Always Watching

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.

 
    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