Waking the Witch

nineteen

Kayla and I talked a bit more after that. I asked her if she had anything to share on the case--any tidbits she’d picked up in her detective work. She liked that and gave me information that offered a fascinating glimpse into Columbus and what a child can hear when no one’s paying attention to her.

I learned that the grocer, Mrs. Dean, was pla

When we got back to Kayla’s place, Michael was still talking with Paula. That made Kayla decide to play outside. I went inside and asked Michael if I could speak to Paula alone. He was cool with that. I sat her down at the kitchen table and told her that Kayla overheard Gi

That last part was tough. I’m not sure what was worse, explaining it or seeing Paula’s reaction. She was horrified ... and guilt-stricken that she hadn’t known. Kayla had gone to a therapist after her mom died, she said, and she was going to get in touch with the woman again.

I WALKED BACK to the motel after that, and on my way, I called Jesse with a rundown of my progress. I mentioned the tire blowout, but downplayed it. I told him I was going out with Michael and, no, it wasn’t to trick him into giving away leads. I was hoping that after the tips I’d given him, he’d willingly offer some of his own.

Jesse was a little nervous about bringing Michael into the investigation. Typical ex-con—wary of cops and their motivations. I assured him we weren’t teaming up. Nor, though, was I going to turn down the opportunity to share information with him.

I called Adam, too, in case I didn’t get a chance later. No, I wasn’t pla

I updated Adam on the case, then we chatted until I reached the motel, and I realized Michael would be picking me up in about ten minutes.

“I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon,” I said.

“With any luck, I’ll already be on my way there.”

“Here?”

“Um, yeah. That’s what I said, right? That I’d swing by after the conference? Help you out?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “I won’t get in the way, Sava

I laughed. “I can believe that. All right then. Just don’t rush, okay?” I paused. “That didn’t come out right. What I mean is—”

“—that you’re handling it just fine and you don’t need me breathing down your neck. I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

I’D TOLD MICHAEL to dress casual. I only had the one dress and he’d seen it. For tonight, I went with a nice blouse, then waited until Michael got out of his car, saw he was wearing chinos, and decided I could get away with jeans.

I stuck to boots with low heels, though. I used to strap on three inches and didn’t care if it made me taller than the guy. It was a test. Most failed. I’d learned to tone it down. The high heels still came out, just a little later.

When Michael handed me his keys again, I knew I could have worn the heels. A guy who was cool with me being in the driver’s seat wouldn’t have minded me being an inch taller.

“Did you get a chance to talk to Kayla?” I asked.

“I tried, but she’s decided I’m an asshole, and she’s not budging. Paula was great, though, and I’m not really comfortable interviewing a kid.” He glanced over at me. “Thanks, too, for the tips. I really appreciated that. In return I should tell you that I might know why Claire was talking to Cody. She didn’t come here to join the commune. She came here to investigate it.”

“I thought she was a student.”

“She was. But she had a friend—Tamara—who joined the commune, and left after Gi

“She disappeared?”

He nodded. “Claire was afraid whatever happened to her was co

“So she launched her own. And you knew about it?”

“No. Claire and I ...” He took a deep breath. “We’re half siblings. Her mom married my dad after she was born, which was the soonest he could get a divorce from my mom.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. It’s an old story. Dad knocks up his secretary and has to choose a family. He picked them. Mom tried to keep that from me, but I figured it out pretty fast. I didn’t want to have anything to do with his new family, and he was fine with that. He wanted a complete do-over. I saw Claire maybe five times growing up. Then, the week she started college, she called, wanting to see me. I wasn’t really looking for a baby sister, but if she wanted to make contact, that was fine.”

He eased back in his seat. “That first lunch was hellishly awkward. But ... there was something there. Enough for me to look her up when I had a seminar near her college the next month. We eventually got to the whole brother and sister thing. Calls every few weeks, e-mails, visits when we were nearby, Christmas and birthday presents.

“When Tamara joined Alastair Koppel’s group, Claire called me. Tamara and Claire had been friends forever. Grew up together, double-dated, pla

“Then Tamara joined the commune.”

Michael nodded. “Claire freaked. She was sure her friend was mixed up in a cult. She wanted me to check it out. I pulled some strings, got the file, and found the FBI had looked into Alastair’s operation after some parents complained. But they’d concluded it was nothing more than a New Age commune. After Tamara disappeared, I forwarded Claire’s concerns to the local FBI. That was all I could do. I didn’t know she was in Columbus until ... well, until she wasn’t.”

Michael went quiet for a few minutes after that. Then he reached into the backseat and grabbed a folder.

“This is for you,” he said. “Notes on Claire. I thought ...” He shrugged. “It might help. You can read them later. Or, if you want to read them now, ask me questions ...”

I pulled over and gave him the keys.

THE FILE WAS a mix of the personal and the professional, the brother vying with the investigator. For most of it, the brother prevailed.

There were photos of Claire, including some from her childhood that he must have gotten from his father. Tamara was in three of them—a small, freckled girl with earnest eyes, staring at the camera, with Claire beside her, arm thrown around her shoulders, gri