I ran a Google search for “meditation at Red Fox Co-op,” but nothing came up connecting the two. Red Fox had a website that was still under construction but gave no other information. Then I tried meditation styles and found articles on the different settings, body postures, and music one should use when trying to meditate. Having never been able to remain still for long unless I had a riveting book in my hands, I’d never tried to sit on the floor with my legs crossed and my eyes closed, attempting to block out all distractions as I focused on a single mental image.
Some techniques required monitoring one’s breathing. Others called for chanting a mantra over and over again until the meditative state was acquired. Yet another recommended emptying one’s mind of all thoughts and visions, thus achieving a state of blankness and absolute tranquility. As far as I could see, the only cost in creating an appropriate space would be the purchase of a few inspirational CDs or possibly some incense. Unless Jasper was charging exorbitant rates for a special chant or for guiding his guests into a state of tranquility and focus, then the profits he was making from the teens made no sense.
On a whim, I entered the search terms “college students” and “meditation” and scanned a select group of articles citing the connection between meditation and stress reduction. According to several reliable sources, the number of depressed, anxiety-ridden, and medicated coeds was on the rise and kids just like Trey were experimenting with all sorts of remedies, including drugs, to reduce their stress levels.
“Drugs,” I muttered with a heavy heart, my fear for my son’s welfare increasing. “What kind of drugs?” My fingers moved automatically over the keyboard, and I forgot all about my glass of wine as a list of the most popular illegal drugs used by coeds popped up on my screen. “Marijuana is the most widely spread,” I read aloud from an article, somehow needing to hear the sound of a voice, even if it was only my own. “Also included are steroids, LSD, ecstasy, and Rohypnol. Prescription drugs most frequently abused are Ritalin and OxyContin.”
I eased my laptop onto the sofa and walked over to the fire. Pushing at the burning wood with my fireplace poker, I stared at the shifting flames and wondered if Jasper was trafficking in illegal drugs. But it didn’t seem likely. Sean had told me that he and other Dunston police officers conducted impromptu visits to the co-op, and each time Jasper had invited the law enforcement agents to look around. More often than not, the cops did a sweep of the cabins and tents, and on one occasion had brought a K-9 unit along. However, the co-op’s structures and grounds had always been drug-free.
Still, something nagged at me. Over the course of the past few months, life had given me too many lessons proving that things weren’t always as they appeared, and with Jasper’s flippant attitude toward such an abrupt lifestyle change, I suspected him of hiding an ugly secret.
It had grown late and I was tired, but I continued to prod the burning logs, nudging orange sparks into life and ruminating over the changes at Red Fox Mountain. When my phone rang, the sound seemed to come from far away, and I realized with a start that my focus on the flickering fire had been so intent that I’d involuntarily reached a meditative state.
“Sorry to call at this time of night, but I just wanted to check in on you.” Sean’s voice flowed through the speaker, smooth and sweet as honey.
“I’m glad you did. It’s been a strange evening, but before I tell you about my day, how has yours been? Any progress in the investigation?”
Sean sighed and I could sense his weariness and frustration. “We interviewed Coralee Silver. She unabashedly admitted to arguing with Melissa and threatening her as well.”
Suddenly, the poker felt too heavy in my hands. Dropping it on the hearth, I asked, “Did she…is she Melissa’s killer?”
“No,” Sean answered readily. “Believe me, there were several officers who would have liked Ms. Silver to have been the culprit. She is a rather unpleasant woman, to put it mildly. However, there is apparently one gentleman in town who finds her utterly winsome.”
I groaned. “Let me guess. This guy’s provided her with an alibi.”
“You got it,” he said.
Imagining Coralee’s green eyes narrowing with hostility, her pointer finger raised in an intimidating gesture, and Melissa Plume’s rightful indignation, I clenched my jaw tightly, fighting back a surge of anger. “Are you sure she’s in the clear?”
Sean seemed reluctant to elaborate. “This is between you and me, Lila, but Ms. Silver’s gentleman friend escorted her to the party Saturday evening and then rushed her out of the old town hall well before Melissa was killed.”
“How do you know what time they left?”
Clearing his throat, Sean haltingly explained that not only did Coralee’s date have a penchant for engaging in sexual encounters in public places, but he also enjoyed filming said encounters. The video included a time stamp.
“Oh my,” was the only reply I could manage. “Please tell me they didn’t pick the Fountain of the Nine Muses. That’s my favorite place to eat lunch on a sunny day.”