CHAPTER 1
Wind from the River
A bird's-eye view of South Jordan, Utah, in the summer of 1996revealed a patchwork of old homes and new housing developmentsunder a brilliant sun, interlaced with family farms, open fields,and tree-shadowed glades, all in the half embrace of the Wasatch Mountains.
A western gull from the nearby Great Salt Lake, swooping low overa suburban neighborhood, sensed breakfast, observing a feast laid out onpicnic tables positioned in the middle of a curving, snaky street barricadedagainst automobile traffic.
Seated with her husband Ted and her children at one of the tablesbeneath the shade of a cottonwood tree, Julie Bell noticed the gull descendto peck away at a few crumbs that had dropped to the pavement from theplate of rolls she had baked for the picnic that morning. Then, bobbing itshead, the bird lifted its orange beak and beady eyes to search for additionalopportunities to forage.
What kind of people, Julie wondered, were her new neighbors. It wasa welcoming sign that the Bells—just moved in—had been invited tothis street party, but no one had yet made a fuss over their arrival. Later,it would seem fortuitous that Julie bumped into the blond woman at thesalad table.
"Hi," the woman said. "I'm Jessica Ann Tobler." Then, poking her indexfinger between her lips, she appeared to be probing her teeth. Realizing thevisual image, she withdrew the digit and clamped her mouth closed.
"I probably have some lettuce between my teeth," she said.
"Uh, no, not that I can tell," Julie said.
Then, attempting to cover the woman's embarrassment with a gestureof her own, she introduced herself. "I'm Julie Bell," she said, offering herhand.
Was it weird, or somehow oddly appealing, that a stranger had chosento present herself by asking if she had food in her teeth? Curious, Juliethought. Was she insecure? Or was the woman's question a touchingvulnerability, an anomaly in what seemed an otherwise jaunty, evenflamboyant, personal style?
Julie was the stranger, after all. She had noticed the busty blond at anadjoining table, telling stories, laughing, and carrying on unselfconsciously.She had a pretty face, big sparkly hazel-green eyes, and shoulder-lengthhair.
A good-looking man sitting on the top step of the entry to a nearbyhouse smiled indulgently at the conversation. Julie took him to be thewoman's mate.
After a moment, the blond called the man over to introduce him. "Myhusband, Dave," she said, her fingers on his shoulder. Julie shook the handhe extended. "We live close by," Jessica said, "just around the corner anda couple of streets down—the house with the flagpole. Drop in when youget the urge."
It sounded like an open invitation, and while the woman's eagernesswas a little overwhelming, Julie was grateful for the connection. She had asparkle and a spontaneity that were hard not to like. Friendly and talkative,she thought. My kind of person.
"Oh, are these your kids?" Jessica asked as two of Julie's three childrenapproached.
She introduced her daughters, Trish, five, and Cady, eleven. A fewmoments later, her son, Brandon, eight, also wandered over. Jessica reachedinto her pocket and gave each of them a piece of...