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I wasn’t coming outhere to obsess about Ethan. I was coming here to do my duty as a citizen and to help with an open murder case. There was nothing wrong with my wanting to make sure the Sagebrush County Sheriff’s Office got a clear picture of the man Ethan was. There was something noble about it.
    At least that’s what I was telling myself as I saw the sign: ZUNI RETREAT : ALL SPIRITUAL TRAVELERS WELCOME . I made the turnoff. The road to the retreat was well-paved and wound through a small valley. I could see the dusty brown hills rising on either side as I drove along.
    As I followed the road up to the retreat, I saw five young women walking in a line, all wearing lululemon. Their perky butts encased in black Lycra reminded me of the rich housewives I’d see leaving SoulCycle on my way to work, with their huge diamond rings glinting in the early-morning light. Some of the young women here in New Mexico had their arms linked, deep in conversation. Others were just smiling gently at the horizon, where the late-afternoon sun was still beaming on the hilltops. I couldn’t tell if they looked relaxed or lobotomized. Their identical demeanors made me anxious about fitting in, an ungainly ten-year-old on her first day of sleep-away camp. Did I have the wrong clothes? The wrong hair?
    I parked in a lot near the main lodge, which was surrounded by three outer buildings, all of them done in a tasteful mission revival style: all courtyards and gentle arches. From the website I knew that one of the buildings was for guest rooms, one was for classes, and one was for dining.
    As soon as I stepped out of my car, I nearly collided with a man. He was so close to me I could smell him. He had theclean musk of someone who had recently showered but didn’t wear deodorant. I hadn’t seen him walk over. It was almost like he’d been spawned by the asphalt, and this silent approach startled me. I registered his gender only because right before I bumped into him, I noticed his hairy toes sticking out of leather thong sandals. Even in the empty space here, I was momentarily claustrophobic.
    â€œWhoopsie-daisy,” he said. “Gotta watch out for you!” Then he laughed a pleasant chuckle with his mouth open wide. I could see that his teeth were blindingly white, like a reality TV starlet’s veneers. Maybe they looked so bright because the rest of him was so tan. He had an unusual, attractive face, with hazel eyes that were slightly saffron-colored and thick, dark lashes. I wondered if he was part Indian, because his features suggested a perfect mixture of Eastern and Western forebears. His light-purple robe complimented his corporeal color scheme.
    I stuck my hand out to introduce myself, but he had already started to bow toward me. “I’m Janus,” he said. “I’m on staff here. Welcome to your first stay at the Zuni Retreat.” He radiated a contented warmth.
    â€œI’m Dana,” I said. “How did you know it was my first stay?”
    â€œI try to keep up with all of our students. Unless I am devoted to our children, I won’t be able to help them progress. And besides, you’re the only one checking in today.” He grinned at me. “Let me help you to the Ganesha desk. We call our reception area the Ganesha desk because Ganesha is the Hindu god of beginnings.”
    I nodded. The lingo sounded ridiculous to me (“ our children ”?), and the theological references seemed to be a polytheisticmuddle. But at least the retreat seemed to be offering a lot of personal attention for the expense. While it wasn’t what I was really looking for, I imagined that personal touch was what the other guests were paying for, and what made them come back. “I’m just going to take my bag out of the trunk,” I told him.
    Before I could move, Janus waved his hand. “It’s my pleasure to help you. Allow me.” I watched him hoist my bag from