Zooming in on that part of the map, Ali saw the network of roads leading off that one. The legend next to the map indicated that these were mostly primitive roads—graded dirt tracks that would probably be washboarded and potholed this time of year. Angus Road, leading off Sanctuary, appeared to be the only one of the bunch that might be paved. Ali followed the stretch of road to the compound Cami had told her was occupied by Richard Lowell. Comparing it to the home next door made it clear that, by virtue of square footage alone, Richard Lowell was most likely the group’s current leader. The satellite view didn’t allow for sorting out the exact purpose of nearby buildings, but Ali found it easy to go along with Cami’s assessment that the several larger ones were probably gathering places of one kind or another.
Based on the network of surrounding roads, Ali realized that the larger compound, the one on Angus Road, was central to all the others. That made it the logical spot to locate a church or school. But did the children from The Family actually go to school?
It took time to locate the track called Fields Road. It was near the top end of the property line. Beyond that was a wide swath of public land with the initials BLM (Bureau of Land Management) emblazoned on it.
This was the dead of winter. If there were actual fields at the end of Fields Road, they weren’t readily visible. What was visible were eight long rectangular buildings, lined up one after another. Hauling out her reading glasses, Ali determined that they were most likely greenhouses—the kinds of plastic-covered structures someone might use for raising starter tomatoes or other vegetables that could be moved outside once the weather warmed up.
The greenhouses were closest to the property line. There were several other unidentifiable smaller structures as well as a much larger one that appeared to have a small loading dock on one side. That would indicate a warehouse of some kind. So maybe this was how The Family stretched their food budget—by growing vegetables even during the winter months. Next to that was a large rectangular building with a long straight stretch of pavement leading away from it. It wasn’t hard to determine that had to be a landing strip of some kind and a long one at that. So perhaps the largest of the unidentified buildings was an airplane hangar.
“You certainly look engrossed,” Sister Anselm observed, arriving silently at Ali’s side. “Anything interesting?”
The nun looked somewhat refreshed after her short break, but she hadn’t stayed away long enough to take a nap.
“This is where Enid is from,” Ali said, shrinking the image a little, passing the iPad to the nun, and then pointing to the property owned by The Family. “Gordon Tower’s place is the one there in the lower left-hand corner of that network of roads. His is the only house on Tower Road.”
Sister Anselm studied the map and then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “What about it?”
“Cami estimates that there are between twenty-five and thirty houses just like Gordon’s on a three-thousand-acre property belonging to a group that calls itself ‘The Family.’ The road name in question generally coincides with the name of at least one of the families living on it.”
“Twenty-five to thirty or so families as well?”
“Yes,” Ali answered, “but here’s something interesting. Cami has learned that each of the households has two licensed drivers. In Gordon Tower’s case, he’s one driver and Edith is the other. But each household has only one registered voter.”
“I assume that, in the Towers’ case, the registered voter would be Gordon?” Sister Anselm asked.
Ali nodded. “That’s right.”
“What is this,” Sister Anselm demanded, “a stateside version of the Taliban?”
It was gratifying to Ali that Sister Anselm had come to the same conclusion she had. “That’s how it looks to me,” Ali replied. “According to Cami, each of these families receives some kind of stipend from the church. So my question is, where does the money come from? Is it possible there’s some kind of criminal activity going on that keeps them afloat financially?”
Sister Anselm thought for a moment before nodding. “That could be it, and they’re desperately afraid Enid might spill the beans. Think about it; by simply walking away, she caused enough concern that they sent out at least one searcher and maybe more to bring her back. And that was before she had us for allies.”
“In other words,” Ali said, “now that Enid has us, she may be even more at risk than when she was out on that road alone in the middle of the night.”
“And that makes her our responsibility,” Sister Anselm declared. “The only way they’re going to get her back is over my dead body. Now, according to my monitor, Baby Ann is crying. I need to go tend to her.”
Once Sister Anselm was gone, Ali resumed studying her iPad. If The Family was engaged in something illegal and doing their best to keep it away from outside scrutiny, it stood to reason that they’d be conducting that business, whatever it was, at a spot as far away from prying eyes as possible. That meant the structures closest to the BLM wasteland might be a good place to start looking, especially since that’s where the airstrip was located. Time passed while Ali stared at the screen, searching for answers to the puzzle, but the static satellite image told her nothing.
“Ms. Reynolds?”
Ali looked up and was surprised to find David Upton standing there.
“Any word on how she’s doing?” he asked.
Unwilling to give out unauthorized information, Ali shook her head. “Not so far,” she said.
She glanced into the nursery where Sister Anselm was just returning Baby Ann to her bassinet.
“Sister Anselm will be out in a minute. Why don’t we ask her?”
The nun emerged from the nursery, caught sight of David, and greeted him with a handshake and a warm smile. “You’ll be relieved to know that the little one is doing very well, Mr. Upton. And Enid—that’s her name by the way, Enid Tower—is improving. She hasn’t fully come around yet, and she’s sleeping right now, but she’s had a few periods of wakefulness. Would you care to sit with her for a while? You’re welcome to do so if you’d like.”
Ali was stunned. Whatever happened to HIPAA? she wondered. David Upton, too, seemed shocked.
“Really?” he asked.
“Of course,” Sister Anselm said. “I’ll let you into her room. Be sure to use the hand sanitizer before you step inside.”
“What was that all about?” Ali demanded when Sister Anselm returned to the waiting room. “I thought visitors were supposed to be approved family members only. He’s a complete stranger.”
“I put him on the approved list,” Sister Anselm said. “The Good Samaritan was the real deal, and David Upton is, too. Besides, just because something’s the law of the land doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea. Mr. Upton’s is the last face Enid saw before her world went black. He’s also, for whatever reason, the only person to whom she confided her wish to never go home. I’m hoping the jolt of seeing him might help jump-start her return to consciousness. We need to hear her story, but I suspect there’s someone else who could supply that information, too.”
“Who?”
“The person who was sent to bring her back.”
“Yes, of course,” Ali said. “But how do you propose to find him, and once you do, how do you expect to get him to talk?”
Sister Anselm glanced around the waiting room before she answered. The place was surprisingly empty. “He was sent to retrieve her, possibly to keep her from spilling the beans about a group totally dedicated to keeping their secrets secret. Having failed to deliver, it’s safe to assume that he’s fallen out of favor with whoever set him that task. To get back in The Family’s good graces, there’s a good chance he’ll take a second crack at her.”
“Here?” Ali asked. “In the hospital?”
“Where else?” Sister Anselm asked. “They need to act promptly, before she regains consciousness and before she can tell anyone what she knows.”