Page 2

Amanda and I did make my fitting that day. I thought maybe she’d be tired from traveling, but we had a great drive and lunch at one of my favorite seafood restaurants while we were in Santa Barbara. I called Deek to cover my shifts for the rest of the week. I was on vacation. As much as any business owner could be on vacation. I still checked in, but th ings were calm.

On Friday, Amanda and I decided to drive to the New Hope compound and check out the open house. Amanda King hadn’t been my biggest fan at first. She’d sided with Jim, Greg’s brother, in the Sherry camp for the first few years of our relationship. Sherry King had been Greg’s first wife and everything I wasn’t. She was glamorous even on the days she stayed home. She loved fashion. I liked watching Project Runway , but I didn’t shop at designer stores. Sherry had opened Vintage Duds, an upscale vintage clothing store, in South Cove with her best friend, Pat Williams. But Sherry moved away a few years ago to a condo on the beach near San Diego and married the guy who’d promised her the world. Pat still owned the store, and now that Sherry was gone, Pat and I had a friendly relationship. I’d heard rumors that Sherry wasn’t happy with this new guy, but so far, she hadn’t returned to South Cove.

Amanda was examining a map she’d brought with her, marking off places she’d seen and those she still wanted to visit. We’d already scratched off three must-see spots from her list, including the elephant seals and the road James Dean was killed on. With the wedding hanging over my head, I thought I was doing an amazing job a s a tour guide.

As we drove toward the compound on Highway One, skirting the ocean, Amanda sighed. “I can’t believe how beautiful it is here. Sherry always put me up in a hotel in Santa Barbara and we hung out there when I visited. We didn’t come into South Cove at all. Of course, Greg was usually working, l ike he is now.”

I couldn’t tell if the comment was a dig at me for not having her stay in a nice hotel or at Greg for working all the time. “Greg takes his job seriously. He’s in charge of the entire police station, including staffing and working with the town. And he’s getting ready for the wedding, so he can’t take time off now. The nice thing is he’s just working his normal hours, so he’s home for dinner with us. You should be here when he’s in the middle of an investigation. Sometimes I don’t see him for days.”

“Oh dear.” Amanda looked over at me. “I sounded like I was complaining. I know Greg has to work. That boy has always been the one to take care of everyone. I’m just glad I’m here for your big day next week. Where are we going this morning again?”

“The New Hope compound. They’re having an open house for the town today.” I explained their name and mission statement as I understood it. “I’ve heard the compound is beautiful.”

“So they’re a religious organization?” Amanda leaned forward as we pulled up to the gates. Men in suits were meeting each car before they sent them into the compound. “Seems like a lot of security for a church.”

I didn’t disagree. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw someone taking pictures of the license plates of each car that drove through. I pulled the Jeep up to the man with a clipboard. “We’re here for t he open house?”

“Can I see your driver’s license, please?” the man asked, not looking at me.

“Excuse me?”

“Your driver’s license. The open house is limited to residents of South Cove and their guests. It’s just a safeguard. We’ve had issues with nonbelievers trying to break in and cause problems.” Now the man looked at me. He smiled, but the emotion didn’t hit his eyes. He was cold as ice. “I’m sure y ou understand.”

I dug out my driver’s license and handed it to him. We weren’t getting in without me agreeing to it. One more reason I didn’t trust Matthews or his crew. He didn’t trust anyone. “Here you go.”

He looked at the name, then checked off something on his clipboard. “Thank you, Ms. Gardner. Is your significant other joining us today? Reverend Matthews would love to chat with him.”

“Detective King is working, but he said he might try to break away from his desk later to visit.” I glanced at Amanda, who was watchin g the exchange.

“And your guest? Can I get her name?” He smiled that same cold s mile at Amanda.

“I’m Amanda King. Detective King’s mother.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you want a birth certificate or a vial of blood?”

The guard wrote her name down by mine. He handed me back my license. “That won’t be necessary. Please en joy your tour.”

I glanced behind us as we went through the gates and saw another man checking his phone to see if the photo he’d just taken of my plates had turned out. A third man pointed the way to a parking lot. As we followed his directions, I saw another guard standing with Molly Cordon off to the side. She was pointing at the buildings and yel ling something.

“Did that woman just climb the fence?” Amanda turned in her seat to watch as we drove past the argument. The guard realized people were watching, so he took Molly’s arm and walked her back to the guardhouse. I kept an eye on them in my rearview mirror as they turned the corner and disappe ared from view.

“I think she did.” I pulled into a spot and turned off the engine. “T hat was weird.”

“You all are very detailed in your security systems out here.” Amanda got her purse off the floor and nodded to more men in suits near the walkway. “I’ve counted ten guards so far and we haven’t even been ne ar the silver.”

I snorted as we got out of the Jeep. I locked it, glad I’d put the top back on last weekend before Amanda showed up. “Well, let’s go see what they are hiding in Fort Knox.”

“I don’t think they’re going to show us that part of the compound.” Amanda took my arm as we walked up the pathway. We passed another guard, his arms folded and an earbud in his ear. “What a beautiful day to be outside. The landscaping is so well maintained. It takes a lot of love to have grou nds like this.”

The guard smirked a s we walked by.

After we’d gotten out of earshot, Amanda looked at me. “I believe this is going to be a very entertaining and info rmative visit.”

Up ahead, the pathway divided into three different directions. A paper sign that read Open House, this way had been taped over the permanent wooden sign. The wooden sign indicated that we were heading to the meetinghouse. The other two paths were to the women’s dormitories to the left, and the men’ s to the right.

“Apparently there are no family units here. I wonder if they have more than one complex.” Amanda slowed down a little and I glanced over to see if she was okay. She’d gone through two sessions of cancer treatment in the last two years. She was in remission, but her body was severely weakened from the poisonous treatments that hopefully killed the cancer. She nodded. “I’m fine, it’s just a bit of a walk from the car.”

I glanced around and saw a bench near where the path divided. “Let’s sit a moment and enjo y the flowers.”

She let me lead her over to the bench and sank onto it. “Sorry, I get tired easily. But I am determined to keep building my endurance. I want to dance all night at y our reception.”

“I’m glad you came out early.” It had been a bit of a shock, but it had been nice to get to know Amanda a little more before I became part of the family.

“After you put off the wedding twice, I didn’t want anything I was going through to affect this date. If I fall here, the hospital is nearby. I can get a day pass to attend the ceremony.” She patted my arm. “You look like I just scared yo u. I’m joking.”

Except I knew she wasn’t. My phone rang as we were sitting. “Hold on a seco nd, it’s Greg.”

When I answered the phone, he didn’t even waste time on a greeting. “What are you doing?”

“Your mom and I are at the open house for New Hope. I’m sure I told you about it last night.” I could hear the anger in his voice. Had he expected us to be home? “What’s wrong?”

“No, not where are you. Why did you send me this resume?” He was talking about the email I’d sent ove r that morning.

I had been going to give it to him last night, but I’d forgotten. “Oh, sorry, I misunderstood. That’s for the state position you’ve been talking about. I think I have all the dates and jobs right, but you need to review it. Especially since they are such sticklers for accuracy.”

“I never asked you to do this.” He didn ’t sound happy.

From the tone of his voice, I was missing something big. “I know. I was just being helpful. I know this is a big step.”

Amanda was looking at emails on her phone, trying not to listen to the conversatio n. And failing.

“Stay out of my career. If I wanted your help, I would have asked for it. Besides, your dates are wrong on the South Cove job,” he muttered, clearly read ing the resume.

“I just wanted to help.” I tried to explain, but he cut me off.

“Jill, this is important. Don’t mess with my career. You have your bookstore to look after. I’m a big boy and can make my own decisions.”

I started to tell him that I knew that, but the line had gone dead. He’d terminated the call. I put the phone back into my purse.

“Everything okay?” Amanda asked from beside me.

I stood and smiled, probably looking like those guards had when they’d smiled at us. “I’m fine. Greg’s fine.” I added to myself, We’re fine . I just hoped that was true. I hadn’t heard Greg that mad for a long time. Something I’d done had triggered this reaction and I still didn’t know what or why. Maybe this was the orange that Deek had seen in my a ura on Tuesday.

The meetinghouse was a log structure. It had tall ceilings and tons of windows. One wall looked out over the ocean. The building had been built on a hill, so you could see for miles. I would bet you could even see whales in the distance. The large foyer had handouts on a table and a large library on one side of the room. I wandered over to the library as Amanda went to find a restroom. Now that I was alone, I thought about calling Greg back, but I decided to let him cool down a bit before I delved deeper. We co uld talk later.

The library had a variety of books, from philosophy to memoirs to current fiction titles. The lower shelf on each bookcase was filled with children’s books. It was mostly secular, but there were a few shelves of books on world religions. There were more versions of the Bible than I even knew existed. King James, NIV, and others focused on women’s studies or teen s or even kids.

“My favorite is the Bible comparing Greek to the King James version. It brings us much closer to the original meaning that the authors had for the books as they were written. It’s huge, but so worth the read.” Kane Matthews stopped beside me, then pulled out a book and opened it to a random page to show me. He’d come up behind me without me noticing. “It’s all about the context, where an author’s coming from, do n’t you think?”

I didn’t look at the book. Instead, I turned to meet Kane’s gaze directly. “I think it’s always about context. Words can mean so many different things. You have to have the context to be able to correctly inter pret any work.”

He smiled and nodded, reshelving the book as he did. “Now, there’s something you and I agree on. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“You have a lovely library.” He somehow looked softer today. Maybe it was the shared affiliation to books that was helping. I nodded to the shelves. “I’m surprised your flock even needs to buy new books from my shop.”

“There’s always room for another book.” His eyes twinkled for a second. “To read a story that someone created out of thin air? Now that’s a blessing. You must feel that way about books. You sell them for a living.”

“Authors do have a type of magic. Some call it the muse, others inspiration. The good ones, anyway. They can spin a tale with just a few starting points.” She nodded to the great room they were in. “This building is beautiful. Do you only use it for services?”

He pointed to a door hidden between two shelves of books. “That’s the way to my office and the restrooms. I spend most of my time there during the day. Preparing my sermons, what I like to call my talks. Reading sp iritual texts.”

“Oh, so it’s an administrative building?” It definitely would be amazin g to work here.

“No, this building is where we live, most days. There are a few offices, like mine, carved out of the space here. On normal days, people are here studying, working, and, of course, eating. The dorms are for sleeping or when you need some time to yourself.” He pulled out another book and pressed it into my hands. “I want to give you something. I feel like we aren’t communicating well. This book explains a lot o f our beliefs.”

I glanced down at the book, titled The Four Agreements . “You don’t have to give this to me. I can order a copy for myself. If I don’t have it curre ntly in stock.”

“I’ve made notes in this one. I think you’ll find it most interesting.” He glanced over at the door, then tucked the book into my tote. “I won’t let you lea ve without it.”

“Okay, then.” I tried to follow his gaze, but he turned me away from the door. This was getting weird. I was beginning to regret coming. “I’ll read it and let you know what I think at the next business-to-bus iness meeting.”

“That would be lovely. I look forward to talking with you about the contents.” He took me by the arm and led me over to where a table had been set up for refreshments. “Have you tried any of our delectables? The goat cheese is made on-site. And of course, all our breads and sweets are made here in our bakery.”

“I’ll have to try some.” I glanced around the room to see if I could find Amanda. I wanted an excuse to end thi s conversation.

“You sell bakery items in your shop. Maybe you’d be interested in talking about switching your supplier.” He stepped closer and handed me a business card. “I’m sure we can beat the prices you’re paying.”

“I have a relationship with Pies on the Fly. I probably won’t be needing another supplier.” To be truthful, even if the New Hope product was cheaper, I wasn’t going to switch. Sadie Michaels, the owner of Pies on the Fly, was one of my best friends. The only way I’d need a new supplier was if Sadie clo sed her bakery.

“That’s unfortunate. I know Diamond Lille’s is considering taking on our business.” He smiled and tapped the card. “Keep that handy. You may find you need our products so oner or later.”

He walked away and greeted someone else. It had all been a sales job. I should have known. I bet the book talked about their bakery products too. I felt a hand touch my arm and I jumped. Amanda stood next to me, her eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry, just a little edgy. Let’s continue our tour.” We moved past the treats. Women were standing with trays, waiting for people to take a cookie or other sample. They didn’t say anything, just smiled. I scanned the group to see if the missing girl, Carlie, was part of the welcoming committee, but she wasn’t there. I wondered if Reverend Matthews had seen the missing person posters all over town.

I didn’t take anything, even though the chocolate mini pie looked so good. It was the principle. I didn’t want Kane to see me eating one. We walked into the chapel and stood to the side. The stage in front was huge and had a television screen to match. They could watch movies here. Instead of pews, there were couches lined up in the room. The first two rows were all recliner chairs. Apparently, these were available for the most importa nt worshippers.

There was a video running on the large screen. People singing in what appeared to be a choir, but the songs, though uplifting, weren’t hymns. They were pop standards from the oldies station. The pictures showed parishioners working in the meetinghouse. Chatting, and talking over dinners, and some were praying, eyes closed in their place on the couches.

On the screen, Kane took the stage and started talking. The sermon was on personal responsibility. Being true to your word. He was magnetic. The camera panned over the audience, their eyes closed and heads lifted up. I could see that other visitors were listening to Kane’s words and nodding along. I wondered if they even knew they were doing it. The man could sell ice cre am to Alaskans.

An elbow dug into my side and Amanda leaned close. “Do you think they’re prayin g or sleeping?”

I swallowed a giggle and we moved on. When we walked through the next door, we found ourselves outside in a backyard, surrounded by buildings. A playground was to the side, by what appeared to be the women’s dormitories. Although there were several women members standing and helping with water or sodas, there were no children out there. Guards stood around the yard watching as people came and went from the area.

A man greeted the group that had just left the meetinghouse. “This is our communal yard. Our members enjoy being outside and we spend a lot of time here when we’re relaxing. We eat out here as often as the weather allows.” He went on to point out the dorms, the bakery, the laundry, and t he schoolhouse.

Wherever the kids that attended the school were, they weren’t on display today. I scanned the buildings and saw a young woman standing in the window of the women’s dorm. She was watching the tour. She looked like the picture of the missing girl. Our gazes met and she waved at me. I started to raise a hand, but then she was gone, pulled away f rom the window.

When the guide, Maxwell, asked if we had any questions, I raised my hand. “How many peo ple live here?”

“We’re up to five hundred souls as of our last meeting.” He smiled as he held out his arms. “We’ve been welcoming so many new members, we’re starting work on another set of dormitories. Who else has questions?”

I pushed on. “How many kids attend school here? And where are they? I haven’t seen a child sin ce we arrived.”

Maxwell’s mouth tightened into a line, and the guards who were near the doors stepped closer to me. I figured three questions were too many. He took a breath and I saw him shake his head. The guards behind me stepped back in place. “We feel that the children are here in our care. Adults choose this life. The kids aren’t old enough to choose, so we are keeping them out of the limelight, so to speak. But to try to answer your question, our schoolhouse can accommodate up to a hun dred students.”

Amanda met my gaze. He’d skirted the question, but the warning in her eyes made me rethink my usual persistent nature. I let go of the next twenty questions that had poppe d into my head.

Maxwell nodded, and when there were no more questions, he smiled. “Feel free to hang out here in the sunshine. When you’re ready to leave, the path to your left will take you past our vegetable garden and back to the parking lot and your cars. Thank you so much for visiting o ur home today.”

We wandered around the yard, but everywhere we went, guards were close by, watching us. I’d made us a target. There would be no sneaking off-tour today. If Carlie was here, she was hidden away with the children and mos t of the women.

I took Amanda’s arm. “Are we ready to head back to the house? Or maybe we should stop and grab lunch on the way. I know a perfect little seafood restaurant that overlo oks the ocean.”

“This was lovely, but I’m feeling a little worn out. I’d love to go get some clam chowder.” Amanda smiled as we passed by another guard. “And maybe a glass of wine. Do you think the members he re drink wine?”

When we got into the car, she leaned back against the headrest. “Greg told me that you can be a little direct when things don’t add up. I think you just found an other mystery.”

“Remember the woman we saw arguing with the guard, who you thought climbed the fence?” I told her about talking to Molly Cordon the other day about her missing daughter. “I wanted to see if we could spot her, but they didn’t have many women out to meet the community. Most of those women who were serving food and drinks, I’ve seen in my bookstore.”

I would talk to Greg when he got home. The girl I’d seen in the window may not have been Carlie, but she’d had the same long blond hair. It was wo rth mentioning.