Always Watching

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The morning was dismal and wet. I was glad that I’d dressed in jeans, hiking boots, and my warm goose-down coat when I got out at the driveway of the old commune, the rain sneaking in under my skin, turning my hands red with cold. Steve’s truck was already parked on the road, and behind it, a black SUV, with tinted windows. Inside, a dog barked. Steve and another man, also lean and tall, but with a hard-lined face and snow-white hair and mustache, were standing near the SUV, stainless-steel coffee cups in hand, steam billowing up into the cold air. As I walked over to them, the dog barked short, deep warnings.

Steve introduced me, and I shook his friend’s hand as he said, “Ken.”

As soon as Ken got his German shepherd, named Wyatt, out of the back of the truck, the dog was working, sniffing the ground in a back-and-forth pattern, anxious on the end of the long rope. Ken explained that they would do a preliminary search first, to see if the dog picked up on anything, then a finer grid search in some likely areas. He warned me that if there was a body, it had been buried for so long the dog would have to be within a couple of feet to pick it up.

I followed behind as we headed down the trail, feeling safer this time with the men and the dog. Ken called out commands, his voice seeming loud in the quiet forest, while the dog worked the ground as they moved closer to the barn.

The river roared in the background, and the surroundings drifted away as the scent of wet forest, leaves, and dirt enveloped me, bringing with them a new memory.

I’m down at the river. Aaron orders me to stand naked against a tree, the bark wet and rough against my skin, while he stares at my body, slapping my hands with a switch if I try to cover any part of myself.

He says, “Separate yourself from your physical body. Feel the sensations, but don’t attach to the discomfort, just observe. Control your shivering.”

At first, the pain of the cold and the humiliation is excruciating. I think I’m going to scream from it, but then I focus on the sound of the river, a bead of rain dripping off a leaf, chanting my mantra in my mind, until I’m able to separate from the pain, aware of it, but distantly. Then it doesn’t matter what he does.

The sound of Ken calling his dog broke me out of the memory. Still shaking off the lingering shame and anger the memory had roused, I skirted the edge of the old barn. The rain made the wood slick and wet, the scent of old barn and rot even stronger. Ahead of me, Steve was waving his arms, trying to catch my attention. I walked toward him. He was standing at the side of the barn, pointing to the ground. “This the spot?”

“That’s it.”

The dog was pacing back and forth in tighter and tighter circles, then started pawing at the dirt. He took another couple of sniffs and sat, his eyes focused on Ken’s face. A shiver spider-walked up the base of my neck.

Steve and Ken began to dig, while the dog and I watched. The rain was coming down harder now, and I pulled my hood up over my head, moving a little in place to keep warm. Neither man showed any sign of stopping, grunting in exertion, their breath billowing out. My body was stiff, my hands tucked into the crooks of my arms, everything in me waiting, waiting. My mind filled with images of bones, stark and white in the wet earth. Steve stopped, stood straight, still staring down. I held my breath, my legs carrying me closer.

He glanced at me and said, “Just stretching,” then rubbed his back. I stopped, embarrassed. They dug a little while longer, and the tension began to ease in my body. It would take them a while to get down deep. The earth was heavy and wet, and they had to work around roots and rocks. I started to wander around again, keeping them in sight. They struggled to break up one root, then paused, looking down at something. Their voices low, I couldn’t hear them over the river. My blood whooshing in my ears, I started back toward them.

Steve turned in my direction. “Looks like the body of an animal, maybe a goat or something.”

The air came out of my chest. “Oh, thank God.”

Ken said, “We’ll just do a general search over the area, and see if Wyatt shows some interest anywhere else.”

I nodded. While Ken and Wyatt worked, Steve followed behind, and I had a better look at the commune. More memories came back when I got closer to one of the cabins, noticing the groove below where I used to hide. I dropped to my knees, peered into the dark, then turned and looked out at what my vision would’ve shown—mostly the campfire. I walked behind one of the cabins and stared out into a clearing, remembering when we’d chant as a group, our breaths exhaling as one. I skirted around the edges of the field, hearing Aaron in my mind.

I can end all your suffering.

I stopped at some plants on the side, an image coming to mind: a sea of red poppies in bloom. Aaron had told us their color symbolized resurrection after death, and we’d harvested the seedpods, probably for opium. I reached out and touched one of the leaves. My body flooded with another new memory.

I’m down on the ground. Aaron’s hand is wrapped tight in my hair, his breath panting in my ear as he starts undoing my shorts. My hands reach for help, finding only poppies, their sick, sweet scent filling my nostrils. The air’s so hot that I can hear the bark crackling on the arbutus trees as it peels back in the sun. Fragments break off and drift down, spiraling closer like brown butterflies.

Steve’s voice snapped me out of the memory. “Nadine.”

I was disorientated, a leaf crumpled in my hand, still caught somewhere between the past and the present. When was I in the field with Aaron? What else had happened?

Steve spoke again, louder now. “Nadine?”

I dropped the leaf, brushing its juices from my palms as I turned. “Yes?”

“Wyatt did a preliminary search, but he’s not alerting anything. We’ll spot-check a few areas, but he’s starting to lose interest.” He noticed my arms tight around my body. “If you want to get going, I can—”

“I’ll stay.”

I followed Steve back to the center of the commune, then kept close as Wyatt worked the field in a grid, and along the riverbank, anywhere it might be easy to bury a body. The dog was moving slower now, his tail drooping.

Finally Ken said, “He’s done for.”

I walked with them to our vehicles. As Ken put Wyatt back in the truck, I said, “He’s a beautiful animal. My brother has a shepherd, too.”

“Yeah, they’re good dogs.” Ken reached in and gave Wyatt a scratch.

Steve gave me a look. “How is Robbie?”

I startled. “You know my brother?” I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned it the first time I came up.

“When I was still on the force, I had to break up a fight he was in at the pub.”

I wrinkled my brow. “What was the fight about?”

“Don’t know. The other two guys took off. It took a couple of us to settle Robbie down, and he wouldn’t tell us what happened.” He held my gaze. “He had a pretty bad temper.”

Something about the way he said it felt like a warning, which confused, then angered me. “He was younger. He’s worked through his issues.” I had no idea if that was true or not, but he was my brother.

Steve nodded, and then smiled. “We’ve all got issues.”

I followed the men back to the main road, but they kept going straight to the village, and I turned toward my brother’s. In case it got back to him that I was in town, I wanted him to hear it from me first. I also wanted him to know about Lisa. He’d always had a soft spot for her, and if he’d had any memories of the commune that he wasn’t sharing, he might change his mind knowing she could be at risk.

He was working in the shop again. Brew gave a woof and bounded over to me, sniffing at my legs for traces of Wyatt. Robbie straightened up from the workbench where he’d been sharpening the blade on a chain saw, the tool still in his hand. He looked over my shoulder, studied the mud on the car. I watched his face, the way his jaw muscles tightened.

I said, “Hi, I wanted to let you know that Lisa might be at The River of Life Center.”

He turned back to me, his face confused. “Whatya mean?”

I told him everything, then added, “If she’s gone there, she could end up staying. So I’m hoping that the center will get shut down. Tammy, the woman I found, she might go to the police, but she’s still struggling with the decision.”

“Does Aaron know you’re talking to people?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“He’s not going to like this.”

I thought about the truck rushing past, the hang-ups, the feeling of being watched, wondered again if it was someone from the commune. “No, you’re right. He won’t, but there’s not much I can do about that.”

Robbie picked up on my tension. “Has he come after you?”

“I’ve been getting some strange calls and a couple of drive-bys.”

“You should just back off and forget—”

“He’s hurting people, Robbie. You wouldn’t believe the things he’s doing now. He’s got these chambers, where he basically starves people, and—”

“He’s starving them?” His face was stunned, his mouth open, eyes wide.

“Yes, in isolation chambers.” I told him everything Tammy had shared.

Now he was pacing, back and forth, like a boxer in a ring without an opponent.

“Fuck. I told you—they’re messed up.”

“That’s why I have to do this. There’s a woman, her name’s Mary. She was from the commune, and she still lives out by the river. Did you know that?”

He looked wary again. “No, but Mom used to go see some woman.”

My turn to be shocked. Mary hadn’t mentioned anything about spending time with my mother after they’d left the commune.

Robbie was studying my car again. “Where did the mud come from?”

“I met with a retired police officer out at the commune. Steve Phillips…”

Robbie turned back to the saw and began to sharpen, the tool making a rasping sound in a steady rhythm. “Yeah, I remember Steve.”

“He remembers you too.” I paused, waiting for him to inquire further, or give me some acknowledgment, but the rasping continued.

I added, “He said he busted up a fight you were in years ago.”

Now Robbie turned around, his face angry. “I told you not to talk about me to cops. Why the hell would he tell you that?”

“He’s retired, and I didn’t ask. He brought it up. He has a friend who has a cadaver dog. We searched the commune site, and—”

Before I could get the words out Robbie said, “You searched the site? What for?” His face was shocked.

“For Willow.” Then I told him about Mary’s finger.

Robbie shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that, but Willow, she got the hell out of there. Last time I saw her, she was hitchhiking on the logging road back to town—the morning she split from the commune.”

I was confused. “How did you see her? Weren’t you sleeping?”

“I’d gotten up early to go fishing at the big pool down by the bridge. I was just coming back when she was leaving.”

I paused, thinking it through. “But you still don’t know if she made it out. If she couldn’t get a ride, she might have returned and—”

“No, I saw one of the logging trucks stop for her—a red one.”

His last statement connected with a thud. I thought of Larry, of his big red truck and his leering at pretty seventeen-year-old girls. Was it possible he picked her up? Heat infused my face. All the time we’d been out there searching, and Willow was probably living somewhere with three grandkids by now.

I waited to see if Robbie would add anything, but he was quiet. I was ashamed to realize that I wanted to be right about this, wanted to believe that I hadn’t just been chasing ghosts. Now I feared I’d been wasting everyone’s time. I still had a few questions.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Willow?”

He gave me a what-are-you-talking-about look. “I was friends with everyone in the commune.”

“You were more than friends.” I didn’t really know if it was true, but something made me say it.

His face flushed, and his mouth tightened. “I was more than friends with lots of the girls. What’s your point?”

What was my point? Was I actually accusing my brother of lying to me?

“I just wondered if you knew anything else that might help me find her.”

“What’s going on with you? I didn’t know anything else about her, okay. She was just some chick at the commune. I hear from you once a year, and now you’re on me every day about this shit. Why do you care so much about her?”

I hadn’t seen Robbie this angry in years. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ve been pressuring you.”

Robbie’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but he still looked upset. I watched Brew, who was watching Robbie, his eyes anxious, a low whine starting from his throat. He came over and sat near Robbie’s feet, bumping against him. I wondered myself why I was so obsessed with finding Willow. Then it came to me.

“I guess because I wasn’t able to help my patient, I’ve fixated on Willow.”

He nodded. “Are we done with this? I’ll hose your car off.” I knew it was a peace offering, but I still felt frustrated. My brother was shutting me out, again.

“Thanks. That would be great.”

As he rinsed off my car, I remembered that I’d also wanted to ask him about Levi. He’d reacted badly to my previous questions, but he’d been friends with Levi, so I didn’t think it should be a problem. I said, “Steve also told me that Levi moved back here, and he runs the ski school. Did you know that?”

He kept spraying the car in swoops. “Yeah, I knew he was here.”

“I might go talk to him.”

“What do you want with Levi?”

“I told you. I’m trying to find witnesses. Why did you tell me that no one from the commune lived here anymore?”

This time it was an outright accusation: You lied to me.

He didn’t bother defending himself, just kept spraying the car. I was starting to get angry with his avoiding my questions—avoiding me. I moved around the hose, standing within his eyesight. He still didn’t look up.

“What happened? You two used to be close.”

“People change.” He finally met my gaze. “Don’t talk to him about any of this unless you want it all over Shawnigan. He has a big mouth.”

“So you’ve never spoken to him since he came back?”

He paused, a tiny hesitation, and then said, “Nope.”

My brother had lied to me again.

After I left Robbie’s, I thought over our conversation. His desire to keep me from talking to Levi was obvious, but I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t want to break whatever tentative relationship we were forging. But I had a feeling Robbie was hiding something—something that Levi knew. Part of me wasn’t sure if I wanted to open this door, but I’d already come too far to pull back now. In the end, still wrestling with my loyalty to my brother, I decided to take the long way around the lake and drive by the marina to check things out and maybe spot Levi.

As it happened, just as I neared the marina, I noticed a man pulling up to the dock in a ski boat, the flash of his ginger-colored hair catching my eye. Was that Levi? I took a closer look. It was definitely him. Now I also realized whom I’d seen that day at the pay phones by the store.

I slowed my vehicle to a crawl, still debating whether I should talk to him. He leaped out and began tying up the boat, then turned, like he’d felt someone’s gaze on him, and surveyed the parking lot. Our eyes met. At first he looked confused, then a startled hint of recognition, followed by more confusion. He knew me, but he wasn’t sure how. I pulled over and parked the car. He continued to tie up the boat, glancing in my direction once in a while.

I walked toward him, my stomach suddenly tight and rolling, my hands clammy. Blaming it on the sway of the wharf, I took a few deep breaths and planted my feet square. “Hello, Levi. I’m not sure if you remember me….”

He stopped what he was doing and took another look at my face. I was about to give my name when he said, “You’re Nadine.”

So his confusion hadn’t been about not recognizing my face, but something else. I’d misread his expression. Another person who didn’t want to be reminded of their time at the commune?

“You do remember me?”

“You look just like your mother, thought I was seeing a ghost.”

I was feeling the same way. I flashed to the image of Coyote’s limp body, mouth hanging open, slack as the water ran out. I shook off the thought.

We studied each other. I was uncomfortable, but not sure why. Then a gust of cold wind blew off the lake, making me shiver. Levi noticed, saying, “Did you want to go into my office?” He gestured behind me. I turned and saw that he had a cabin beside the lake, with its own private dock and wharf, where boats, Jet Skis, and paddleboats were lined up, most of them covered for the season.

“Sure, that might be better.”

In his office, which was in the front room of the cabin, I spotted a door leading off into what I assumed were his living quarters. He offered a coffee, from an old coffeemaker that had seen better days. I passed and watched as he poured himself a cup, then sat behind the desk, tapping his pen on a pad of paper. He had an aged-surfer look about him, his face weathered from sun. He also radiated a wired-up energy, his eyes never quite meeting mine, and he was thin, almost gaunt. He sniffed, tossing his head in a quick backward motion. Drugs?

He said, “So what brings you up here?”

I noticed the use of the word “up.” So he knew I lived in Victoria. Who’d he been talking to? My body stiffened, but I kept my tone friendly as I said, “How did you hear I moved to Victoria?”

He narrowed his eyes, like he was thinking, shrugged. “Don’t know, someone must’ve mentioned it.” I thought about the day I’d seen him on the phone outside the museum, suspecting he’d gone over after and asked about me.

“I was just visiting Robbie.”

“What’s he up to these days? Still running the excavator?”

I nodded. So he knew a little about Robbie. I didn’t want to show my cards, but I wanted to test whether Robbie had lied or not about talking to him. “Things seem to be going well for him, but I guess you already know that.”

Another tap of his pen. “Haven’t seen Robbie for years, just his truck around town.”

I decided to cut to the chase. “Why did you leave the commune?”

He stopped tapping but smiled his goofy grin, reminding me of the happy kid that he was, at least until his father died, and the grin had become scarce.

“That’s kind of a personal question.”

“So you don’t want to answer it?”

He laughed. “I don’t care, just thought it was a funny question. I left because they were freaks.”

“I heard some bad things have been going on there.”

His smile faded a bit. “Aaron, he’s twisted, man. Like really twisted.” His voice took on a bitter tone. “He’d preach all this stuff about freedom, but then he kept a tight rein on all the pot and everything. I hated that place.”

Aaron had called marijuana our salvation because it was the closest we could come to experiencing the bliss we’d find on the other side. None of the members were allowed any for personal use, and it was only doled out by Aaron. If Levi had a drug problem, as I suspected, it would have been difficult for him at the center. I also sensed there was something deeper to his anger, an embarrassment, and I wondered if he’d been made to leave.

“Can you tell me more?”

“I try not to think about that time, you know? I like to just live for today.” He gestured toward the lake. “That’s my religion now.”

Living for today or running from the past?

I said, “Is your mother still there?”

“No, she died before I left.” When he ran his hand through his hair, his sweater gaped at his forearm, showing a crescent-shaped scar. He caught my stare and quickly pulled his arm back down, watching me now, the smile gone, like he was waiting for me to make a comment. I thought of Mary. Had his scar also been a punishment? This time no memories came back, but still the feeling of unease.

I said, “Your scar. Did you get that in the commune?”

He laughed. “Nah, just drunk and stupid on the boat one night.” He laughed again, but something didn’t feel genuine. Before I could put my finger on the reason or ask for details, he changed the subject. “So why you want to know about the commune? You writing a book or something?”

He said it like a joke, but again I had a feeling he might’ve talked to the girl at the museum, and now he was trying to find out what I was up to.

I decided to go with the straight approach, maybe shock him into answering truthfully. “For years I’ve suffered from claustrophobia and memory loss.” I explained about psychogenic amnesia, leaving out Heather and just saying that a recent event had triggered memories of being sexually abused. “I’ve been trying to find people who used to live in the commune, to see if there could be more victims.” I also decided to keep Tammy and Mary to myself for now.

He sat back in his chair, his face a portrait of shocked dismay. “No shit, oh crap, jeez, I’m sorry to hear that.” His eyes seemed honest, but the way he said, “Man, that’s terrible,” like he was trying to convince me he was upset, had me wondering. He added, “What’s it called again? Memory suppression?”

I nodded. “That’s right.”

“And they just come back on their own?”

“Some. Some of them I have to focus on.”

“Isn’t that stuff kind of hard to prove in court?”

“Yes, well, that’s why I’m trying to find possible witnesses.”

He said, “Wish I could help. I remember you spending a lot of time with Aaron. You guys were always down at the river, but I never saw anything, you know?” His expression was one of disappointment, his tone saying, Sorry I can’t help more. Still, I thought about how the courts would look at those facts, how they would look to anyone else. He was a nice man, just trying to teach her to swim. She’s making it all up.

I blinked a couple of times, cleared my throat. “What about after, when you moved down to Victoria. Did you witness any sort of physical violence or abuse? You mentioned they were ‘freaks.’ Care to shed some light on that?”

He’d been rocking back and forth in his chair, but he stopped abruptly. “I told you, I don’t like talking about that stuff, okay?”

So, yes, he’d seen something.

I said, “Okay. I can respect that. I didn’t mean to stir up anything. I know how painful those memories can be.”

He looked away, got up, and poured himself another cup of coffee. I wondered if I should mention what Steve Phillips had told me about Levi seeing a woman with Finn. But as Levi splashed a small amount of coffee on his hand, cursing and bringing the burn to his mouth, I had a feeling I might have exhausted his patience. He’d recanted his story for a reason, one that I didn’t think he’d be willing to divulge. Not yet anyway.

As he sat back down, I said, “Do you remember Willow?”

He nodded, his goofy grin back in place. “Yeah, she was real nice. Man, your brother had the hots for her.” He laughed. “When she split, I thought for sure he’d go after her. I was kind of hoping he would—leave the other girls for me.”

He broke into a big swoop of laughter at his joke, his face flushed. But under his joviality, I sensed a lot of truth. Had Levi been jealous of my brother? Was that what sparked their arguing that summer and the eventual demise of their friendship? It didn’t sound like he had any additional information on Willow’s whereabouts, but I still said, “Have you heard from her?”

“Willow?” His head bopped back in surprise. “Hell, no. Not since she split that morning.”

“You saw her leave?”

“No, the last I saw her, she was…” He squinted, like he was thinking back. “We were all out on that reflection walk, but I don’t remember if she was there.” She wasn’t, but I waited for him to search his own memories. “When we got back, we all went swimming….” He was quiet, thinking, then shook his head. “Nope, don’t think she was at the river, either, so I guess the last time I saw her was before the walk.” He focused back on me. “Why you asking about Willow?”

“She was just someone I remembered. I liked her a lot.”

He said, “We all did. Man, I wonder what she’d look like now.”

His face was thoughtful, imagining an older Willow. I observed him across his desk, his aged skin and windblown hair, catching sight of my own reflection in the window behind him. For a moment I could almost see the ghost of our younger selves: my black hair in braids, his youthful, lean body and gap-toothed grin. I also thought of Willow, with her tanned skin and husky laugh. Did she have short or long hair now? Had she aged well? Was she happy?

“Yes, I wonder what she looks like too.”

I’d taken my leave after Levi picked up a call that was obviously going to take a while—he’d started to list various pricing options for rentals to the person on the other end while he rolled his eyes at me. I’d taken one of my cards out of my purse, writing on the back, Call if you want to talk about the commune, and also included my home number. He glanced at it when I passed it to him, giving me a thanks-for-stopping-by dismissive smile.

As I followed the path back up to my car, I looked back at the cabin and could see Levi through the top window. He dropped my card into the garbage.