* * *
For the rest of the day I focused on my patients. When I got home, I checked my messages, hoping that Kevin had called, but my voice mail was empty. Before driving out to the commune, I contemplated my decision again, wanting to be sure. I thought about the recent threatening phone calls and considered whether it was dangerous for me to go alone. With all the potential witnesses at the center, I didn’t think Aaron would risk hurting me. Worst case scenario, he might refuse to see me. I decided to take the chance.
Though I was anxious to go there right away, I took a few moments to mentally prepare myself. My insides were vibrating at the thought of facing Aaron again. I forced myself to eat something light, dressed warmly in jeans and a turtleneck, and made sure my iPhone was charged. I also called Connie and left a message telling her where I was going. It was starting to rain, so I drove carefully on the winding coastal road out to Jordan River while I went over my game plan. I had no idea if the main office would be open, but I was hoping they’d at least let me talk to Lisa. I’d threaten to call the police if I had to, though I wasn’t sure if that would hold any water. When I neared Jordan River, I slowed down. A truck came up fast behind me and passed on a narrow corner, sending my heart into my throat. Several more miles down the road, I spotted a few wooden buildings in a field on my left. Then I saw the large sign hanging over the gate.
THE RIVER OF LIFE SPIRITUAL CENTER.
I pulled in the driveway and parked in front of the main building, which looked like a luxury resort, with cedar siding, manicured hedges lining the driveway, and stone paths winding through gardens. The building was U-shaped, curved to take advantage of the view toward the ocean. The front entrance was stunning, with flagstone steps and large cedar posts framing the wood door, a couple of wrought-iron benches and potted plants on either side of the entranceway. There were also pretty outdoor lights lining the walkway, but no one was on the grounds. I noticed a small sign pointing to the office around the side and assumed it was in the smaller building to the right. I got out of my car.
A few pickup trucks were parked in the center of the commune, with dirty, mud-splattered farm vehicles, and a tractor pulling an empty trailer. Behind the buildings, there looked to be a barn, but I could only make out its roof, and in the wind, the wet scent of manure, hay, and animals. Near one of the fields, an old plow had been abandoned, moss growing over it, and in a puddle I spotted a child’s wooden toy train, its wheels broken. I remembered reading in the brochure that they had a school and an early-childhood educational department.
As I followed the signs to the office, I slowed my pace, my feet crunching on the gravel, wondering which building housed Aaron. I glanced back, feeling myself being watched, and noticed a child’s face peeking out from above a windowsill. A little boy, with a pale face and big eyes, his blond hair all in curls. He gave me a cheeky grin, then disappeared, the curtain dropping back in place. I wondered how many more children lived at the commune.
I found the office. There was a doorbell, with a sign saying Please ring after hours. I pressed the buzzer, which emitted a pleasant peal of chimes. I caught sight of a camera up in the corner, the red light blinking, and remembered Heather’s fear in the hospital. He sees everything. After a few minutes, the door opened. My body tensed, waiting for Aaron to appear, but it was a young woman, long-haired and clean-faced, in jeans and a white sweater.
She smiled. “Can I help you?”
I smiled back. “I hope so. My daughter is missing, and I’d like to know if she’s staying here. I’m very worried about her.”
Her expression kind, she said, “I’m sorry, but we can’t give out information on our guests.”
I said, “I’d like to speak with Aaron then, please.”
She studied me. “He doesn’t see people without appointments.”
“I think he’ll see me. I knew him when I was a child. If you could let him know that Nadine Jaeger is here, I’d appreciate it very much.”
She nodded, then said, “I’ll ask. Would you like to come in and wait?”
“Please.”
She led me inside. The office building was cozy and inviting, with tiled floors in earth tones, more wood beams, and a counter made from a long slab of cedar, stained a natural shade. Behind the counter, I could see some phones, a fax machine, a computer, and other business equipment. There was a door behind the counter that obviously led to some back offices. The front office opened up on the right to another smaller room, where there were books and crystals and CDs, and some basic sundries, like a gift shop at a resort. The woman motioned to some chairs and said, “I’ll see if Aaron will meet with you.” She disappeared into the back. I sat down on one of the chairs, noticing a small table with a scattering of magazines, mostly on health and meditation, living an organic life.
Finally, nearly fifteen minutes later, the door opened. I held my breath expecting to see Aaron, but it was the woman again. She walked toward me with a smile. “If you’d like to follow me, Aaron will speak with you.” I assumed that Aaron’s offices would also be in this building, but she turned and exited out the front door, saying, “This way, please.”
We walked back to the main building and entered through a side entrance. So she must’ve phoned Aaron from the other office. I followed the young woman down a hall, my eyes taking in everything. So far, the commune seemed simple on the inside, almost rustic, in keeping with the West Coast–resort feeling. The floors were earth-toned tiles, the walls a flat white, the odd tapestry hung here and there. Broad cedar beams were fitted into the ceilings. The air was perfumed but not overly, just a mixture of the wood and something natural, like an essential oil. It reminded me of a spa I’d been to in the past. Doors opened off the hallway, but they were mostly closed. One that was gapped revealed a simple room: wooden single bed in the corner, one chest, a chair, the bedding all in white.
A few more doors down, we passed a room that looked like it was for ceremonies; mats on the floor radiated out from a dais. Large windows behind showed the wind lashing a tree in a courtyard. I could well imagine Aaron standing there, promising to end your suffering forever if you just followed his teachings. Then I envisioned his bringing up members to confess their sins, saw my daughter sharing her darkest secrets, baring her soul for this man to tear apart.
We walked by another room, and I caught a quick glimpse of chairs clustered around small tables, children’s drawings lining the wall, and a blackboard. The schoolroom. When we came to the end of the hallway, the woman turned right and stopped in front of a wooden door. She knocked three times. A man’s voice, low and calm, said, “Come in.” It was Aaron.
The woman entered right away, but I faltered at the idea of seeing Aaron again. Then I felt a rush of anger, at how small and vulnerable this man made me feel—how he’d violated me.
Aaron was sitting behind a large cedar desk, rows of bookshelves on either side of him, and in the center a window, which I imagined had an ocean view. Massive cedar beams crossed the ceiling, and a cozy fireplace blazed in the corner.
To the left was another wooden door, and I wondered if that led to his private chamber. I imagined young girls in there with him and felt ill at the thought. Finally, I focused on Aaron, the man my memories had been avoiding for decades. He was studying me, his hands clasped in a thoughtful pose, a friendly smile on his face, like he was welcoming an old acquaintance. He was dressed in a navy blue sweater and wore a large wristwatch that looked expensive. His face was lined, but he looked healthy, with a tan. The years had been good to him.
The young woman said, “I’ll leave you alone,” and closed the door softly.
Aaron stood up and came out from around the desk. Just the image of him looming over me sent me back to being a child again. I forced myself to stand straight, reminded myself that I was no longer powerless, though my legs were vibrating with adrenaline.
“Nadine, so nice that you came to see me.”
My stomach turned inside itse
lf at his words and the tone of familiarity.
“I didn’t come to see you. I came to ask about my daughter.”
He nodded, his eyes boring into mine. I forced myself to maintain eye contact, trying not to remember the things he made me do to him. His skin cold and wet from the river.
“Yes, Lisa. She’s doing some excellent work, finding her spiritual path again. She was very angry inside.…” He shook his head.
A jolt of panicked rage shot through me. So she was at the center—and he knew exactly who my daughter was, which increased my belief that he had targeted her. I wanted to knock the smug look off his face, the serene smile. But my daughter was here, and if I upset him, he wouldn’t tell me anything else.
“I’d like to talk to her, please.”
“I’m sorry, but that wouldn’t be good for her. She’s focused on healing right now.”
Another wave of anger. “How about we let her make that decision?”
“Lisa has turned her spiritual guidance over to me.”
“I’m her mother.”
“But are you the right mother for her?” The hurt nearly brought me to my knees. He saw me flinch, saw my shame. “I’m sure you’ve asked yourself the same thing. How did she end up on the wrong path? Living with those people? She lost her spirit.” He shook his head. “Such a beautiful girl, so much soul, but so much pain inside.” He tapped his heart. “She needs to release it.”
A sick memory flowed over me. His hands searching under my shirt as he breathed into my ear, You need to release your fear, free your body.
I stepped forward. “If you’ve touched her, I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing.” He also stepped forward. “Lisa is ready for spiritual awareness—she’s willing to do whatever it takes. Are you?”
“My spirit doesn’t need to be saved—yours does. I remember what you did to me as a child.”
“You went to the police.”
No denial, but no acknowledgment either.
“And I’m going to keep going to them.”
He gestured to the room. “But nothing’s happened. I’m still here.” He inhaled and reached above his head with both hands, then let out his breath in a long exhalation as he lowered them back down and clasped them in front of his heart, before dropping them to his sides. He looked at me, his face peaceful. “The Light’s always watching. And he knows I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“It’s wrong to touch underage girls.”
“If what you’re saying is true, the police would’ve arrested me.”
My impotence enraged me. He was clearly smart enough to consider that I might be wired and was gauging his answers accordingly.
He added, “You became a doctor. It must’ve been difficult after your husband died.”
How did he know so much about me? Did Lisa tell him? The idea of them talking about me, the things he might’ve said, terrified me, but I held my tongue.
“Lisa told me you don’t believe in life after death, or that our loved ones return to visit. Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
I wasn’t playing this game with him. “I’d like to talk to my daughter.”
He smiled, then picked up the phone and spoke softly into it. “Please bring Lisa Lavoie to me. Thank you.”
He put the phone down and said, “Why don’t you stand by the fire, you look cold.”
Another memory crashed into me. We were at the campsite with everyone, after swimming in the river, and he’d wrapped his towel around me, pulled me down to sit on his lap. My mother had looked away. Had she known? The possibility stunned me.
When I didn’t move, Aaron said, “You never trusted me, though I don’t understand why. I’ve always cared about you and thought we had a special connection.” He held my gaze, and I felt the sick wrongness, the feeling I’d always had as a child, which was made even worse by knowing that in his warped mind he actually meant it. He said, “Everything I did was to help you and your mother.”
“Help me? You’re a sick pedophile. And I’m going to make sure the whole world knows you’re a fraud. This center will be out of business soon.”
He said nothing, just cocked his head, assessing me. Finally, his voice calm, he said, “My members are loyal and grateful for my help. Your threats have no meaning.”
The door opened, and Aaron turned.
“Lisa, welcome.”
She was here already? Had they been waiting nearby? I spun around. An older man was walking in with Lisa. Her hair was brushed clean, falling down her back in thick waves. She was wearing black leggings and a long beige sweater.
I came toward her. “Lisa!”
The man stepped forward and blocked me.
“Excuse me, please,” I said. Then I met his gaze and realized it was Joseph. Unlike his brother, the years had not been kind. He was gaunt and pale, dark shadows circled under red-rimmed eyes, and his hair was unkempt. He had the look of someone seriously ill.
Lisa had already passed by to stand at Aaron’s side near his desk. Aaron reached out and put his arm around her shoulder, his hand resting on the back of her neck, thumb pressing against her jugular. Panic surged through my blood.
Ignoring Joseph for now, I said, “Lisa, are you okay?”
She didn’t even glance at me. Instead she looked at Aaron for permission to speak, her body language almost deferential and her expression admiring.
Aaron said, “Go ahead, you can tell her what you told me this morning.”
Lisa now faced me, her eyes angry but her words calm. “It’s interesting, all the stuff I’m learning about meditating and spiritual awareness. I feel calmer now, like this is where I’m supposed to be, so I can get better.”
I studied her face, searching for signs of fatigue or stress, but she actually looked rested and healthy. I was relieved and also torn. I hated to hear that Aaron was having any positive effect on her, but I had to admit this was the best I’d seen her in years.
“Lisa, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. I like it here. These are my friends now.” She smiled at Joseph standing nearby, who returned it, but there was something in his face I didn’t like, a sweaty, feverish energy that made me wonder if he was in a manic phase. I remembered him kneeling behind Mary, the smile on his face as she sobbed.
I fought back a rush of fear. “They seem like your friends, but if you don’t do everything they want you to do, they’ll turn against you.”
A flash of anger in Lisa’s eyes. She was still there, she hadn’t lost her spirit. Unfortunately, her anger was aimed at me. “You’re just mad because I’m not doing what you think I should be doing. I’m happy here. But you’re still trying to control me. You think your way is so much better? You think your house is so safe?”
“My house?” What was she talking about?
She stopped short, looked at Aaron. He nodded. “Like we discussed, to let go of your negative thought processes, you have to share every part of your life.”
She looked back at me, tears glistening in her eyes. “It was Garret, Mom.”
“What was Garret?”
“That’s who molested me.”
I sucked in my breath. No, not Garret. My mind raced, trying to take in her words, but all I could do was stare at her, my heart thundering with shock.
Lisa continued. “It started when I was thirteen. You were always at the hospital.” She didn’t say the last part with bitterness or anger. It was defeat. A child who’d stopped calling out long ago for her mother to help her. She said, “A couple of days ago, he found me down at the wharf, bought me a coffee, said he just wanted to apologize. That’s why I overdosed—he drugged me. Then it didn’t matter anymore. You already thought I was using again.” An angry shrug.
Now I was also crying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’d make me talk about it, but I just wanted to forget it.”
“You can’t ignore something like this, Lisa. You have to
deal with it.”
She threw her hands up. “Stop it, just stop it. You’re always pushing me to talk about everything. I’m not like you. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Aaron’s hand pressed against her neck again. She turned to look at him.
He said, “It’s time to tell your mother what you shared in confession.”
“I … I don’t. I’m not ready.” It was the first time I saw her falter.
“I thought you wanted to end your suffering and begin a new life?” He cocked his head, gave her a disappointed look that I was all too familiar with.
“I do. I just—”
She started sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. I’d never seen her cry like that. I stepped forward, wanting to shield her from all of this, to hold her in my arms. But she took a step back, retreating from me. I stopped.
Aaron said, “If you want to let go of your anger toward your mother and move toward inner peace, you have to break free from your past.”
Lisa took a couple of deep, shuddering breaths, trying to rein herself in, then with tears still streaming down her face, she turned to me. “It was me. I was the one who attacked you in Nanaimo.”
Her words hit me like a blow, and I almost stumbled backward.
Lisa, it had been Lisa.
I found my voice. “Why? I don’t understand—”
“I was there with some friends, and I wanted to score some drugs.” She looked at Aaron. He nodded for her to continue. She turned back to me. “I was going to ask to borrow some money, but when I saw you there, I knew you’d say no.…” She started crying again, covering her eyes, too ashamed to even look at me. I was also crying, trying to make sense of everything, angry and hurt.
My daughter had left me lying in a parking lot. She had left me to die.
I said, “Do you really hate me that much?”
Her face was raw emotion. “No, I just…” She looked back at Aaron, wanting him to answer for her.