Authors: Rebecca York
“Ten or twelve. I can squeeze in fifteen if they’re willing to share a room.”
They exited through the kitchen door into the backyard and across to a detached double garage. Cardboard cartons were neatly stacked on shelves along both walls. Several bikes leaned against a sidewall.
Mrs. Borden walked along with them, reading the labels.
“Here we go,” she said, taking down a couple of boxes and setting them on a table at the back. “I still have work to do fixing dinner. Please put everything back neatly. Magdalina might come back for her things,” she added, although her voice lacked conviction.
oOo
Ben watched the innkeeper leave the garage. When they were alone again, he and Sage each began looking through the contents of a container.
Sage glanced at Ben as he sorted through blouses and skirts.
“Are you getting any impressions from touching her stuff?” she asked.
“You mean psychic impressions?”
“Uh huh.”
He shook his head. “I’m not a medium. I don’t find out anything from handling people’s possessions—except maybe that they should have washed their clothes.”
She answered with a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I was just hoping.” A few moments later, she pulled out a carved wooden box and opened it. Inside were several rings and a gold necklace. “Look at this. I’m sure she wouldn’t have left this stuff here.” She showed the jewelry to Ben.
“Not unless she cleared out in a hurry.”
He pulled out a cardboard folder that contained a number of pictures of a dark-haired girl, most of them with several other people. As he thumbed through the contents, he said, “Here she is with what appears to be her family.”
Sage felt her stomach knot as she looked at the photo of the girl standing with an older man and woman and two younger boys. “It looks like she was their oldest child.”
Ben nodded.
“I guess they never found out what happened to her. That’s so sad. She was far away from home, and she just vanished.”
Ben wanted to say they wouldn’t let that happen with Laurel, but he didn’t know if he’d be speaking the truth.
Going back to the box, he found a brightly colored dress with the tags still attached. When he found two more, he held them up. “It looks like she bought some new things after she arrived.”
“She never got to wear them. What happened to her?”
“That’s the question.”
As they were putting Magdalina’s possessions back into the boxes, the side door of the garage opened, and Sonja looked over her shoulder before stepping in.
She crossed to them.
“I said outside that Magdalina showed me the ropes. Really, we were kind of friends.”
“Did she date anyone?” Sage asked.
“She dated some guys from town. Nothing serious. She did tell me once that she’d had a bad experience, but she wouldn’t say any more.” Sonja lowered her voice. “We don’t talk about it in public, but we’re all afraid, you know. We’re all like your sister. She was—what do you say—a good kid.”
“And my mom really did come to the restaurant and yell at her in front of everyone?”
“Yes. When your sister disappeared, we all talked about it. We wondered if it had something to do with that fight.”
“Did you think of anything that might help me find her?”
“I’m sorry. We don’t know anything more about it. Not really.” She looked over her shoulder again. “None of us wants to get into trouble and get sent home.”
“I understand. Thank you for coming out here,” Sage said again.
When Sonja left, Sage looked at Ben. “Can we ask in town about guys Magdalina might have dated?”
“That’s pretty much old news.”
“What about guys my sister dated?”
“That could be more productive. But where would we start? The bar scene?”
“I’d say with my mom, if she hadn’t skipped town.” She stopped short, then started again. “With everything else that’s happened, I forgot to tell you. I talked to one of Laurel’s professors, and at least in his class, she wasn’t having any problems in school.”
They put the remaining items back in the boxes and went back to thank Mrs. Borden.
“Did you find anything helpful?” she asked.
“Only that she left things she wouldn’t have abandoned,” Ben answered.
“That’s what I thought,” the innkeeper said.
After the brief conversation, they exited the house for Ben’s car. He hesitated as he sat behind the wheel.
“You thought of something else?” Sage asked.
“I’m not sure.” He started the engine and headed back the way they’d come, watching as a small Japanese car passed them. He didn’t recognize the driver.
“I told you I wasn’t a medium and I didn’t get impressions from people’s possessions, but I’m having the strong feeling that we shouldn’t head right back to town.”
“Where should we go?”
He turned onto a side road that paralleled the river. “I don’t know. I just can’t shake the feeling that we should drive down this way.”
Ben kept driving slowly, checking out the scenery on the left and right. On the river side of the road, he spotted a long field filled with weeds and small, scraggly trees. In the center was a large, sagging wooden building.
“What do you think that is?” he asked.
“It’s on the river,” Sage answered. “Maybe it’s an old warehouse—or a crab shucking plant. They used to do that by hand around here.”
Another car passed him, capturing his attention for a moment. Not the Japanese car he’d seen earlier. And not a blue pickup or a black sedan. It sped past as though the driver were annoyed that Ben had slowed down to look at the old building.
The structure was surrounded by a high chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Parts of the weathered wooden siding were missing and also the roof, letting in shafts of sunlight that rippled as he passed. When a flash of bright color caught the edge of Ben’s vision, he braked.
“What is it?” Sage asked.
“I saw something in there.”
She craned her neck toward the structure as he backed up, then drove slowly past, pointing toward one of the gaps in the wall. Inside was a bright splash of color that looked a lot like the dresses he’d held up in the garage.
As Sage followed where he was pointing, she sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you think . . .?” She let her voice trail off. “I mean, how could it have anything to do with Magdalina?”
“I don’t know, but I want to have a look.”
She tipped her head as she looked at him. “What led you here?”
He shrugged. “I can’t explain it.” Turning to her, he said, “Wait for me.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He eyed the old building. “This place looks like it’s ready to fall down. Going in there is a risk. Not to mention we’d be trespassing,” he added as he pointed to signs fixed to the fence at intervals.
“If you’re going in there, I will too.”
They got out of the car, and he locked the doors before glancing at the rural mailbox along the road. Faded numbers said 717.
“What road is this?” he asked Sage.
“South Town Road.”
“Okay. 717 South Town Road.”
“Does that matter?”
“It might.”
He started across the field toward the fence. The open space was not only filled with weeds but also trash and broken glass. When Sage caught her foot in a plastic bag and almost tripped, he took her arm to steady her and kept his hold on her as they continued toward the structure.
They reached the fence, which was in better shape than the building beyond.
She glanced up at the evil-looking razor wire. “This place is falling down. Why put up a fence?”
“Maybe so nobody gets hurt in there.” He followed her gaze. “I don’t think we’re going to be climbing over.”
“Then what?”
“Maybe there’s a hole we can get through. Or maybe we can use the gate. Depending on how it’s locked, we might be able to break in.”
They turned right and started walking along the perimeter, keeping an eye out for an entry point, but found nothing until they’d made their way around the back to a twenty-foot-wide strip of land that bordered the river. An old wooden dock jutted out from the bank. Ben looked around and spotted cigarette butts and a crumpled pack on the ground.
“Someone’s been here.”
“Probably kids.”
He looked down the river. “It leads to the bay?”
“Yes.”
He eyed the dock, then stepped onto the boards, testing them. “This pier has been rebuilt in the past few years. I wonder who’s using this place.”
“For what?”
He shrugged. “I was just thinking it might not be as abandoned as it looks.”
But the dock wasn’t their immediate concern. “We need to get into the building.” As Ben scanned the nearby section of fence, he saw a large hole in the wire mesh.
He glanced at Sage. “I’d feel better if you stayed out here.”
“I wouldn’t.”
He could have argued, but he knew he’d only be wasting time. The shadows were lengthening, and he wanted to get in there and get out before dark.
Ducking, he wriggled through the opening, then held up the jagged edge for Sage to follow.
On this side of the building, large doors hung on broken hinges.
“I’m going in first. You wait until I tell you it’s safe.”
She answered with a grudging “Okay.”
He stepped through the doors, pausing for his eyes to adjust to the dim atmosphere, punctuated by shafts of daylight knifing through the holes in the ceiling. Inside the temperature felt fifteen degrees warmer.
“Okay?” Sage called.
He scuffed at the floor with his foot and found a more or less solid slab of concrete.
Without waiting for him to give the go-ahead, Sage followed him inside.
A flapping noise made them both go stock-still. Looking up, Ben saw a dozen large white birds taking flight through the holes in the ceiling. The floor was littered with bird droppings as well as boards, pieces of metal and other building materials. He could see that there had once been two more stories above the ground floor. But the structure above them was filled with gaping holes. He looked toward the area where he thought he’d seen the bright colors from the outside and spotted what appeared to be a pile of fabric. But his view was partially blocked.
“I need to go up and have a look. Of course, it may turn out to be nothing.”
“But you don’t think so,” Sage murmured.
He made a sound of agreement.
When he looked at Sage, he could see beads of sweat forming on her brow from the heat.
“We should have brought some water,” he muttered.
“We won’t be long. We just need to see what that is.” She pointed toward metal stairs. “We can get up that way.”
“If they don’t collapse under us.”
He walked to the steps, testing the first riser. It was partly rusted through, and he moved to one side, trying to put his weight on what seemed like the strongest part. Sage followed him up. Neither one of them held on to the railing which would have meant risking scraping the palms of their hands.
When he reached the landing, he moved aside and grasped her arm. He stopped himself and her from stepping into a twenty-foot drop to the level below.
Switching his focus, he stared toward the bright-colored fabric. At both ends he could see something white, totally different from the swath of patterned color, and he was pretty sure he knew what that was. But he’d have to get closer to verify. Again he wanted to order Sage to stay on the stair landing, but he knew she wouldn’t comply.
Above the object on this level, canvas had been draped over horizontal poles to make a kind of covering.
“That looks like a tent without sides,” Sage whispered.
“Maybe to keep off the bird droppings.”
“Because whatever is in there is important?”
“Yes.”
He started across the ruined floor, trying to avoid places where it looked like the boards were rotten. But halfway to his goal, his foot went through a rotten section of flooring, and he almost tumbled through. Sage caught his arm, steadying him, and they both stood stock-still for several seconds until the surface under their feet stopped vibrating.
Crossing this space was beyond dangerous, and if he hadn’t felt compelled to get close to what was under the tent, he would have turned back.
Instead he moved doggedly forward, testing each section of the floor before putting his full weight down.
Sage followed, placing her feet where he had walked.
When they finally reached the tent, his suspicious were confirmed. He’d been preparing himself for what he was going to see, but behind him Sage gasped.
“A skeleton,” she whispered as she eyed the form laid out on a deflated air mattress.