Always Watching

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Later that evening, though all my doors were locked, I felt exposed and uneasy. I’d been talking to a lot of people about the commune, stirring things up. Aaron had many loyal followers, not to mention people who’d probably invested in the center. It was a successful business, and they wouldn’t want someone messing it up for them. I reminded myself that the police were more aware of the center now and that Aaron was smart enough to keep a low profile. Still, I checked all the doors and windows again, shaking my head at my paranoia. I was trying to distract myself with gardening shows on TV when the phone rang, startling me and causing me to spill my tea. Nursing my scalded finger, I picked up the phone on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

A harsh voice, muffled and distorted, said, “Stop now, or you’ll be sorry. You don’t know who you’re fucking with.” He hung up.

Shaken, I stared at the phone in my hand, “private number” showing on the display. Was it someone from the center? I couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a man. The voice sounded like it was being altered by a computer, which only made it sound more terrifying. I pressed *57, hoping they could trace the number.

I sat on the couch and tried to think things through. It seemed my earlier fears might be more accurate than I’d anticipated. Somewhere along the way, I’d angered someone. I considered what I should do next. The threat had been upsetting, but if it had been from someone at the center, I still didn’t think Aaron was going to hurt me, not for a sexual-abuse case which he knew would probably be dropped. If something happened to me, he’d be the first suspect, and he wasn’t a stupid man. However, it was possible he was trying to scare me off before there was any negative publicity for the center.

The phone rang a second time, spiking my pulse. I waited a moment, gathered myself, and then looked at the call display. This time it showed a number that I vaguely remembered, but I still answered with a cautious “Hello?”

“Hi, Nadine. It’s Tammy.”

“Tammy! How are you?” I sat back on the couch, relieved.

“Not good.”

She sounded stressed, anxious. Concerned about her, I sat back up and quickly said, “Is everything okay?”

Her voice now thick and nasally, like she was crying, she said, “My husband doesn’t want me to talk to the police.”

I leaned back in my chair. Disappointed but not surprised, I said, “And what do you want to do? Do you still want to speak with them?”

“I don’t know. I see his point. He’s just scared for me and Dillon. People think the center is so great, and Aaron is this important guy with tons of money. He just doesn’t want me to be dragged through the mud, with all the newspapers and stuff, everyone talking about it. He doesn’t think people will believe me.”

The way she said it, the sad tone told me that she was also disappointed, in her husband or the truth of the matter, I wasn’t sure. But he was right—she would have an uphill battle. Many people wouldn’t believe her, and if it did go to trial, it would be an emotionally exhausting process that would put a lot of stress on her life and marriage. I knew this all too well.

Now that the search hadn’t turned up anything at the site, and Tammy wasn’t willing to talk, the chances of ever building a case against Aaron were dwindling rapidly, but it was also important that Tammy feel good about her decision. I said, “Tammy, I know how hard this must be for you. Going against the wishes of people close to us is extremely difficult. But sometimes we have to do what feels right to us, even if it means upsetting others in our life. I respect whatever decision you make, I just hope you do what’s best for you.”

She lowered her voice. “I have to go.” Muffled sounds in the background, like an argument: a raised man’s voice and Tammy’s, pleading.

I said, “Tammy? Are you okay?”

A man’s voice answered. “Stay away from my wife.”

He hung up.

I sat in my dark living room, my heart hammering in my chest. I was worried about Tammy, but I didn’t hear anything that I could call the police about, and if I phoned back, it could just cause more problems for her. I hoped that she was okay. When my system had settled down, I decided what to do next. There was one more person I could try to reach. I took a moment to calm myself, then phoned Daniel. It had been a few days, and he hadn’t called with any news of Lisa, so I wasn’t sure if he’d moved back to the center yet, or if he’d even still have his cell. He answered on the second ring.

“Daniel, it’s Nadine. I was just following up on our last conversation.”

“Sorry, the job is taking longer than I’d thought. I promise, as soon as I get to the center, I’ll look for Lisa and let you know.”

I dropped my head onto the back of my couch as tears pricked my eyes. “Thanks.” I took a breath. “No one else I’ve talked to has been able to help.”

His voice was curious. “Who have you been talking to?”

“There was another victim, with a family member at the center. But she isn’t ready to speak to the police, and she can’t contact her family on the inside.”

“She probably just knows her lies will be found out. If you’d ever been to the center, you wouldn’t believe any of these accusations.” His voice was confident, proud. “Aaron’s a brilliant teacher. You just don’t know them.”

“I do know them, Daniel.”

I caught myself before I revealed more, hoping that Daniel might not have picked up on my slip, but he was quiet. Then, speaking slowly, as though he was still putting it all together, he said, “Wait…. Were you a member? Is that why…?”

Now it was my turn to pause, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him anything more. How much did I want him to know? I scolded myself. How can I expect others to share their stories when I’m still scared to talk about my own?

“I lived at the commune in Shawnigan when I was a child, with my mother and brother.”

“Really?” He sounded stunned, and confused. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“It wasn’t appropriate given the situation.” It still wasn’t. I was opening myself up to a lawsuit if Daniel ever did decide to sue the hospital.

Daniel said, “If you know them, then you know that the center isn’t doing anything wrong. They’re good people.”

I had already stepped out of my comfort zone, I might as well go all the way. “Daniel, I was one of Aaron’s victims. I made the report.”

Dead silence. Then, his voice angry and cold, he said, “Did you tell Heather these lies? Is that why she was so upset? What did you say to her?”

I saw the dangerous turn his thoughts were taking. He was one step from blaming me for her suicide. “I never told her any of this. She didn’t know.” I held my breath, hoping I hadn’t just lost Daniel. He was my only chance.

Daniel said, “Don’t call me again.”