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looked a little scared, so Kristen took him off display.

Perry’s eyes were red rimmed with the emotional overflow. “I just am so filled with love and gratitude for my family.”

There was a gentle applause, and then Perry sighed before he continued. “And not just my family, but our family as a community. We have been through a storm, but we have come out strong, and healthy.”

There was reverent nodding throughout the crowd.

“And as with all the children in the community,” Perry went on, “you guys will be here to watch Neptune grow up, to be part of his life, and to be his extended family. And Kristen and I are deeply honored to share this experience with you in that way.”

Gentle applause followed his comments.

“So, today,” he said, “we are going to plant the tree of life. The placenta is what nourishes the baby during its time in the womb. It’s an ultimate fertilizer. After much research and deliberation, we decided to plant an orange tree in honor of Neptune. The placenta will fertilize it, and out of the life that nourished our baby, new life will form.”

A titter of applause followed, and then Perry motioned toward a couple of the community members, who grabbed shovels.

“Can someone … ” Kristen gestured around with the baby, and Vicki was standing closest to her. “Here. Can you hold him while I help with the planting?”

Vicki looked a little surprised but took the baby. “Sure,” she replied before she looked down and cuddled the little bundle. “Hey little guy.”

Neptune’s face contorted and then softened into a smile.

Vicki lit up as she stared into Neptune’s face.

I leaned over and found myself chuckling as I touched his smooth cheeks and stared into his big, blue eyes.

“Oh my God,” I gushed to Vicki as my heart melted.

“I know,” she whined. “So cute.”

I looked over at the planting group. Kristen was wearing gardening gloves, and in her hands was the reason for the occasion. I had never seen one before, but the placenta was a large piece of bloody tissue wrapped in butcher shop paper.

She opened the package, and I fought the impulse to gag. I knew it was supposed to be a beautiful reverent moment, but it reminded me of the time I fell off my bike and ripped my leg clean open to the bone. As I writhed in agony and the doctor sewed me up, I remember seeing bloody human meat falling out of my body. If I hadn’t been in so much pain, I would have thought it was cool.

Now, looking at the flesh coming out of the package and into the ground, like a flabby slab of raw sirloin, I couldn’t have been more grossed out.

The rest of the crowd seemed to be wrapped in the poetic reverence, life, nourishment, returning the placenta to Mother Earth, and whatever else.

But I wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

Still, I didn’t expect to be so excited to get a text from Clare Claremont.

Meet me at the cabin.

Chapter 14

I flashed the text to Vicki, shrugged, and slipped away from the party. I knew she wanted to be there, because it was important to continue to show support for our current client, even while chasing down leads for another one.

The walk down to the cabins was long. In the golf cart, we had covered a lot of ground, but relying on my own two feet took considerably more effort. Once I was out of sight enough not to disturb the party, I jogged way down the hill and to the retreat center. It didn’t occur to me until I was halfway there that the implication was these people were some how involved in, if not directly responsible for, a murder.

Maybe coming down here by myself wasn’t the best idea.

Too late now, though.

I was breathless and sweaty when I arrived at the cabins. The retreat center was silent. The noise of the party was long behind me, and I had never noticed before how much ambient city noise I was used to, even in Sedona. The absolute piercing silence down here was completely maddening.

I suddenly understood why people talk about getting away from it all, losing perspective, and all of that crap. It had never made any sense to me. I loved the energy of city life. Sure, there was a naturist Arizonan in me, but the city appealed to me.

I found the romantic Elm Grove cabin and knocked on the door.

Clare answered it.

“Hi,” I said. “I got your text.”

She sighed. “Yeah. Come in.”

The room smelled of cheap body spritzer and chem lab air fresheners, and I coughed at the scent. It was a sparsely furnished room, decorated in red and white, I presumed to go with the romantic theme. A king sized bed with a maroon comforter sat in the middle of the room, with red and white throw pillows. An antique wash basin was situated in one corner, and a rough log hewn desk in another.

Jim sat in a wooden chair and rested his elbows on his knees. He was a tall man in his early forties, with salt and pepper hair and wire rimmed glasses. He wore blue basketball shorts and a black athletic brand t-shirt.

“I didn’t want to go along with it,” he blurted as soon as he saw me.

“Wait,” Clare told him. “He doesn’t know anything yet.”

“What’s going on?” I asked as I critically scanned their faces and the room for clues.

“Christ, Clare.” Jim rubbed his face. “Are you really going to do this? Is it worth it all, really?”

“Honey, just, shhh,” she said.

Jim threw up his hands. “I can’t do this. Enough is enough.” Then he got up and left the room.

“What’s going on?” I

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