Chapter 1
Harmony Jackson Amid the scuttle of the small real estate office owned by her father, within the drone of an anemic copier and light gossip between Dad and the secretary, tucked into the occasional purr of traffic on State Road 85, Harmony found herself home. And that, she decided, was a pretty good place to be. Dressed in her favorite combo--brown hair tied in a high ponytail on the top of her pale head, skinny jeans with Converse shoes on her feet, a graphic tee (today's pick: A mashup of Pokémon and coffee flavors, with the caption "Gotta Catch 'Em All" beneath the panoply of caffeine), and a flannel jacket to stave off the firm fall frost of central Utah--she stood just inside the doors to Roman Real Estate, LLC and drew in her first breath of "the office". There was a tang of stale coffee--something she had never really noticed as a kid, since it was the only kind of coffee that they kept in a pot in the break room--and the ozone-scent of the copier. Warm dust hung in the air and danced in streams of sunlight that slanted in from the east-facing windows. Dead bugs congregated on the aluminum windowsills like hymnals on a pew, desperate to escape but too confused by the high-tech human creation of glass. Bugs were everywhere in Noah--being a part of a rural community meant dealing with flies, mostly, large creatures that could get as large as Harmony's pinky fingernail, though there were a fair number of wasps, hornets, yellowjackets, and other demons-on-the-wing that made picnicking its own special kind of nightmare--so this didn't draw too much of her attention. From behind the reception desk--abandoned, as the day had just begun and no one was likely to have set up a nine-in-the-morning appointment anyway--she could hear the tight laugh of Marcie, the secretary. It hadn't changed in the past five years since Harmony had left. Why would it? Marcie had been secretarying for Dad since before Harmony could remember. No reason to switch over, no reason to change. Besides, Dad always said that Marcie was the only one who knew how to handle the billing software, which he had purchased in the late-nineties and hadn't bothered updating beyond a patch to avoid Y2K disasters. Harmony smiled at the thought. The nineties were a good time, so far as she was concerned. Granted, it might have been because she'd been a kid, but growing up in Noah had been its own blessing. Sure, it had been kind of hard to grow up an atheist in the predominantly Mormon community--or, as she'd lately heard, they preferred to be called "Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints", which she found to be a mouthful, but tried to accommodate her thinking for how others thought of themselves--but she'd always found solace in her friendship with Dane. He, also living outside of the Church's influence, had been the one that she could turn to whenever sanctimony and self-assurance overpowered an in-class conversation. Dane had always shown a philosophical bent, a way of taking the world and reinterpreting it in a way that was fresh and exciting--at least, so she'd thought when they'd been in the tenth grade. Thinking of Dane, however, drained her nostalgic smile. As if somehow sensing that Harmony needed the distraction, Marcie Rall strolled out into the small hallway that ran up from behind the desk, chatting over her shoulder. She turned, her round face illuminating when she caught sight of Harmony. "Marshal! You didn't tell me that Moni was coming today!" The contagious smile curled up her cheeks, which swallowed her eyes until nothing but dark crescent curves were visible. Her red-orange hair, now faded with silver streaks, flared in a puddle of sunlight as she waddled forward. Large, doughy arms wrapped around Harmony--who had to lean down to hug her friend, which she didn't remember having to do the last time she was here--and squeezed firmly. "Harmony Roman, you doll! Is that really you?" "A piece of her," she said with her own quick smile. "I don't even know what that means," said Marcie, her grin returning and banishing her brown eyes again. "Are you staying long?" Harmony shook her head. "Probably not too long. Just here for the holiday, you know." Marcie's face folded in a frown of confusion. "But Thanksgiving isn't until next week." "Oh, a couple of my professors were leaving for their honeymoon, so I only had one class between now and next week, so I figured, may as well come home a bit early." Marcie's grin returned, which meant that Harmony's smile returned, too. "Well, that's the best news I've heard in a while. Especially since…" She didn't have to say anything else. Harmony felt the same way. It was one of the hardest parts of the fortuitous good timing that had put Harmony back home in Noah just in time for the Amleth funeral. Before Harmony could say anything, Dad called from the back, "Marcie, are you sure that the Northern Way file is in here? I'm looking…" Dad rounded the corner and then stopped. "Harmony! What a surprise! I wasn't expecting you until this evening!" "Yeah, I decided to get up early, you know. I'm kind of becoming a bit of an early bird, if you can believe it." She laughed, though it was more because she couldn't think of any other way to end her sentence. "Give me a hug, girl!" Dad opened his arms, which Harmony expertly folded herself into. When she looked at him, she could see where she got many of her features (he was half-Korean, which meant, in her case, she shared his eyes and dark hair, as well as her chin), and a prototype for what she probably would have looked like had she been a boy. And, though she loved her dad, she was glad that the "Roman curse" of premature hair loss wasn't one of the things that she had to deal with. His hugs were tight, perfunctory, and familiar. She loved them. Pulling back, she said, "I thought that maybe I could hang out with you--you know, help out around the office or whatever--until the…" She cleared her throat. "You know." "The funeral, yeah," he said, shaking his head. "I still can't believe it. Did you hear what happened?" "Not…not really," said Harmony. "I mean, it was on the news a bit--the only time I've heard Noah's name mentioned since I left was this past weekend. I mean, Dane Amleth, Sr. is kind of well known…" She shrugged. "Inasmuch as anyone from a farming community is well known, I guess." "Local news reports, mostly, yeah. There were a couple of small stories in the San Pete Chronicler, but that's no surprise." Dad gestured for her to follow, Marcie rolling after them while shaking her head in commiseration with his story. "I mean, hunting accidents happen all of the time." He shook his head. "So much for a 'well-regulated militia'." Marcie sniffed indignantly, and Dad flashed an expression of resigned capitulation to Harmony before saying, "The point is, Dane died and it's causing all sorts of confusion." Harmony tipped her head as she sat down around the Formica table in the spare office that made up their break room. Dad did almost all of the work in the office by himself while Marcie handled the scheduling and billing and secretarial work. As a result, there wasn't a lot of need for all of the rooms that the building housed. Insofar as Harmony could see, this was the best use of the room--even if the coffee was never properly made. (Secretly, Harmony guessed that it was because Marcie was LDS and thought it some sort of sin to learn how to brew a decent cup; torture would never prize out that confession of doubt about the amiable Marcie, however.) "What do you mean?" "Well, it has to do with the Northern Way Ranch looking at acquiring some more water rights…" He paused. "Look, it's real estate talk. You sure you want to get into the weeds?" "Not really, honestly," said Harmony with a smile. "I'm a liberal arts major for a reason, Dad." "Here's the easy version: Dane had been fighting Northern Way Ranch--you know, Tim Brahns' estate over in Delldale?" She nodded. Delldale was mostly a turkey farming town that a number of her friends had come from; the high school that served Delldale to the west, Noah, and Cove City to the south was located in Noah. Naturally, she'd grown up with friends and classmates in all three towns, and no one came from Delldale without having some connection to either Tim Brahns, Sr. or the Northern Way Ranch. "Right, so he died…" He drummed his fingers on the table, then glanced at Marcie. "What, five years ago?" "Four," she said. "It was the year of the election, remember?" "Oh, right, right." He shook his head. "Wore that stupid red hat every day up until the day he died." "Stupid?" asked Marcie, raising an eyebrow. Dad gave Harmony a pained expression. "Marcie and I have decided to stop discussing politics in the office." "Ah." "The point is, Tim Junior has taken over and is a lot more…um, shall we say, aggressive in how he takes care of the business." "I see." She knew that if she asked for details, Dad would give them to her. She wanted to steer away from that as cleanly as possible. Summaries, then: "So Dane Sr. was keeping Tim Jr. away from additional water rights and now that Dane Sr. is gone, Timmy is on the prowl?" Dad smiled. "Got it in one. I expect nothing less from my daughter." Harmony favored him with a smile that she only partially felt. She loved her dad a lot, and she loved the support he gave her. However, she could never quite shake the feeling that he too often fell into the stereotype of the overbearing-Asian-dad. It wasn't really the case, but it felt that way enough that she tried to keep her academic and personal victories on the casual side of confession. "So you've got a lot to do, I take it?" "Well, it's tricky. Both Dane and Northern Way are technically clients, so I've been trying to figure out a way to thread this needle in a way that doesn't lose me friends or face." He sighed. "It's also kind of crazy how fast this has happened: Dane and Clawson go out hunting, Dane dies, a couple of days later Tim Jr. is here and I'm suddenly in the middle of I can scarcely figure out. Clawson is demanding all sorts of things--" "Wait, Clawson? Who's that?" "Oh, uh." Dad flashed a look at Marcie, who took over for him. "He's Dane's brother. Younger brother, by a couple of years." "I haven't heard of him." "He lived up in Salt Lake up until just a year or two ago. He lived here in Noah on Elsinore Ranch--I mean, he is an Amleth--but left for Utah State University after graduating and never looked back. Until now, I suppose." "Oh, so he's taking over the ranch?" "Basically." Harmony frowned. "What about Dane Jr.?" Dad shrugged. "I think he's here now, but he didn't come up immediately. He's like you, you know, still in college. I mean, he's knee deep in his Master's program, 'cuz he had those AP classes and muscled through his Bachelor's without taking a gap year…" Harmony repressed the feelings of irritation at Dad's insinuation and again redirected the conversation. "So Dane isn't taking his dad's place?" "Doesn't look like it, no." She shook her head. "It's just so…sad." "No joke," said Dad. "Did you see the video?" asked Marcie, her eyes lighting up in a strange way as she leaned forward. "Video?" Dad sighed. "Clawson was there when Dane Sr. died." "Really?" "It was an accident. Clawson, it appears, is kind of like you, Harmony: He has a fascination with photography--it's his hobby. I heard he even studied it at USU for a bit." "Like me!" "Exactly. So, and this wouldn't surprise you, I think, he was actually recording the hunting trip with his GoPro." Harmony glanced from Marcie to her father. "We have footage of Dane's death?" "Well, almost. It's…" He paused. "It's kind of disturbing. Not graphic, really, but…" Pulling free his smartphone, he tapped the screen a couple of times, then flipped the phone to landscape mode and handed it over. Harmony watched the jerky footage with a mix of a critical eye and a morbid fascination. On the critical side, she noticed that Clawson had strapped the GoPro onto his chest, as the camera wasn't at eye-height (or higher, as camera-mounted GoPros were). The sound was the familiar thump-swish of fabric being too close to the microphone. Ahead of Clawson was Dane Sr. He was like his son, with brown shaggy hair and a thinness to his shoulders that bordered on slouching. Much of that posture was lost beneath the layers of camouflage jackets--he wasn't wearing the bright-orange vest that he should have, she noted, and he, too, had the thin black straps of a chest-mounted GoPro--and he moved with a deliberate pause that made her think he had seen something. Sure enough, he put a hand up, stopping Clawson. The Amleth brothers approached slowly, as if stalking something. A moment later, in the midst of shouting from Clawson, the camera started to spasm and swing about, the images blurring. A loud couple of pops--someone's rifle, or maybe it was a pistol, it wasn't clear--burst out of the tinny speakers of her dad's phone. Some more shouts, swirls, and footage of the treetops, their naked fingers reaching toward the twilit sky. Gasps and groans were audible, but nothing on the screen changed, as if the camera were pointing skyward. A jerk, then Clawson was over his brother's body. "Dane! Dane!" His shrieks were enough to make the speakers crackle. The GoPro's lens soaked up an image of Dane Sr.'s shocked and pain-filled eyes. Blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth. "Don't talk, Dane," said Clawson, his voice panicked and shrill. "Oh, God. Oh, no. Dane!" A ragged hole was visible in the middle of the camouflaged jacket, the blood spreading out from it in a steady, irregular circle. "Dane! Don't die on me!" The video stopped, the small "Watch Again" option popping up, indecorously morbid. "My gosh," said Harmony, her LDS-ese clicking into place and, out of deference to Marcie's presence, avoiding her more natural expression. "Dad, what happened?" "Clawson admits that he pulled the trigger. A bear, he says, came out of the woods just then. It's hard to see, exactly when it happens, but Clawson claims that he had tried to take a shot of the animal to try to protect Dane. The bullet hit his brother instead." Dad shook his head. "Sheriff Madsen investigated the whole thing. Said it was a tragedy but that there's no reason to assume foul play." "It's…horrible!" "I know." Harmony shook her head. "I can't believe it." "Well, it's what happened, from what we can tell." "Man." Harmony felt hollowed out, terrified, even. "How has the family taken it?" "About as well as you could expect," Marcie said, daubing her eyes. "In other words, poorly." Dad took back the phone. "Pretty much. I don't know about Dane. As I said, he's been away. I think he'll be at the funeral." "And Jenny?" "Heartbroken. As you'd expect." Harmony shook her head. She had fond memories of going to Elsinore Ranch on the weekends and watching movies on Dane Jr.'s large-screen projector. Momma Amleth--as she'd referred to Jenny back then--was good at navigating the giving-you-space-to-have-fun and overbearing-mother-who-wants-to-keep-her-cub-safe dichotomy. "This is…" "Yeah…" She sat for a moment, then frowned, her mind flipping through what she'd just seen. "Can I watch that again?" she asked, reaching out for the phone. "Uh, sure." Dad sounded confused but complied. Harmony watched it a couple more times, frowning as she did so. Occasionally, she'd touch a slender finger to the scrubber and move the video about. After a couple of minutes of this, Dad asked, "What are you doing?" "Did they ever find the other video?" she asked. Dad shook his head. "Excuse me?" "From the other GoPro." She looked from Marcie to Dad, frowning at their confused looks. Her stomach flopped at their expressions. "What are you talking about, Moni?" Marcie had balled up the tissue she'd used to blot her eyes into a tight knot, her fingers tight. "They didn't talk about that." "Yeah, there's nothing else. That's all." "But…" Harmony swallowed, a dread fear rising inside of her. "Right. Okay." "What are you talking about?" "Nothing," she said, handing the phone back. "I think I was misunderstanding something, but I'm sure it was nothing." "Really?" "Yeah." She bobbed her head in what she hoped was an emphatic dismissal. "It's all good." Her dad cocked his head to one side, suspicious. "What do you mean, Harmony? It's okay to tell me." "No, if the sheriff looked into it, then that's it. I was mistaken." He stared for a long moment. "Look," she said, standing up and forcing a smile onto her face. "It's great to see you again, Marcie. I'm going to go home and change. The funeral is at--" "Eleven," supplied Dad, who was clearly not fooled by her sudden denials. "Great. I'm going to get ready. I'll see you at the funeral home at eleven, yes? Mom'll be there? Okay. Good. Kay…bye…" Harmony walked out of the office, her mind swirling with suspicions and disbelief. Had she really seen what she thought she'd seen? Was something rotten in the Amleth family? And, most importantly, should she do something about it? The warm feelings of nostalgia she'd enjoyed upon walking into Roman Real Estate, LLC. had run cold. A metallic taste of disappointment sat heavy on her tongue as she rolled the different questions about in her mind. Before she finished the short drive home to surprise her mother with her early arrival, Harmony had decided: She needed to tell Dane Jr. what she suspected. |