Valley of the Scarecrow (5 page)

Her dashboard clock read 7:19 when Kelly pulled up to the curb at Rich and Lizzy’s place on Stadler Avenue. She’d spent the entire afternoon with her grandfather, talking to him about his memories of Miller’s Grove, his father, the Man in Black, and many other things, but basically spending the last several hours repeatedly assuring him she wasn’t going to go traipsing out into the woods trying to find Joshua’s buried treasure anytime soon. He was skeptical, but over supper she’d finally convinced him she couldn’t do it regardless if she wanted to, seeing as she had no idea where Miller’s Grove was located. It certainly wasn’t on any of the Iowa maps she’d seen over the years, and if she didn’t know which direction to even start driving in, it was unlikely she’d be getting herself in trouble with the Man in Black anytime soon.

Back in Cedar Rapids, she had more urgent matters to worry about anyway. She was nervous as hell about having to face Dan tonight but Rich was probably right, they had to face each other again sometime, might as well get it over with. Kelly shut off the car, pocketed the keys, and stepped out onto the street.

Rich rented the bottom floor of a beat-up saltbox-style house and the owner, a man named Jack Travis, lived upstairs. Jack was never around, which on the one hand was a great thing since it basically gave Rich and
Lizzy the run of the place, but it also sucked because he was never there to fix anything so the house was crumbling to the ground around them. It needed all new windows, the roof leaked, and it was badly in need of a new coat of paint. The once olive green paint was practically worn down to bare wood, the last patches of color hanging in ugly peeling strips. About the best thing that could be said about the old house was that it had a huge fenced backyard and at the very back Rich had built a circular stone fire pit way back from the noise of the street. Seeing what he did for a living, as part of his rental agreement Rich naturally looked after the lawn and over the last few years he’d turned the backyard into a private oasis. It was where Rich and Lizzy and the rest of the gang always hung out together.

Check that: it was where they always
used
to hang out together.

Noticing that Dan’s silver Toyota SR5 4×4 was parked in the driveway, Kelly sighed and walked around the house into the backyard, concentrating on nothing more that putting one foot in front of the other. If she thought too hard about what was about to happen, she’d probably turn around and run away.

As fate would have it, Dan was the first person she ran into by the gate, exiting the back door with his hands full of beer bottles and trying to carry a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips clamped in his teeth. When he saw her, he opened his mouth to speak, but only managed to drop the chips and two of the beers trying to catch it on the way to the ground. One of the beer bottles shattered on the patio stones, while the other hit grass and was okay. Dan just stood his ground, not knowing whether to pick up the broken glass, or to greet Kelly.

“Smooth move, ex-lax,” Rich said, coming out of the
house behind his friend, but when he saw Kelly standing there at the gate, he stopped laughing and gave her a quick wave. “Hi, Kelly. Glad you could make it. Umm…here, let me take those.” Rich grabbed the unbroken beer from Dan, scooped the bag of chips off the ground, and bolted for the fire pit. Without looking back, he shouted, “Clean that shit up, okay? One of you drunks will cut yourselves later if you don’t.”

With Rich gone, there was no one else to distract the estranged couple and they were forced to look at each other for the first time in months. “Hi, Kel,” Dan said, clearly as nervous as she was. Dropping the beer had certainly proven that much at least. “I’m just gonna grab the dustpan and broom inside. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure. I’ll get the big pieces while you’re gone.”

“Okay, but don’t cut yourself.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I do worry about you though. Always.”

“Well don’t. I’m a big girl.”

Dan nodded, disappearing into the house, and Kelly felt like reaching up and strangling herself. She hadn’t meant to be so cold. After all, he was only trying to be nice.
I’m a big girl now? Jesus! What a stupid thing to say.
Turnabout was fair play though. Dan had really hurt her and she was obviously still pretty pissed off. If he’d thought she was going to show up here and things would be just like the old days, he was kidding himself.
Doesn’t mean you have to go out of your way to be a total bitch though.
Point taken. She’d try to chill out and relax. At least give him a chance. After all, the truth was she wanted him back probably as much as he wanted her.

Dan returned, handing Kelly the scoop while he worked the broom. Kneeling before him felt weird and made her skin start to tingle, wonderfully familiar and strangely
intimate at the same time.
Damn he looks good,
she thought, a smile touching her lips as her eyes roamed over his shaven head, his hazel eyes, his full lips, his chocolate skin, his broad, muscular shoulders and washboard abs hidden only by a thin black cotton T-shirt. She stopped herself there, knowing if she looked much lower she might be in trouble here.

“What are you smiling about, Kel?” Dan asked, encouraged. “See anything you like down there?”

Kelly stood up, the moment quickly lost, mad at herself for instigating things. “Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, remember? How’s that slut Tracey doing these days? She might be able to help you out.”

“Ah come on. Don’t be like that. I was never with Tracey. Not then and definitely not now. It was all a big mistake. I’m really sorry I fucked things up. Honest I am, and I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”

“Just like that, huh? You’re sorry and I’m supposed to just fall back into your arms? It’s not that easy, Dan, and words are pretty damn cheap.”

“I know they are. Look…all I’m asking is for you to give me a second chance. I screwed up. I was an asshole but I love you and you know I do. Give me a chance to prove it to you. No games, no promises, no bullshit. Just a chance, okay?”

They’d finished cleaning up the broken glass and Kelly handed Dan the dustpan. “We’ll see. I need to think about it.” She walked away, headed for the fire pit where Rich and Lizzy were trying to pretend they hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on their private conversation.

“What did he say?” Lizzy asked after giving her friend a hug.

“Said he was an asshole,” Kelly said, smiling, a fresh tear falling down her cheek.

“I already told ya that,” Rich said, and they all started laughing.

The bonfire party progressed surprisingly well. Dan minded his manners and gave Kelly just enough breathing room that she felt comfortable being there and having fun but not close enough she felt he was staking any claim on her. In fact, after a few Budweisers there were moments she wished he would get a little closer, the thought of his warm body pressed against her constantly on her mind the cooler the night became. She fought the urges to go to him though, determined not to be such a pushover. He had to learn there was no way she would ever put up with that kind of shit again. Until he did, they’d both just have to get used to being a little cold at night.

Their friend Patrick Brannon showed up carrying a twelve-pack of Corona and his camera bag slung over his shoulder like usual. It was hard to label an unusual guy like him, but if asked, he’d probably describe himself as a “recovering goth” these days. Pat was a quirky guy who’d recently graduated from all the black lipstick and pancake makeup, but wasn’t quite ready to give up the spiky hairstyles or dark baggy clothing. He was definitely a bit of a weirdo, quiet and moody if he was depressed, but he’d always been too comical and cheery to live the solemn life of a true goth and for the most part he was a fun guy to be around. The very fact that he was so different from the rest of the gang was partly what had brought them together. Sure, he was still trying to find his way in the world, but hell, who wasn’t these days. They were all
outcasts to a certain degree, and being a strange dude or not, Pat had always seemed to fit right in. Kelly couldn’t remember ever seeing Pat without his camera. It was almost a physical piece of him, another part of his body as important to him as an arm or leg. Even he would admit he used the camera lens as a buffer to keep the world at bay sometimes; his tiny shield he sometimes needed to help cope with situations he wasn’t comfortable in. Without it he’d be lost. He’d taken thousands of pictures of them over the years and Kelly was sure there’d be a hell of a lot of them she hoped no one else ever saw. True to form, he reached into his bag and started snapping pictures of Rich trying to get the fire started.

“Hey, Pat,” Kelly said. “Why are you by yourself? Where’s Sheila?”

“Who knows? She dumped me last week. I’m flying solo at the moment.” He announced his breakup with a smile on his face so he couldn’t be all that upset about it. Kelly asked anyway.

“That sucks. You okay?”

“Sure. No biggie. Apparently she thought I was going way too straight for her tastes. She’s pretty hard-core and I was getting tired of it. Goth is for kids, man. You gotta grow up sometime, right?”

“We do?” Lizzy said. “Bummer.”

“Sorry to break it to ya, but yeah. To be honest, I’m glad she’s gone. She’s already seeing some Marilyn Man-son dipshit in a band across town.”

“Hey, easy now,” Rich said, wrapping his arm around Liz. “Nothing wrong with Manson, dude. I’ve been singing in bands all my life. Rock stars are cool!”

“Yeah, which is why you cut grass for a living.” Pat smirked and held up his hands in a peace gesture. “Kidding, man. In fact, I was gonna ask you and Dan if you
had any work for me? If I’m going legit here, I’d better get a job sometime…you know, make something of myself. My old man would probably have a heart attack if he heard me talking like this. Or an orgasm, I guess. What do you think, Rich?”

“About your dad having an orgasm?”

“No asswipe…about me working with you guys? You don’t have to pay me much. I just wanna hang out and see what this working-for-a-living thing is all about. See if I’ll hate it as much as I think I will.”

“Thought you were going to be a professional photographer?” Rich said, stalling for time, not wanting to discuss this topic.

“Sure, and I also wanted to be a chef, a race car driver, and I even considered becoming either a priest or a porn star, but none of those jobs have worked out yet, ya know? Just thought I’d try working with you guys for a while.”

Rich turned to Dan and held out his arms, palms out, as if he didn’t know how to answer their friend. Luckily it wasn’t his decision to make anyway. Dan was the boss so it was he who needed to speak.

“Can’t do it, buddy,” Dan said. “A year ago, definitely. Hell, three months ago maybe, but things really suck right now. We’re having trouble just finding work for Rich and me. If things ever pick up again, I’ll call you for sure, but I can’t promise you anything right now. Sorry.”

“No worries. It was just a thought. I can work for nothing if that will help you guys out any? I don’t really give a shit about money.”

“Wow. That’s really nice of you, Pat,” Lizzy said.

“Yeah, it is, but right now we don’t have work for any of us.” Dan glanced around to look Kelly in the eyes, then quickly dropped his gaze to the ground. “I didn’t
really want to get into this tonight, but now that we’re talking about it I may as well spill the beans. I was over seeing my accountant this week and things are bad. Really bad. In fact, there’s a good chance Rich and I will be shutting down the company next month.”

“What?” Pat said, as shocked to hear the news as Kelly had been. “Business is
that
bad?”

“Worse. I’m still trying to refinance a few things but the bank manager is being a prick, as usual, and I’m not holding my breath.”

“Anything we can do to help?” Pat asked.

“Not really. I hate to say it, but I think we’re screwed.”

“Maybe not,” Kelly said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. She hadn’t intended to bring this up tonight, and maybe not ever, but she hated to see the beaten-down look on Dan’s face and hear the shame and disappointment in his voice. He worked so hard and deserved better than what fate was giving him. Still, was it really going to help telling them the fantastical story her grandfather had told her earlier today? Was running off on a wild-goose chase going to help the situation out any? Probably not, and having false hope might even be worse than no hope at all.

“What do you mean by that?” Rich said.

Now what the hell was she going to say? She felt like a horse’s ass for not keeping her big mouth shut. “Shit! Okay…have a seat around the fire, guys. This is probably nuts, but I’ve got a story to tell you and it might take a while…”

Kelly told them everything she knew, from the city workers finding the dead suicide victim in the wall of the Paramount Theatre, to her grandfather’s confession about what the village elders of Miller’s Grove had supposedly
done to the town preacher back in 1936. She ended her story with the rumor of Joshua Miller’s hidden treasure and how there was a chance, if it had ever existed at all, that it might still be out there somewhere in the nearby Iowa woods.

Everyone was silent for a moment, chewing on what Kelly had said, not entirely sure she wasn’t yanking their chain and making the whole thing up. Dan evidently didn’t find her story amusing.

“Rich and I going bankrupt is hardly something to kid around about, Kel. I know you still hate me, but we’re in some serious shit. I thought you wanted to help?”

“What?” Kelly said, standing up and shaking her arms in front of her face to cut him off. “No, you got it all wrong. I don’t hate you…and I
am
trying to help. The story’s true. I swear it is.”

“Then how come we’ve never heard about any of it before?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard of Miller’s Grove, but none of this juicy shit,” Rich said. “Where is Miller’s Grove anyway? Sure as hell isn’t around here anywhere.”