stood side by side, both frowning at what they saw.
“Who has blinds on grocery store windows?” CJ asked quietly.
“There aren’t any signs. No advertisements. No sales. Isn’t that odd?”
CJ smiled at her. “Let’s take a bet on how many times we say the words odd, strange or weird.”
Paige leaned closer. “Is it just me or do you feel people watching us?”
“It’s not just you, baby.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Paige saw movement. She nudged CJ. “The blinds just moved, far window,” she whispered.
“This place is creepy.”
“Yes. Let’s add that to the list of words we’ll use to describe Hoganville.”
CJ turned, looking around the empty parking lot. “No noise,” she said. “No dogs barking, no cars. Nothing.” Behind the store—beyond the woods that nearly blocked her view—she had a glimpse of the neat, white houses of the Hogan clan.
Paige took her hand and tugged her back to the car. “I vote we drive to San Augustine for groceries. This whole thing is just...eerie.”
CJ smiled at her. “And another word to add to the list.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ester Hogan ran her fingers over the deep purple robe, still amazed at its softness after all these years. It had been her mother’s, handed down to her thirty-some odd years ago when she took over the flock. It was predestined, she knew, and she had been prepared, but oh, how she had loved it the day her sickly mother gave her the robe. It was with pride that she admitted she was probably the most prepared mother
of them all, even more than her beloved grandmother. She closed her eyes, making a mental note to go visit her grandmother later.
She slipped the robe on, leaving the hood off. For now. The elders would be gathering in the chambers soon, but she would have time to dress fully. The summer heat was already upon them and she allowed herself that little indulgence. The meeting would be longer than they all anticipated, she knew. Fiona, the good sheep that she was, had alerted her to the strangers. Two new women were due at the school. That was why she had ordered the lockdown. She hadn’t had time to place her inquiries. This new director was proving hard to break.
She smiled slightly, her gaze going to her fingers—her nails—and she brushed them softly against the robe. Perhaps Director Avery needed some persuasion. And that too could be fun, she thought. It would give Belden something to do. After all, he had broken the guard, the one they called Richard, in record time.
The ancient grandfather clock chimed the hour, and she dutifully lifted the hood over her head, making her way to the stairway that would take her underground to the tunnels. She used to be afraid of the tunnels when she was young, but now she could find her way blindfolded through the maze and on to the cave and the chambers beyond.
They awaited her—the elders. Then she stopped, smiling broadly. She’d come to love all this ritualistic rhetoric that her great-grandmother had started. She knew the history behind it, of course, but most of the flock did not. To them, this was all they’d ever known.
And all they would ever know.
***
Paige glanced away from the squash she was slicing, still wondering how she’d gotten saddled with fixing their dinner. CJ was on the phone, mostly listening, nodding occasionally. It was Howley, she knew that much, but most of their conversation was one-sided. When CJ put her phone down, Paige waited expectantly.