Always Watching

down the window to thank him again, he leaned over and said, “Drive safe. And hang in there. Let me make some calls and see what I find out.”
    “Thanks. I really appreciate your help tracking down the sisters.”
    “I’ll do my best.”
    *   *   *
    I was glad that Steve had validated some of my concerns, but I was upset to learn of the other young girls who might have been abused. How many more could there be? I remembered a recent case of sexual abuse that had gained a lot of media attention because the abuser had been a powerful official at a university. Once one victim had finally come forward, another dozen had followed suit. I thought about all the girls who’d been at the commune the same time as I had been. I tried to think of their names but couldn’t recall many. Some were older, around sixteen or seventeen, most of them runaways. There were also younger ones there with their families, some maybe around eleven or twelve, and some even younger still.
    Then another snapshot image came back. A thin girl, with long legs and limbs. Her parents had called her Dandelion because of her fair hair and skinny body. We’d called her Danny for short, and she was only eleven, but bold and talkative. I vaguely remembered arguing with her one day and struggled to focus on the memory. It seemed like it might’ve been later in the summer—and I got the feeling I was sad, so it might’ve been after Willow left. I concentrated harder on the memory. It was something about Aaron; he’d asked Danny to help him pick berries, and I hadn’t wanted her to go. Was I scared for her? I had another brief image, a flash of her calling me jealous or stupid, or something like that, then running off to join him. More hazy images followed: Danny sitting by Aaron at the table, her face smug. I remembered being confused and upset about something, but there was also a feeling of relief.
    Now, looking back, I felt sick, wondering what she had endured to earn that privilege. Was that why the memories of the abuse stopped? Aaron had left me alone because he found a new target? It was possible, but I still had a feeling that I was missing a piece of the puzzle, something that would explain my claustrophobia. Something else that had happened that summer.

 
    CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
    Five minutes later, I found Mary’s place. The railings around her property were old and peeling, bleached by the sun to a faded gray. A rusted metal saw blade was bolted to the top of her front gate, the bottom lined by tire rims. The gate was open, and I pulled in her driveway slowly as two dogs, one a black Lab, the other a sheepdog, came running from behind the house, barking. The underside of the sheepdog’s fur was wet and sandy. As I parked my car, I noticed the dense forest surrounding the house, and in the distance the familiar hum of the river. I imagined the dog following the trail of a deer, or river otter, barking at crayfish.
    As I climbed out of my car, a woman with snow-white hair, long and braided to hang over the front of her shoulder, came out and stood on the porch of the home. Smoke billowing from the chimney scented the air. She was wearing a man’s denim jacket, a few sizes too large, with a fur collar pulled tight around her throat. Her skin was pale but looked weathered and tough, her face lined. Her hands were in her pockets as she watched me walk toward her. The dogs circled and growled, causing me to pause a few times, but she never called them off. I pushed my way through them, and they fell back, the sheepdog leaving a streak of sand and fur on my legs. As I came closer, I studied the woman’s face, trying to place her. She had to be in her early sixties. I couldn’t recall her, but she’d been pretty, and was still very attractive. Her features strong, her cheekbones high, and her eyes a bright and sparkling green.
    Finally, she spoke. “Do I know you?”
    It wasn’t a casual question. It was a demand. Did she recognize me?
    “I’m not sure. That’s what I’m here to find out.” I smiled pleasantly. She didn’t return the gesture. “I lived out at the commune for a while.…”
    Her body stiffened. The hand that had been reaching for one of the dogs was stuffed back into her pocket, leaving me wondering if it was a nervous reaction. When she caught my gaze, she turned away and abruptly said, “I have to collect the eggs,” then walked toward a little coop at the back of the house.
    She hadn’t told me to go