* * *
Tess was more determined than ever to get inside the Hear Ye compound. They had lots of gardens there, so maybe they had scarecrows too. Tess took her father’s old dowsing wand and drove down the road to the small parking lot. What luck that Lee had said he’d needed her to give a second opinion on his dowsing site, so she had an excuse to come back. Even if she did not locate the girl who had screamed—and she knew how they guarded everyone here—maybe she could at least get more information and then tell Gabe.
She parked and walked up the gentle hill Lee had pointed out. From there, she gazed out over the fenced-in buildings to the fields beyond, stretched out above Cold Creek. Not a scarecrow in sight in the pumpkin patches or gardens with late tomatoes or dying pepper plants tied to wooden stakes. There was a small cornfield, probably just for the use of the community, since so many booths at the Saturday farmers’ market uptown had corn. No scarecrows there either, though she did see a couple of tin pans attached to stakes by strings, dancing in the breeze to keep the birds or raccoons away.
She noticed a more distant field, where they had erected what some around here called hoop houses, plastic-draped tunnels that were unheated but could extend the growing season as if they were little greenhouses. No scarecrows were needed there, though the crops, hidden beneath what looked like long gravestones, would have to be watered.
The dried dowsing wand in her hand made her think of what Mayor Owens had said about her father. She’d wanted to call him for years, but she knew it would upset her mother and sisters. The mayor had warned her and Gabe not to repeat the sins of their fathers. For Gabe, perhaps he meant that he’d better not fail to solve the abductions as his father had. But for her, the warning made no sense.
“Hey, Tess!” Lee’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He was running up the knoll, waving a dowsing wand. She’d figured the guard at the gate had announced her presence. As old-fashioned as the Hear Ye cult people dressed, did they carry cell phones or walkie-talkies to be able to communicate so fast?
“How is everyone?” she asked. “I hope Kelsey and Ethan at least get some time with the gifts I brought them.”
“Oh, sure. Sure, they will.”
It scared her to realize she didn’t believe him, didn’t trust her own cousin. Had Sandy Kenton learned the hard way not to trust the person who must have approached her in the familiar back room of the store, where she played so happily with her mother nearby? Had Tess herself known her abductor and was the shock so awful that she’d forgotten who it was? Maybe the drugs the kidnapper gave her also caused amnesia. But when the drugs wore off, why didn’t her memories come back?
“Tess, don’t look so upset. I’ll see that the kids play with the things and remember who they came from. You’ll see us all again. How about we do a family picnic down by the creek before it gets real cold?”
“That would be great. Lee, I was thinking it would be optimal if you had the well inside the compound,” she said, hoping to get him to take her there. “I see a lot of land there. How about we pace that off, then check out here after? If the same water source you think you’ve found up here could be located on lower ground, then—”
“My task is to be certain there is water here so we can drill outside the fence, not bring in outsiders to drill within.”
Well, she thought, that ploy didn’t work, but then she’d been naive to think walking around with this wand inside the fence would get her inside the building where she’d heard the screams. Annoyed at herself for her desperation, she held her father’s old wand out straight-armed and began to walk the area. This wasn’t what she’d wanted to do, to get back into something she considered kind of...well, esoteric, paranormal, despite Kate’s lecture to her about people like Einstein believing in it. But maybe her try at dowsing for the first time in years would give her an excuse to phone her father, as if to ask for advice.
“I don’t think this old wand is worth much,” she called over her shoulder to Lee.
“Here, use mine,” he said, and brought it toward her. “I don’t want to influence you with what I found, but try toward me just a bit more.”
With his wand, she walked the contour of the hill closer to where he’d stood. Nothing happened. Her arms began to tire. Perhaps as a child, when this came so naturally to her, she believed in it, but now—
The wand jerked downward, even pulled her hands down. She stopped, went back. It happened again. Chills raced through her, the nape of her neck to her stomach. She glanced toward Lee, who looked excited. Then she saw a pale man dressed in light blue, loose, flowing clothes coming up the gentle slope of hill toward them. His hair was stark white, and it seemed he had no eyes at all. Then she saw they were pale gray-blue.
“Bright Star,” Lee said with a nod of his head that was almost like a bow. “This is my cousin Tess Lockwood and I believe she’s verified the water source I’ve found. Tess, our guide and leader, Bright Star Monson.”
Up close, the man seemed to suck all the air toward himself despite the fact that they stood on a windy hill under open sky.
“Tess, the lost sheep who has been delivered,” he greeted her. He extended his hand. She clung to the wand, then pulled one hand away to shake his. Dry, papery skin, cool to the touch. He held her hand. She pulled it back.
“Yes,” she said, “I think Lee has found water here, but on a knoll it might take a deep well.”
“I have been told by experts we are on a large shelf of shale here, but I know deep wells are the best for living water,” Brice Monson replied with a smile. “And how wonderful to have that gift. Believe me, I understand a special gift from God. And I hear you were distressed by the cries from the justice session yesterday. I assure you the child is the better for correction. I can see, though, how that would deeply move a young woman who has suffered much. But we are all one family here, content in whatever state we find ourselves. Of course, we would be delighted should you join us for a worship service someday. Sheriff McCord has been to visit, and all are welcome who have pure intent.”
Brice Monson’s eyes seemed to bore into hers. Could he read her thoughts? Did he know her intent wasn’t pure? Tess shuddered, but hoped the two men thought it was just the breeze. She had a strong urge to flee, but she tried not to show how repulsive Monson seemed to her. Surely she was not reacting to him the way she had done with the scarecrow earlier. Her instant, instinctive aversion to this man must be because she felt he was ruining Lee’s family’s future, not that she recalled him from her own past.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she said. “And I wish you well with your drilling of the well.”
As if she’d said something wildly clever, Monson laughed, displaying large white teeth and a pale tongue. Lee joined in. Tess said goodbye and made herself walk away slowly, but she really wanted to run.
12
With the scarecrow hidden inside two brown paper bags overlapping end to end, Gabe got out of his cruiser and strode from the parking lot toward the main entrance to Mason’s Lumber Mill. The large, loud place was a fourth-generation, family-owned business. It employed a lot of locals and he knew there were plans to expand and hire more.
The sprawling sawmill was now owned and operated by Grant Mason, who had been a good friend of Gabe’s since childhood. In second grade at the Cold Creek Elementary School, their teacher, Miss Sanders, had seated the kids alphabetically by first names, and he and Grant had been buddies ever since. Grant thought Gabe was nuts when he joined the service and was sent overseas and it had been a long time since the two of them had just cut out of town and chilled out somewhere together. They were both working way too hard without women or kids in their lives.