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“I hope not, and I might be wrong, but it looked like his truck. I just got out of there fast,” she said, taking a bite of pizza.

I nodded, chewed my pizza and swallowed. I hoped I hadn’t given Robin some bad advice. “Probably wasn’t him. Let’s get back to the hot cop. Maybe we should go online. Tinder?”

“Uh, nah, but we could go out to a club next week,” she said. “There’s a good one two towns over. Even if nobody interesting is there, it would still be fun to go out.”

“We’re not going to be line dancing, are we?” I asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “It’s a possibility.”

We laughed and worked on our pizza.

“Hey, do you have ranch dressing?” I asked. “I like to dip my pizza in it sometimes. Feeling that craving now.”

“I think so. Look in the fridge,” she said.

I walked over to the stainless-steel refrigerator and opened the door. I spied the ranch in the door and reached out to grab it, but something else caught my eye.

A bag of organic medjool dates. A specific brand.

I picked up the bag and turned to Robin. “Where did you get these?”

She stared at the bag. “Dates? I don’t know. My parents must have gotten them. I don’t like dates.”

I placed the full bag back into the refrigerator, a coldness creeping up my spine.

He had been here.

A couple days passed, but by Tuesday I still couldn’t get that bag of dates from Robin’s refrigerator out of my mind. The exact brand, organic brand, local to California. I’d never seen that brand since moving back to Pennsylvania. And I’d looked several times. Did Robin’s parents order them online? Maybe, but that seemed too coincidental.

So, that meant someone placed the dates there, knowing I would find them. How had this person known I’d be over at Robin’s house last weekend? Was our house bugged, was someone listening to Archie and me? What did it mean? These stupid little gifts were just trying to weaken my sanity. Not threatening but placed to toy with my emotions and make me feel uncomfortable. Mission accomplished. Dream must be the one leaving me gifts. Brother Jim would not be toying with me this much; he didn’t have the patience.

I fed the chickens, dumping their feed into their bowl, and filled the automatic water dispenser. They clucked an approval and greedily gobbled up the feed. I walked back into the barn, put the bucket away, and grabbed my watering can.

I walked onto the front porch to water the bright yellow and orange mums I planted a few days before to welcome in the fall season. A quick stroll to the back patio to water the flowers back there and I was done. I left the watering can on the patio. I planned to water the plants again in the evening; they’d been gobbling up the water, and I wanted them to stay bright and lush. I went into the house, grabbed my purse, locked the doors and headed out to the garage. I glanced at my phone. Eight forty-five. In fifteen minutes, I’d be opening the store. Rachel would be in at ten.

I got into my car, and backed out of the garage, then stopped to hit the button to close the door. A text beeped on my phone. I glanced at it. Archie.

Hey, can you stop at Robin’s house?

Weird. Why did he want me to do that? I typed a reply.

I’m on my way to the store. Isn’t she at school?

No, and she’s not answering her phone. The principal is in her class now. Neither of us have had any luck reaching her.

Okay, I’ll go over.

I backed my car around and headed out the lane to Robin’s house. A few minutes later I was driving down her lane, lined with maple trees. The lights in the barn were on and the side door was open. I saw a man adjusting something on the milking machine. Two pickup trucks were parked to the side of the driveway. Probably the farm workers Robin mentioned last Saturday. Robin’s car was there, in the front of the driveway. A long sidewalk led to the red brick farmhouse.

I parked and hurried up the sidewalk to the front door. I rang the doorbell, then knocked. Nothing. I called her cell. Nothing. The curtains were pulled shut so I couldn’t see anything inside. What was going on? Could Robin be hurt?

I walked around to the back door that entered the kitchen. I could hear Daisy, Robin’s Labrador Retriever, whimpering. I peeked into the window and saw Daisy hovering around something on the floor. My heart hammered inside my chest as I turned the doorknob and it opened. Daisy barked and bounded over to me.

Robin was lying behind the kitchen table in the center of the room. Her eyes wide and frozen with fright. Her face swollen.

She wasn’t moving.

Or breathing.

THIRTY-ONE2016

The Commune

Dream

I pulled up to Grandmother’s house and parked the van in the driveway. We had a busy day at the farmers’ market today, selling out of basically everything we brought. I yawned, sitting in the van for a moment. I dropped off Sunny, River, and Aurora, one of our newest members, at Raindrop’s house. Sunny just wanted to lie by the pool and rest after the busy day. I was picking up Brother Jim. He planned to stay at Raindrop’s house that week. I was sure Jasmine, his assistant, would also join.

I got out of the van and walked through the curved archway to the heavy, dark wooden door and entered the home. I hadn’t been here for a month or two. We usually had our chanting sessions as a group at Raindrop’s house because of the ample space, or in the mountains. The living room had several new pieces of furniture, large sectional, massive recliner, a huge flatscreen TV hung on the wall. I peeked into the kitchen at the back of the house: A new, large stainless-steel refrigerator was there, along with a newly installed dishwasher. Jim Bob was busy making some upgrades in the house.

A young woman walked into the living room. She was dressed in a very thin, very short, light pink cotton dress, her feet bare. She looked incredibly young. My guess barely sixteen. She smiled shyly at me with big brown eyes. She brushed back her dark blond hair.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I replied. “I’m Dream. I don’t think we’ve met. What’s your name?”

She giggled. Yes, my guess was right, she was young. “I’m Willow now. That’s my new name. I just moved in last week.”

“Nice to meet you, Willow. I usually stay at Listening Lark’s other house, but this used to be my home for many years. Is Brother Jim home?”

Are sens

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