“Rachel, what is it?”
Someone else was already picking up Rachel’s tray for her. Eric took it and thanked him without actually meeting his gaze.
“Rachel?”
His wife was staring over the room full of people, her eyes focused on a table near the back corner.
“They know about Steven,” she said in a voice that did not seem to be her own.
Before Eric could question her or stop her, she moved around him and hurried by the tables of people. Eric quickly followed her. The table she stopped at was occupied by a man and two women. The man had a rugged look about him, countered by the punky way he combed back his hair. One of the women was a tall blond with green-rimmed glasses. The other was smaller, her dark hair cut in a Dutch-boy. It was this latter one that Rachel focused a pair of glaring eyes upon.
“You’ve got my child,” she accused. “What have you done with my child?”
In her chair, Samantha leaned as far away from this crazed black woman as she could. Her eyes went round with fear.
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“Rachel, people are staring.”
Rachel didn’t hear her husband. She lowered her voice of her own accord.
“I can feel his presence here,” Rachel said. “You know something about him. You’ve taken Steven, and I want him back!”
“Who’s Steven?” Barbara asked, looking from Wil to Samantha and up to Eric.
“I don’t know anything about your boy,” Samantha said. She’d had a terrible, almost sleepless night, and really wasn’t up to an altercation with a stranger. Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t care about your boy. I care about my own little girl. I’m here looking for my child.”
Eric mumbled a surprised expletive. Rachel stared down at Samantha, tears coming into her own eyes. For a moment they were all frozen in a tableau.
It was Wil who finally spoke.
“You’re also looking for a child?” he asked.
Rachel nodded.
“His name is Steven,” she said. “He’s my . . . well, not my son, but . . .”
“But he feels like he should be your son?” Samantha asked, understanding.
“We took him in as a foster child,” Eric said.
At this, Samantha turned to Wil, as if the detective could explain the coincidence. He didn’t reply, but quietly offered the Frelengs a seat.
“My name is Eric Freleng,” the big black man said, shaking Wil’s hand in a firm grip. “This is my wife, Rachel. We’re from Columbus, Ohio. We had taken in a foster child, who ran away a few days ago. We have reason to believe he’s here somewhere.”
“I’m Samantha Winstead,” Samantha said. She almost added “Dr.” out of habit, but since she wasn’t sure of her right to that title, she left it out. “This is Detective Wil Sherer, and this is my good friend Dr. Barbara Huston.”
She didn’t feel it was right to take away Barbara’s title.
“Where are you from?” Rachel asked. Her voice had calmed considerably, although she was still shaking inside.
“Colorado,” Samantha said. “A little town called Ashleigh Creek.”
“How we got here is a long story,” Wil said. “But I think we should all tell what we know. It’s too strange that both our groups are looking for lost children and that we’re both from out-of-state.”
He took out his pad and pen in order to write everything down.
“Who wants to start?”
“I will,” Rachel said, and she began with the night at the school when she’d “blacked out.”
“Nearly the same thing happened to me,” Samantha said in amazement.
By the time they had all given their version of the story, Wil had a list of unbelievable parallels. Loss of memory, foster children who seemed to come from nowhere, the strange bondings between Samantha and Julie, between Rachel and Steven.
“There’s something I don’t get,” Barbara said. “What attracted you to Shoaling? Julie left clues in her paintings. Did Steven leave something behind?”
Rachel looked at her husband, her expression almost guilty. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell these virtual strangers about the visions she’d had.
“I just . . . just . . .”
“It’s okay,” Samantha said. “Whatever you want to say, it’s okay.”
Rachel breathed in deeply and plunged on. “I felt him. Something was drawing me to this place. I think, somehow, Steven has been calling to me.”
“I don’t feel Julie at all,” Samantha said sadly. “I feel empty inside.”
Rachel shook her head. She didn’t understand this newfound talent herself.