Chapter 5
Harmony Roman The sun kissed the rim of the valley, with long beams reaching out to stroke the eastern mountains. Low clouds--few in number but large--scuttled westward as Harmony slid through the last stop sign in front of her alma mater. This was a new addition--one of those rare impositions of the conservative--borderline libertarian--local government on the city, which she suspected only was installed because Sheriff Madsen lived at the far end of the street that intersected with this one. According to her dad, Sheriff Paul was tired of having to wait for a break in traffic during the morning rush, so he'd pressured the city council to install this stop sign. Now, with the sun filling her rearview mirror, Harmony knew the sign was, for all intents and purposes, optional. Once on the other side, she began the long trek up to Elsinore Ranch, driving up straight roads that kinked at ninety degrees wherever the boundaries of ranchers abutted the road itself. The drive was a familiar one--she'd been cruising here since before she had a license, sometimes taking an ATV from the city proper and into the foothills where some trails had been blazed--and she handled the ruts and potholes with confident ease. The day had passed quickly for her after the funeral; Dad had a lot of extra work for her to do, which normally she disliked, but now it was helpful just to have something to keep her mind off of what they were going to do tonight. In the backseat, a thick coat and a couple of Maglites the length of her arm bounced in time to the occasional dip in the road. She disliked the idea of going up into the mountains at night--not because of, say, a bear attack or anything like that--though Dane had seemed fixated on doing so now. At least, that was what she took from his texts; it could be hard to catch subtle tones with just a written message. Elsinore Ranch always seemed to jump out at her. The road would crest, turn, and then a copse of trees would thin out from view and there it would be. The Lodge--the main house where she'd spent countless weekends during high school, along with Ryan and George, watching movies, playing video games, and basically being teenagers--was the most impressive of the whole ranch. It sat in the middle of a three-quarter acre lot, surrounded by an ocean of well-manicured Kentucky bluegrass. The garden, sprawled out behind the house, had, for lack of a better word, an orchard along with rows upon rows of herbs and vegetables. It had been a paradise as a kid--endless places to roam and play around--especially during the dusty summers. Now, with the foliage in the grip of the fall, everything had a spooky, dead-fingers-of-trees vibe. Harmony eased her red Corolla into a parking space off to the side of the main driveway that led up to the Lodge, then keyed off the car. She sat for a moment, collecting her thoughts as the engine clicked and clattered to itself in the cool autumn air. Her suspicions were probably just paranoia, but now that she was almost ready to do what she had come here to do, she found herself wondering if this would work. Traipsing about in the dark to try to satisfy her curiosity? Why had she brought this up to Dane in the first place? It was stupid, it really was. And yet… There was something off about the video that did not sit well with her, and there was just enough missing about the abruptness of Jenny's sudden engagement that Harmony couldn't simply pass it off. It was dumb, yes, but not trying wasn't really an option, either. She wouldn't be able to focus on anything if she didn't at least try to get to the bottom of the problem. Sighing, she shouldered the door open, then pulled the supplies from the backseat. Smoothing her dark hair over the back of the woolen jacket, Harmony fingered her gloves on, then shoved the two Maglites into separate pockets. Blowing out a deep breath, she faced the house. All she had to do was get Dane, then head to… Her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She fished it out of the shallow pocket and, pulling one glove off with her teeth, swiped the green phone icon. "Yeah, Dane. What's up. I'm here." "I know," he said, his voice soft. "I'm not in the Lodge." She paused and looked around. "Where are you, then?" "On the butte." "Oh." "I left an ATV for you outside of the Barn. You remember the way up?" "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there in a few." Crunching her way up the driveway, she veered off to her right where the Barn sat. The Amleths didn't stable animals there; it was more of a workshop and warehouse. ATVs, a boat, and she didn't know how many cars and trucks were in there. Past the Barn was the guest house, which was connected to the Lodge by a single concrete path. From where she walked, she could barely see the edge of that building, which she'd never spent any time in. As she walked toward the camouflaged ATV (a black helmet resting on the seat let her know that this was the one Dane wanted her to use), she wondered what it must feel like to have so much money. For the life of her, Harmony couldn't see why the Amleths needed a home like this. She knew that much of the wealth came from Dane Sr.'s hard work, but also a lot of luck: Just before she'd started kindergarten with Dane Jr., the Amleths had sold off a parcel of land down in Iron County that happened to have plenty of natural gas, ready for extracting. They had leveraged that money into a prosperous business that was only rivaled--and that, in her opinion, poorly so--by the Northern Way Ranch in Delldale. Well, one day, maybe, she might know what it was like to not have to worry about money. Harmony picked up the helmet and, sliding her beanie into an inside pocket, she pulled the helmet on. The key already in the ignition, it took but a moment of recalling how to operate the four-wheeler. She rolled past the back of the Barn to the dirt trail that led out beyond the orchard. She kept the family cemetery--where they'd laid to rest Papa Dane, accompanied by tears and well-wishes and a stunned Dane Jr.--on her left, wound past the slight rise, then gunned the engine to climb up the steep grade that led to the overlook on the small butte on which she'd seen the sunset more times than she could count. The ride only took a few minutes, and she knew she was in the right place when she saw a second ATV parked in its familiar spot beneath a pine tree. Harmony left hers next to the other one, the helmet back on the seat, and followed the trail up to where Dane sat, arms hugging his knees, his body a dark silhouette against the final embers of the November twilight. "Hey," she said, not sure what else to say. She dropped herself next to him as she fished out her beanie and returned it to her head. "Hey." "You look cold." "Nah. I'm all right." She waited a moment. "Why are we up here?" He sighed. "I just…needed to think. You know, make sure I really want to do this." "I know what you mean." Dane shifted so he could look at her. "Do you?" She shrugged. "I mean, I guess. I'm not thrilled to be stomping through the forest at night, but I agree with you: If we're right, then we need to move quickly, and it's better if they don't know. If we're out at night, fewer people will know we're up there--" "No, that's not it." Harmony stalled. "Oh. Sorry, I just…" A slight swell of embarrassment crept through her. "No, I don't mean you're wrong. It's not what I was thinking about." "Oh?" The embarrassment faded, for which she was grateful. It was a pointless emotion; why would she be embarrassed around Dane? He was like a brother to her. They'd been through enough stupid-kid experiences together that there was almost nothing about him that she didn't understand on one level or another. "Do I really want to know the truth?" "Ah." She didn't add anything, letting Dane figure out his way toward what she now thought she saw. It was the best way, she'd found, to work with his way of thinking. Dane more often than not needed a sounding board, a confidant, rather than a conspirator. She was, as always, happy to help out. It was what friends were for, so far as she was concerned. "I mean…what do we hope to discover? The video is weird, yes, but…what's to be gained by doing this?" Harmony looked out over the empurpling landscape. From here, she could see the Lodge, its eyes yellow with the soft glow of habitation, towering over the trees and everything else. Hidden behind the orchard, the guest house. Other familiar landmarks, even in the gathering gloom, could be made out. It was peaceful. It wasn't perfect, no--there was a fresh grave in the graveyard below them, after all. But it was familiar. Comfortable. "I hear you," she said, nodding. "Why give up what you have? What's on the other side?" "Precisely." He smiled--a wistful, somewhat sad smile, but still…he smiled. With an inner jolt, she realized that, no matter what came, she'd have that smile to rely on, that memory of a moment before. Regardless of what they found in the woods, they were stepping into a world that couldn't coexist with the one they knew. She saw that in his face--he knew it, just as surely as she did. "I'm glad we're on the same page, then." "Of course." She jerked with her head in the direction of the mountain. "Shall we?" Before he could answer, a loud shout rippled up below them. The back door to the Lodge flung open wide, light and laughter spilling out from the house. Even at this distance, it was easy to see who was there: Sheriff Madsen, Clawson, and Jenny, all laughing, each with a drink in their hands. Music thudded as Clawson grabbed Jenny around the waist. She whooped a dismaying cry, which he cut off with a vigorous kiss. Paul laughed, though Harmony could only guess at that--distance and the music made it impossible to know for certain. "What is going on?" she asked. Then, realizing how dumb that sounded, added, "Beyond the obvious, I mean." She glanced at Dane, who was scowling at the trio on the patio. Whatever softness she had seen in his smile a moment ago was gone. She wondered when she might see it again. "It's a Chez Amleth tradition." "'Chez Amleth'?" Harmony repeated softly. Dane ignored the question. "Any time an Amleth gets engaged, that night there's a party--a big bender. 'Sending off the single man', Clawson would call it." "So, what…your cousins do this, too?" Dane shrugged. "Most of us. Even the Mormon ones will have a big celebration--mostly with Sprite. Mountain Dew if they're wicked." Harmony chuckled. Being in the religious (or, in her case, irreligious) minority in Noah was very much an exercise in being excluded. Still, they'd grown up in this tiny town: Both of them spoke LDS-ese fluently. And one of the first things that they'd learned about LDS-run parties was that the caffeinated beverages were the forbidden liquor of the religion. Harmony was fuzzy on the details, but it seemed like there was something about coffee, tea, and--by extension--caffeinated drinks that had rather divided her Mormon friends. She shook her heads. "I don't think they're drinking Mountain Dew down there." Dane snorted. "Not likely, no. Hey, let's keep going. I don't need to see them acting like this." Harmony nodded and stood, helping Dane up once she was stable herself. As they walked toward the ATVs, she said, "It's kind of surprising, though, isn't it?" "What is?" "Their party." "Why?" "I mean…your dad's funeral was today." She said it softly, as if to maintain some sort of reverence. A loud obscenity clapped their ears at the same time, destroying whatever effect she'd been going for. "Tradition can't be breached," he said with a shrug. That movement, though, didn't fool Harmony; it bothered him--probably on multiple levels. "Let's go. It's getting cold." He nodded at that. "Wanna ride double?" "I prefer to be in control," she said. "Okay. Keep up." She jumped onto her ATV, flicked the engine on, and rolled the beast backwards. A few minutes later, both of them were on the trail, buzzing through the forest at a steady clip. Dane knew this area intimately; even in the darkness, he didn't hesitate or get lost. They arrived at Forked Creek fifteen minutes later. A small clearing--large enough to comfortably park the two ATVs--sprang off the main path, which they took before dismounting. The moon glinted through the pine needles, illuminating the leave-strewn path. The constant hiss of the creek filled the air. It was too cold for bugs to be singing, but the forest still managed to give Harmony the impression that it was fully alive, watching them, tracking them. She shivered and pulled her coat about her tighter. "Here," she said, handing over one of the Maglites. She clicked on her own, sending a beam straight into the crisscross of branches above them. Dane did the same. "It seemed," he said, pointing in the direction of the creek, "that they were near a boulder that I used to play on down there." As they worked their way over the twig-and-undergrowth-choked landscape, Harmony felt her heart hammer just a touch harder than usual. Her breath frosted in front of the beam every time she brought the Maglite closer to her face. Her nose started to run. The chill of the night seemed to press down on her, sharp and angry. "It's cold," Dane said, as if she couldn't tell on her own. "What were they hunting?" she asked, desperate for some conversation to keep her mind off the replays of horror movies she'd watched--some, even, down at Elsinore Lodge--where two idiot kids got lost and slaughtered in the forest. The further they walked, the harder it was to keep images of hockey-mask-wearing psychos out of her mind. Talking, she felt, might cure that. "What'd you say?" "Your dad. And uncle. What were they hunting?" "Um…" Dane paused, both to think and to get his bearings, it seemed. "Elk? Maybe? That's a bit late. Possibly bobcat." He shook his head. "Deer season ends in October, so it wasn't that." Off to her side, she heard a rustle in the bushes. A slight shriek snuck out of her as she jolted hard enough to almost fall over. Heart in her mouth, she spun toward the sound, focusing the beam on the hash of shadows that grew and shrunk with the movement of the flashlight. A beady eye was visible, staring at them both with an impassive curiosity that only an unconcerned wild animal could muster. "Or wild turkeys," said Dane with a laugh. He gestured at what she had square in the light. "Like that one." He gave her a pat on the back and tromped onward. Harmony took a moment to swear at the bird and calm her heartrate before she caught up with Dane. An hour later and they were still stomping through the underbrush, desperate to find anything even remotely close to what Harmony had seen in the video. In fact, she'd pulled out her phone twice to refresh their memories. Each time, Dane seemed to think that he knew where it was. Each time, he was wrong. Feet frozen, nose a near constant faucet, and having been spooked by three other nightly denizens of the forest (though one was actually just a log that had been shaped like a bear--that one had really gotten Dane laughing), Harmony was ready to return. The fire she'd felt in her car--the warm car, the one with a fully functioning heater--had dwindled. So what if they didn't find anything? The police had looked into it--or, rather, Sheriff Madsen had (she'd learned that much during her time away from Dane earlier that day). If there was anything suspicious, they would have-- "Here!" Dane's shout was farther away than she'd anticipated. She hadn't realized that they were drifting so far apart from each other. "Where are you?" "Here!" Marco Poloing her way forward, Harmony at last found Dane. He was lying on the ground, his Maglite pointed up, underlighting the base of the trees. "What are you doing?" asked Harmony, her patience frayed. In response, Dane said, "Pull up that video again." Sighing, she obliged him. He watched the video for a moment, then nodded. "Yup. This is it. See the boulder over there? I knew I recognized it." Standing up, he sniffed and pointed to a spot a few feet away. "I think it was there." "I don't see anything out here," said Harmony, her voice soft. Her skin prickled at her own observation. "What do you mean?" "Like, where's the plastic tape? The footsteps of all of the investigators." She gestured at the ground. Sure, it was beaten down, but most of the area seemed underused, especially considering what had happened here only a few days before. "I don't see anything to show that…like, there are some steps over here." She gestured with her light. "And I think those are the marks from where they tried to haul the body on a trolley. Otherwise…" "No, you're right," said Dane, each word accompanied by a puff of white. He cast about, watching the ground with an intensity that Harmony found almost alarming. He stomped one way, then another, constantly plying the ground with the blue-white light of his flashlight. Harmony joined him, her mouth dry. Now that they'd found the place, she wondered if they could discover anything. The darkness felt absolute--the moon had covered herself with gray-black clouds, and the stars had gone with her--and save their pitiful Maglites, there wasn't much chance they could find anything. Dane suddenly cried out and dropped to the ground. For the fifth time that evening, Harmony nearly leaped out of her coat in fright. "Look at this!" Dane held up something in his right hand, which was gloveless, stiff, red, and cold-looking. Harmony stared, uncomprehendingly, at the strip of nylon strap, dusty and dirty, haloed in the Maglite's harsh beam. One end looked like it had been cut, as it was frayed in a straight, poofy line. "What is it?" "Look closely." She took it from him, squinting. It took a moment of shifting her hand so that she could read the writing on the strip without the shadows of her fingers getting in the way. "GoPro…so this is official--" "Flip it over." Harmony obeyed, and a chill that had nothing to do with the weather swept over her. A white tag, sewn into the strap, curled beneath her nearly-numb fingers. Harmony swallowed hard, wishing that she wasn't about to see what she feared she might. Pulling the tag straight, she read two letters: D.A. |