Chapter 21
21
“Oh, wow! Dudes!” Mikki waved.
I stood frozen in place as Mikki, Grace, and Karen continued towards them. Forcing myself to move, I kept my expression neutral even as my thoughts spun. How was he here? Had he also made the connection between Catherine and the Center? Had Officer Kim told Catherine’s parents about my frenzied call?
Jonah smiled, squinting, as we approached. This motherfucker wasn’t even wearing sunglasses. Nothing to hide. He shook Mikki’s and Karen’s hands, then turned to me.
“Hi.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jonah.”
So we were pretending not to know each other. Okay.
“Thea.” I tried to inflect some poison into my voice as I grasped his palm, but he just nodded and turned back to the group. The other man stepped forward. He was shorter, with close-cropped dark hair and a genial smile. “Hi, I’m Ramit.”
I tried to seem warm, normal. The third in their group, a tiny fortysomething woman in a strappy pink bikini, bounded forward and wrapped me in a hug. “Hi! I’m Dawne with an e !” She wore a thick, flowery perfume. When she stepped back, I got a closer look: high ponytail with extensions, shimmering bronzer, and lip filler.
“Thea,” I said, but she was already back by Jonah’s side. He was saying they’d gotten there that morning.
“And we’ve just been unwinding .” Dawne gave a happy sigh. “It’s so special to be here.”
“Where are you from?” Mikki asked.
“LA.” Dawne nodded serenely, her hand pressed to her ample chest. She looked like someone who could’ve been on Last Chance Love .
“Let’s finish the tour, and then you all can hang out before dinner!” Grace’s enthusiasm was unflagging. I glanced at Jonah and found he was looking at me. He gave me a reassuring smile. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. Just seeing him was unlodging the anger from our last conversation.
“What is that?” Mikki pointed. On the far side of the deck sat what looked like an enormous barrel. “Is that a hot tub?”
“It is!” Grace grinned. “Japanese-style. It’s filled with water from the natural springs on this property, which feed the fountains too. You’re going to love using it at night.”
Jesus. Hanging out in a hot tub with Jonah?
I kept a pasted-on smile as we bid farewell and continued the tour. As we walked, a new thought struck me: Was it possible Jonah was somehow connected to the Center? Had they sent him to New York to gather intel? Was he now here pretending to be an attendee to manipulate me?
Or was that completely paranoid?
Either way, his presence was definitely a sign that I was on the right track, whether he’d come here of his own accord or not. If he was working for the Center, though, then my thin cover was definitely blown. No way yet to know.
Grace led us past the pool to another canopied area with tables and chairs. “This is the veranda. We usually eat here if it’s nice out. But there’s also a dining area inside.”
“Ooh.” Mikki craned her neck. “I’m so hungry. I didn’t get a chance to eat lunch.”
“Don’t worry, we’re putting together some snacks for you guys now.” Grace led us down a gravel path further into the desert, behind the castle, which was dotted with several large structures.
“That’s the yoga pavilion.” Grace pointed to a large, circular khaki tent. “We’ll hold our sessions there.”
Beyond the tent was… nothing. Just flatland, then gently swelling hills, then the mountains. The air was so clear I could see the crinkles and curves of their peaks. They didn’t even look that far, though they had to be hundreds of miles away.
“That’s our ceremonial space.” Grace pointed to a circular area marked by benches. A huge stack of logs sat in the center, presumably for a bonfire. “And past it is the greenhouse.” The glass structure sparkled in the sun. “We grow a lot of our own food. We’re hoping to expand soon. One more thing.” Grace led us towards a line of smaller circular tents. “Your rooms!”
“Tents?” Mikki sounded unenthused.
“Semipermanent yurts,” Grace said. “They’re actually very comfortable.”
“We can’t stay in the permanent building?” Mikki gestured. I was surprised at her boldness.
“There’s no space.” Grace shrugged. “The rooms are taken by residents.”
“All of them?” Karen clucked. “That place is huge.”
“Well, a lot of the rooms are studios.”
“Studios?” I echoed.
“Like I said, almost everyone here is an artist.” Grace nodded. “So we each get our own space to create.”
“Well, good.” Karen patted Mikki’s arm, her mouth quirking at the corner. “We wouldn’t want to interrupt anyone’s creating, would we?”
Mikki rolled her eyes but smiled back.
“How many residents are there?” I asked.
“Currently…” Grace looked up. “Well, there’s Moon and Sol, of course. Steven’s here full-time.” Steven—the mosaic guy? Was he living here?
“And we have three other full-time residents who like to leave during retreat weekends,” Grace finished.
Could one of them be Catherine? If so, where was she now?
If only I could just ask Grace. But not yet—first I had to spend more time with her, to see if I could trust any answers she’d give. Because so far, at least, she seemed like Team CRH all the way.
The yurt was actually larger than it looked from the outside. Beyond the cot, there was a beat-up dresser with a battery-operated lamp, a round mirror, and a squat cushioned chair by the window. The window was just an open square—no glass, no way to close it, just an embedded screen with a roll of fabric tied at the top. A warm breeze blew in, lifting my hair.
Outside, facing away from the tiny yurt village, was that endless desert landscape.
I felt a twinge of unease as I perched on the bed, mindlessly opening my backpack and pulling things out. I’d assumed this would all be larger, fancier, like a bougie yoga retreat—dozens of people sitting in rows of folding chairs, watching speakers pontificate from a stage. This was small, eclectic, even a bit dumpy. And much more intimate. Which meant I would have less of a chance to hide during whatever healing sessions were going to take place. Somehow I hadn’t even considered that aspect of the retreat when signing up.
“Knock, knock.” Mikki opened the thin wooden door and wandered in, gesturing with a vape pen. “Looks like we’re neighbors. If you hear any primal screams coming from my yurt… I’m just considering how much money I paid to stay in a tent.”
“We are kind of roughing it, huh?” I chuckled.
“Yep. You want?” She held up the pen. “It’s just nicotine. I can’t even imagine being high here. Can you?”
“At the castle? No way. Too overwhelming. And thanks, but I’m good.”
She passed me in a cloud of sandalwood perfume and peered out the window. “How are you feeling about this place?”
“It’s… interesting,” I said. “Different from what I expected.”
“Me too. They must work miracles to charge what they do.” Mikki watched me, blowing out a plume of mint-scented smoke. “What are you here for?”
Oh, not much, just doing some amateur sleuthing around a missing child actor I met in a psych ward.
“Um, you know. Dating issues and stuff. You?”
“Same.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it soon. But as a therapist, you’re probably used to talking about this stuff.”
“Well, not in a group setting like this.” My chest tightened. “I’m kind of dreading it, to be honest.”
“I’d rather get a root canal. But my therapist pushed me to go.”
It felt calming to commiserate. But I should also be doing said sleuthing. “So you heard about this place from your therapist?”
“Yeah. She said they were doing ‘cutting-edge’ work.” Mikki used finger quotes. “Whatever that means. What about you?”
“I heard the podcast.”
“Oh yeah. I got sucked into that too. We’ll see what the famous Moon and Sol are like in real life. No one can be that happy.” She paused, hands on hips. “Do you think it’s weird that we haven’t seen them yet? Like, where are they?”
“No idea. We should ask Grace.”
She glanced at her phone. “We still need the Wi-Fi password.”
“Yes. We do.” Not having any connection to the outside world was making me feel even more on edge.
“What’s that?” Mikki pointed to my eighth-grade diary, which I’d tossed on my bed.
“Oh.” I put a palm over the cheekily grinning cat, embarrassed. “It’s an old diary. Where it all began, you know?”
She scrunched her nose and smiled. “I do.”
A male grunt from outside made me jump and Mikki spin around.
“Hello?” he called. Not Jonah or Ramit.
Mikki pulled the door open. “Hi?”
“Suitcase.” A man with a reddish, scruffy beard and a black baseball cap waited on the other side. “Which color?” His voice was sharp, almost gruff.
“Mine’s blue. Oh, thank you.” I grabbed the handle and pulled it in the yurt.
“Mine’s the black one.” Mikki strode outside. “Wow, how’d you bring all three?”
I’d seen only one photo on that art site, but our luggage carrier did in fact appear to be Steven Leister, the mosaic artist. I leaned out the doorway to watch him follow Mikki to her yurt next door.
An hour later, I was lying in a lounge chair, my stomach filled with homemade hummus and cut veggies and buttery popcorn, a ginger lemonade sweating on the tiny table next to me. Karen and Dawne were in the heated pool, chatting and laughing. Mikki, on my left side, was fully engaged with the now-shirtless Jonah beside her. She’d changed into a black bikini that made my flowery one-piece feel childish. Ramit had left to shower before dinner—maybe he had anxiety about being naked in front of everyone too.
Despite Jonah’s proximity, I felt drowsy and relaxed in the sunshine. A flowering bush nearby released the sweet scent of honeysuckle, and a wind chime tinkled delicately. When was the last time I’d been on vacation? Not for years—COVID, grad school, and my first social work job had kept me homebound. Now, my body felt heavy and immobile, like it was melting onto the plush beach towel.
Grace had gotten us the Wi-Fi password— healing123 —and I’d immediately texted Dom that Jonah the PI was here too. She’d responded with a series of exclamation points. And then: Hmm well maybe you really ARE on to something…
I’d responded: What if he’s a spy for this place?
That’d be CRAZY. Can you question him about it?
I can try. Not that I had detective skills… but maybe my clinical skills would help?
What are they like? Dom had asked, sending emojis for the sun and moon.
I’d responded: No sightings yet. Grace had told us Moon and Sol were indeed around but “preparing” for us, and that we’d see them at dinner.
I knew I had to do much more surveying, more sleuthing. But I also had to fool everyone into thinking that I was here for the right reasons, didn’t I? And if that meant hanging out by the pool for an hour or two… then maybe that was okay.
Mikki got up and wandered towards the pool.
“So, how are you doing?” Jonah settled into her vacated chair, his voice low.
“Oh, I’m fine.” The relaxation vanished; now my body was as tight as a spring. “Just loving that I get to spend more time with you.”
“I appreciate you keeping everything under wraps. And also…” He angled himself towards me. “I wanted to apologize for what happened.”
The words surprised me, but I recovered quickly. “?‘What happened’? That’s what you’re calling it?”
“Fair. What I did.” He ran a hand through his curls. “I didn’t mean any harm, but I can see how intrusive that was, coming into your home like that. I should’ve kept us at the bar.”
Gross. It made me feel like a chess piece, one he could move around at will. I didn’t answer, and he went on. “It’s a weird field. I don’t break the law, but there’re a lot of gray areas. And when I get wrapped up in a case—that’s always my focus, above everything else.”
I stared out at the pool. Mikki was deep in conversation with Karen and Dawne.
“And for the record,” he went on, smiling faintly, “I’ve had more than my share of one-night stands. So I’m really sorry for sounding like a judgmental, sexist pig. That was an extremely shitty thing to say.”
“I appreciate the apology.” I paused. “But how can I believe you? For all I know, you work for Moon and Sol.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You think they hired me to go to New York, talk to you, and then come back here and pretend to be a guest so I can put you off the scent?”
“Well… yeah.”
He scratched his chin. “Think about it. If they’re doing anything shady, why would they have me here conspiring with you? Wouldn’t it be easier for them to just host a normal-seeming retreat and expect you to go away after?”
That stumped me.
“You’ve heard of Occam’s razor, right?” he asked.
“Please don’t ask me if I’ve heard of Occam’s razor,” I snapped. Any goodwill from his apology melted away. God, he was condescending.
“Sorry.” He shrugged. “It just seems unnecessarily complicated. But maybe it makes sense to you.” He turned to me, lowered his voice even further. “I understand if you don’t trust me. That’s fine. We can keep our distance from each other if you want. I just thought it might make sense for us to pool our resources.”
“Okay, then tell me this—why’d you end up here?”
He opened his mouth, but suddenly Mikki appeared over us, water droplets glistening on her shoulders. Jonah relinquished her chair, and she sat, wrapping herself in a towel.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Smirking at me, she winked.