Whispers in the Dark (8 page)

I nodded. Unless a police car happened to be already on the road out here, we wouldn’t get help for twenty or thirty minutes. I took a deep breath. “Then I guess we’d better be ready.”

We shoved a file cabinet in front of the door. Fortunately, this back room had no windows. The water Lily had put in the microwave was hot, so I made tea for the adults and cocoa for the children. I hoped that this simple task would help me stay steady and a warm drink might comfort them.

Plus, hot liquid and a heavy mug made tolerable weapons.

I seemed to be watching myself from a distance, mildly surprised that I was acting calmly and sensibly—that I was acting at all. Had I really improved so much in the last six months? Or was it because this wasn’t directly my problem? Because it was easier to help someone else than myself?

When I handed the woman a mug of tea, she was shaking so badly she splashed some in her lap. She kept her gaze down, avoiding my eyes. I cupped my hand under hers and gently lifted the mug toward her mouth. “Drink.”

I wanted to say, “It will be all right,” but I couldn’t force the lie. We might get through this night, but she had a long road ahead. Would she be strong enough to handle it?

I smiled at the boys, but they looked so wary I didn’t dare touch them. I wished I had a couple of stuffed animals to offer.

“Listen,” Lily said.

I had half-turned and was reaching toward my mug still on the counter. We froze like a tableau, the woman’s mug halfway to her parted lips, Lily’s head cocked to one side.

I could still hear shouting, but something had changed. More than one voice rose outside. After a couple of minutes, they faded. A knock came at the door, a sharp
rat-a-tat-tat
but without the earlier violence. Then a voice—”Lily! Lily, you all right?”

She put her hand to her chest. “Robert.”

“Surely it’s too soon for the police,” I said.

She frowned and shook her head. Robert kept calling.

“He’ll be worried,” Lily said. We shoved the file cabinet away from the door.

“Wait here,” I told the mother and children as Lily opened the door.

Robert was peering through the broken window. He gave a glad cry at the sight of Lily. She rushed to the front door and moments later they were embracing.

I held onto the front door, ready to slam it shut, as I looked outside. A half-dozen people milled around. I vaguely recognized a woman I’d seen in the bathroom and a couple who had been sitting at a picnic table when I passed by earlier. The gay couple stood close together, watching a man seated on the ground with his head down. Blood dripped from one fist; he must have punched through the window. A young man stood over him as if ready to pounce should he get out of line.

The gay man formerly in blue glanced up and waved. He crossed to me and asked, “Is everyone all right?”

I nodded. “Where—why—”

“We heard the commotion at the campground. We weren’t sure what was happening, but then—” He gestured at Robert. “He said women and children were in trouble and needed help.”

Well. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “We didn’t do much. Just showed up. He backed down pretty quickly when he saw all of us.”

I smiled. “Sometimes showing up is enough.”

Robert came up and patted my shoulder. I glanced back to see that Lily had gone into the other room. I wondered if I should join her, but she already had a rapport with the family. Another face might make them more anxious.

The police showed up ten or fifteen minutes later. They put the violent man in the back of the police car and started taking statements. Lily said she and Robert would look after the woman and children until everything got sorted out. “Maybe now she’ll take my hints about a shelter,” she whispered to me.

I smiled and blinked back tears. “Thank you.”

Her eyes widened. “For what? Dragging you into this trouble?”

“For being the kind of person who helps.” I hugged her. The thin woman tried to scurry by with her head down, but I reached out to stop her. When she flinched, I dropped my hand, but I had to speak. “Keep asking for help. You deserve it.” She didn’t look up, but after a moment she gave a tiny nod.

I wished I could do more for her, but at least I had done something. I had been there when needed, which not everyone could claim. And as I had learned in my own quest to embrace life again, the first step really was just showing up.

Chapter 9

An odd atmosphere had fallen over the group, half party, half funeral, with whispers and nervous laughter. People were excited to be part of the solution, even as they mourned the problem.

I still felt somewhat outside of myself, like a distant observer even though I’d been in the middle of things. I went around the side of the building, a little separate from the rest of the crowd. A chicken-wire fence outlined the small garden plot where I’d seen Danesh working earlier. Several of the metal posts holding up the fence were topped by fist-sized squash, making a funky accent and showing off the ancient vegetable.

I ran a hand over one of the squash, feeling slight bumps and ridges in the smooth skin, and then looked down into the garden. The moon had risen and cast light on the bushy plants and trailing vines. Even here, in the high desert, if you tended things properly, they grew. Such a simple thing, a garden. Simple things get you grounded when the world seems crazy.

I reached over the waist-high fence and rubbed a velvety leaf between my fingers. “This is reality too,” I whispered. I focused on the air temperature, comfortably cool, the feel of the ground beneath my feet, the murmur of voices behind me, and the distant hooting of an owl. I started to feel part of the world again.

The police car drove away. People headed back to the campground. I swayed with exhaustion, but I remembered the broken glass. I needed to clean up, turn off the lights, lock the door. And in the morning I would have to explain the broken window.

I walked through the door and stared at Danesh, who was sweeping glass into a dustpan. “When did you get here?” I asked.

“A few minutes ago. I heard the news report that police had been called out.”

“It was on the news? But it just happened!”

He gave his patented half-smile. “The DJ at the local radio station keeps his police scanner on.”

I hesitated, then closed the front door behind me and came further into the room. “You know what happened?”

He gave a single nod, frowning, and carried the broken glass to the garbage. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. We just had a few bad minutes. You know, you really need some kind of weapon in here.”

“Yeah.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Never thought about it before. We keep the good weapons in the shed.”

“Excuse me?”

His smile flashed on and disappeared. “Hoes, shovels, things like that. Those are probably the best weapons around, but they’re locked up in the little shed behind the building.”

“Oh.” I crossed to the counter and started putting away my equipment. I felt the need to fill the silence. “I guess this explains some of the stuff that’s been happening. Thefts of food and equipment—he was out of work and broke, according to Lily. Took it out on his wife, I guess.”

I remembered the lights and voices. Was he to blame for that, too? What would a man like that be doing in the canyon? Hoping to find some overlooked treasure he could sell?

And what about the two voices I thought I’d heard? Could on out-of-work abuser really be responsible for all the strange activity here?

Danesh came over to stand beside me. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” I paused. “Though not really. I’m glad I was here to help. I’m glad I could.” I suddenly found myself shaking. Why now? I pressed my hands down on the counter and tried to lock my knees so I wouldn’t fall.

Danesh put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched, but he kept the connection. I could feel the warmth through my shirt despite his light touch.

He slowly turned me toward him. He slid his arms around me.

I pressed my cheek against his shoulder. My breathing came in harsh gasps. I wrapped my arms around Danesh’s waist and he tightened his grip.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s over now.”

It should have been over, at least for me. But memories flashed through my mind, from another day, yet as strong as if they were happening now. I squeezed my eyes closed but I didn’t try to banish the visions. I let them play out—

A dark shape leaping out at me as I jogged past a cluster of bushes. The shock, the utter astonishment, that caused me to fall limp as the man dragged me into those bushes. The feel of hands groping me through my thin T-shirt and shorts and then underneath them.

The swirling panic and helplessness.

Vomit rising in my throat as screams echoed in my mind but wouldn’t come out. The humiliation of lying in a heap, sobbing, as a dog barked and my attacker ran away.

I clung to Danesh and remembered it all.

But I hadn’t been so helpless this time. I had reached out to someone else in trouble. I hadn’t let fear or panic keep me from acting. I could learn from the past and face the future. I had to, if I wanted a life worth living.

Finally my breathing slowed and my trembling stopped. I pushed back from Danesh and wiped at my eyes. “Thanks.”

“Any time.”

I grimaced and looked away from his steady gaze. “I hope there won’t be a lot of times I need that.”

“We all need it sometimes.”

I made a noncommittal sound and moved away to gather up the rest of my equipment. It was hard to believe a man like Danesh ever needed a hug. But it was nice of him to try to make me feel less awkward. Unless he was just warning me that the hug didn’t mean anything. He didn’t have to worry—I could tell the difference between passion and comfort.

I felt my cheeks heating under his gaze. I grabbed my box and turned, but he was blocking the end of the counter. I managed a smile. “I guess the excitement is over for the night, so I’ll get going.”

He took the box from me. “I’ll walk you to your tent.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the truth was I would feel better with an escort. Being independent didn’t mean I had to do everything alone. I stepped out into the parking lot and looked up at the sky as Danesh struggled to lock the damaged door. I thought about his hug, the surprising gentleness and understanding, when so many men got awkward or annoyed around tears. I was seeing a new side of him. Why was that so surprising, when I barely knew him?

Maybe my instinctive negative reaction to Danesh was only a result of discomfort left over from our first encounter. When I thought back, I couldn’t remember a single thing he’d done that was really wrong. Irritating, maybe, but not cruel or unfair. Even his bossiness was of an overprotective nature, and there were a lot of worse qualities a man could have than protectiveness.

We’d shared a close moment. I could step away and reassert the distance or take this chance to get to know someone who might prove interesting.

I looked around the parking lot, now empty except for Danesh’s truck, but somehow holding the echoes of the night’s events. I didn’t want the bad memories to take over this place and keep me from enjoying my time here. This was my place, for now, with everything it held—including Danesh.

I smiled as he joined me. “What’s with the garden, anyway?” I asked, gesturing toward it.

“It’s mainly a demonstration garden, though we do eat the produce. Squash and beans, just like the Ancient Ones. A complete protein—but I’m sure you know that.”

“Seeing as how my specialty is ancient foods,” I agreed.

“Maybe you’ll find evidence of something else they ate, and we’ll have to update our garden.”

“Maybe. That would be nice.”

He tapped one of the squash stuck on top of a fence post. “Nothing is ready to harvest yet, but we keep these old, dried squash so people can see how they differ from the modern version. If you’re here when this year’s crop ripens, I’ll cook some for you.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say as we walked down the path. We had shared a moment of closeness, but I still felt awkward. My first impressions might have been wrong, but they had let me keep my distance. It wasn’t easy to get involved in other people’s lives.

I thought of Sean, Lily and Robert West, the crying woman and her solemn children. I couldn’t get much more involved.

We reached my campsite and I opened the car trunk so he could deposit the box. “Well, thanks,” I said, not looking at Danesh.

He didn’t answer. I thought I could feel him staring at me again, but when I glanced over I saw him scanning the perimeter with narrowed eyes, like a soldier checking for the enemy. I was pretty sure the only danger was now in custody, but I watched him with a smile. It was rather nice to have someone looking out for me for a change.

He met my gaze. “You’re sure you don’t mind being alone here tonight?”

And what if I said I did? Would he offer to stay? I almost laughed. “I’m fine now. Thanks.”