Always Watching

was now, and if Aaron had done anything else to her.
    “No.” He leaned back against the workbench, but he didn’t look relaxed, his limbs tense. “He was always screwing someone, but no kids that I know of.” His words were tight, clipped.
    “Did you ever see him, you know, acting strange with me?”
    Robbie looked down at the beer in his hand, rolled it around. “You spent a lot of time with him, but I thought you liked him.…”
    My face flushed hot, knowing if anyone who lived at the commune back then testified that was probably what they would think too—that I’d liked him.
    “I did when we first met him, but then he did things that he shouldn’t have. Do you know if anyone from the commune still lives in Shawnigan?”
    He shook his head, took a gulp of beer. “Don’t think so. Most of them are from the city—they run away up here for the weekend.”
    That reminded me of another runaway. “I also told the police about Willow. They’re going to check if she was ever reported missing.”
    “Why would they think she was missing?” He looked surprised.
    “I don’t know that they do. I just think it’s odd how she left so suddenly, so they said they’d see if they could find her.” I didn’t know how much of my suspicions I should share, still wondering if I was jumping to conclusions, and crazy ones at that, so I just said, “I’d like to talk to her, see what she remembers.”
    Now there was an edge of concern to his voice. “I don’t think you should go talking to a bunch of people about Aaron. They were into some weird shit, and they’re probably still into weird shit. If I was you, I’d just stay out if it.” Brew whined. Robbie ruffled his head, trying to soothe. But his face was stressed.
    Sounding calmer than I felt, I said, “The reason predators like him get away with things like this is because most people are too scared to say anything, they’re afraid of the public humiliation and being doubted. I feel the same way, but I also believe he’s destructive—and there are probably more victims.”
    “If they’re this big organization now like you say, people aren’t going to like you going around making accusations.”
    I was starting to get angry. He was my brother. I wanted his support, not warnings. “I appreciate your concern, but I understand the possible repercussions, and I’ve made my choice. I just wanted to know if you remembered anything.”
    “No, and I’m not talking to the cops about anything—and don’t tell them fuck-all about me.”
    That threw me. I’d never even suggested it as a possibility.
    “I’m late,” he said. “I’ve gotta get to a job site.” At the words, Brew’s ears twitched, and he loped to my brother’s black Silverado, JAEGER EXCAVATING painted on the side in red. Brew circled at the passenger door, barking.
    Robbie walked toward his truck. At the door, he turned and looked at me, his face serious. “Those guys are screwed up—you should just stay away from them. It’s shitty what he did, but you gotta move on with your life.”
    Move on? I sucked in my breath, his words hitting hard and deep.
    “I could say the same of you. What’s keeping you here? Mom and Dad have been gone for years.” I don’t know where my question came from. No, that’s not true. It came from hurt, but it hurt more when I saw the angry flush cross my brother’s face, and the look in his eyes. He opened the passenger door, and Brew leaped in. Then Robbie got in the driver’s side and, without looking at me, gunned the engine, spun his tires, kicking up gravel, and roared out the driveway. Brew hung his head out the side window, glaring balefully back at me, barking into the wind.

 
    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    Frustrated about our visit and regretting some things I’d said, I’d planned to head straight back down to Victoria, but I drove around the east side of the lake, back through the village, so I could fill up on gas. While I waited in the car for the attendant, I caught sight of the corner store, a cream-colored wood building, with blue trim, where my mother had first met those commune members. Dread ran over my body as I remembered how anxious I’d been that day, watching her talk to them and sensing danger in the air. The store had changed over the years. Now a small outdoor café was attached to the side, where some teenagers sat on the tables, braving the cold for a cigarette, laughing, and texting on their phones.
    I flashed to