“Let me explain. We grow our own vegetables, raise chickens for eggs, we fish, and gather mollusks. Some members work in town and contribute wages. We have a set of beliefs that forces us to reject society, but we wish no harm to others. We live simply and quietly.”
He took a long breath.
“While we have a core of longtime members, there are many that come and go. Our lifestyle is not for everyone. It’s possible your young woman visited with us, perhaps during one of my absences. You have my word. I will speak to the others,” said Dom.
“Yes,” said Ryan. “So will I.”
“Of course. And please let me know if there is anything else that I can do.”
At that moment a young woman burst through the screen door, a toddler on her hip. She was laughing and tickling the child. He giggled and batted at her with pudgy fingers.
Malachy’s pale little hands skittered across my mind.
When she saw us, the woman hunched and gave a grimace.
“Oops. Sorry.” She laughed. “I didn’t know anyone was here.” The toddler thumped her head, and she scratched a finger on his stomach. He squealed and kicked his legs.
“Come in, Kathryn,” said Dom. “I think we’re finished here.”
He looked a question at Baker and Ryan. The sheriff retrieved his hat and we all rose.
The child turned toward Dom’s voice, spotted him, and began to wriggle. When Kathryn set him down, he teetered forward with outstretched arms, and Dom bent to scoop him up. His arms looked milky white around Dom’s sun-darkened neck.
Kathryn joined us.
“How old is your baby?” I asked.
“Fourteen months. Aren’t you, Carlie?” She extended a finger and Carlie grabbed for it, then held his arms out toward her. Dom returned the baby to its mother.
“Excuse us,” Kathryn said. “He needs a nappy change.”
“Before you go, may I ask you one question?” Ryan produced the photo. “Do you know either of these people?”
Kathryn studied the snapshot, holding it beyond Carlie’s reach. I watched Dom’s face. His expression never changed.
Kathryn shook her head, then handed back the photo. “No. Sorry.” She fanned the air and wrinkled her nose. “Gotta go.”
“The woman was pregnant,” Ryan offered.
“Sorry,” said Kathryn.
“He’s a beautiful baby,” I said.
“Thank you.” She smiled and disappeared into the back of the house.
Dom looked at his watch.
“We’ll be in touch,” said Baker.
“Yes. Good. And good luck.”
Back in the car, we sat and studied the property. I’d cracked the passenger-side window, and mist blew in and settled on my face. The flash of Malachy had depressed me, and the damp, gray weather mirrored my mood perfectly.
I scanned the road in both directions, then looked again at the houses. I could see people working in a garden behind the bungalow. Seed packets stuck on sticks identified the contents of each patch. Otherwise, there were no signs of life.
“What do you think?” I asked no one in particular.
“If they’ve been here eight years they’ve kept a very low profile,” said Baker. “I haven’t heard a thing about them.”
We watched Helen leave the green house and walk to one of the trailers.
“But they’re about to be discovered,” he added, reaching for the ignition.
For several miles, no one spoke. We were crossing the bridge into Beaufort when Ryan broke the silence.
“There’s got to be a link. It can’t be coincidence.”
“Coincidences do happen,” said Baker.
“Yes.”
“One thing bothers me,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“Heidi quit going to the clinic here in her sixth month. Her parents said she showed up in Texas in late August. Right?”
“Right.”
