by Mae Clair
Gabriel’s resting place may have been violated, but she’d make certain he wasn’t forgotten. She only prayed that with his physical remains no longer entombed, his protection would hold firm for those buried in the cemetery and their descendants.
The steady whirr of a motor reached her as she trudged up the hill leading to the chapel. Blizzard loped ahead, pausing now and again to snuffle among the weeds before trotting forward. A white Ford F-350 was parked at the top of the hill, a flatbed trailer hitched to the back. There was rarely anyone in the cemetery when Jillian visited, and certainly no one that would be doing anything of a mechanical nature as the drone of the motor seemed to indicate.
“Come on, Blizzard.” Breaking into a jog, she rounded the corner of the church, heading for Gabriel’s burial plot. She’d only run a short distance before tugging sharply on the husky’s leash and coming to a dead stop.
A bald man she didn’t recognize used an open tractor with a front-end bucket to dump dirt into Gabriel’s grave. Judging by the mounds of soil clumped under the old hickory tree, the man hadn’t been there long. The city had probably hired him to fill in the hole, considering it a liability.
“No—you can’t.” She jerked forward, attempting to flag down the worker. The chances of Gabriel’s remains being returned to his proper resting place were almost nil if the hole was filled in. If his bones did resurface, he’d likely be buried elsewhere, something she couldn’t allow.
“Sir!” She waved her arm, but he worked with his back to her, hard earmuffs wrapped around his head to deaden the rumble of the tractor. She watched as he jerked the machine forward, maneuvering the wide bucket to scoop up another heaping mound of earth. Sensing her anxiety, Blizzard started barking.
Between the husky’s loud yap and the drone of machinery, Jillian barely heard the soft, distant toll of a bell. A second later, an ear-splitting crack shattered the air. The abruptness of the noise drove her back a step, her gaze sweeping to the ancient hickory.
The gargantuan tree split down the center, the left side folding like a matchstick under the massive load of branches. The top hung suspended for a quicksilver flicker, then plummeted with the speed of a guillotine, crashing onto the bald man.
“No! No, no!” A scream tore from her throat as she raced to help.
The tractor’s engine cut out, and in the heavy weight of sudden silence, Jillian was confronted by a tangle of broken branches and bloodied flesh. A single look told her the poor man had not survived, his neck twisted at a grisly angle, eyes open and staring as if he couldn’t perceive what had gone wrong.
Fighting tears, she dug her cell phone from her pocket. Her fingers trembled as she punched out three numbers she’d hoped to never use.
The dispatcher answered on the second ring. “Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”
“Please come quick. There’s been a terrible accident.”
* * * *
Monday was not as bad as Elliott feared. Finn gave him a wide berth, and while Rodney and Troy took potshots with snide remarks, their need for revenge seemed to have run its course. Either that or the wishstone in his pocket—as he’d come to think of the gem—was helping. It had protected him from the monsters when he was trapped in the cemetery, and he was convinced it had something to do with Rodney and Troy leaving him alone.
Once or twice he tried to wish things into happening, without luck. He willed Mrs. Martinez to give them less math homework, but it seemed she piled on double. Later, he tried willing himself a place to sit at lunch, where he wouldn’t have to be alone and could hang out with some other kids, but no one invited him to their table and he was too shy to ask. He considered it a bonus when he made it through the day without getting bullied by his usual tormentors.
Feeling upbeat, he headed outside, past the buses and down the sidewalk to the crossing guard. He was still a few yards away when something slammed into his back and sent him sprawling into the grass.
“Watch where you’re walking, doofus.” Rodney Townsend faced away from him but glanced over his shoulder, a football in his hand as if he’d only just caught it.
Elliott picked himself up, backpack sliding from his shoulder, glasses askew. A couple kids on the sidewalk stopped to snicker. Others hung out open bus windows, laughing. Kids weren’t supposed to roughhouse on the sidewalk, toss balls or Frisbees, or even run, but there was no sense telling Rodney. Any more than pointing out Rodney had been the one to plow into him.
Elliott dusted loose grass from his knees and straightened his jacket. He kept his head down, not wanting to draw attention. Now that Rodney had shamed him, maybe he’d leave him alone. He stepped onto the sidewalk, but Rodney moved to block his path.
“Going somewhere?”
Troy sidled up behind his friend.
Elliott swallowed hard and glanced around, looking for a bus driver or anyone who might help. A couple of kids clustered up ahead, blocking the view to the crossing guard—or the guard’s view to Elliott. Cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck, and he dug his hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the wishstone. Rodney and Troy wouldn’t gang up on him here. Not so close to school. They couldn’t.
He tried to sidestep, and Rodney moved with him, cutting him off.
“Get out of the way,” someone snapped.
Elliott pivoted, shocked to find Finn Carrigan glaring at Rodney. He blinked, surprised the order hadn’t been directed at him. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t the only one Finn had given a wide berth today.
Rodney shrugged. “Just messing with him.” He seemed to deflate a notch. At least his voice dropped, no longer broadcast to everyone nearby. He tossed the football lightly, catching it before it could drop. “Your bus is at the other end of the line.”
“I know where my bus is.” Finn shouldered forward, bumping into Rodney to move him aside. The other boy grunted but gave way.
Troy snickered. “I think someone’s pissed.” He grabbed the football from Rodney. “Come on. Let’s go catch the bus. Camden’s not worth it, and Finn’s in one of his moods.”
Elliott was grateful when they trotted back the way they’d come. He looked ahead to where Finn had joined the group waiting for the crossing guard and ran to catch up. He made it just as traffic stopped and hustled to cross the street. Once on the other side, kids split left and right, Finn following the path Elliott normally took home. After a few blocks, he was the only one left walking in the same direction. Elliott lagged several paces behind. He was pretty sure Finn lived on the opposite side of town. When the other boy came to a side street and had to wait for the crossing guard to halt traffic, Elliott joined him on the curb.
“Um…thanks for helping me back there with Rodney and Troy.”
Finn stared ahead, watching as the guard moved into a break between cars. “They’re jerks.”
“I thought they were your friends.” Elliott fingered his glasses, bumping them higher on his nose.
“Things change.”
The guard motioned them forward, and they stepped into the street together. Elliott could just make out the top of Hickory Chapel looming above a knobby hill in the distance. The sight resurrected memories of his fall into the grave.
“I saw you in the cemetery when they hauled me out.” He remembered the police cars and the ambulance, Finn waiting grim-faced by the side of a squad car. He didn’t know how the cops had found him, only that he’d been crazy-grateful when an officer climbed down into the hole and hefted him up.
He wet his lips. “Did you…did you get in trouble?”
“What do you think?” Coming to an abrupt halt, Finn shot him an exasperated glance. “Look—we were stupid chasing you into the cemetery. It was a dumb thing to do, and Rodney and Troy were asses for wanting to leave you there. My uncle’s a cop. Things would have been a lot worse for me if I hadn’t called for help.”
<
br /> Surprise slammed into Elliott. “You…you were the one who called?” He never would have guessed. “Thanks. I thought I was done for when I fell into that hole.”
Looking mildly uncomfortable, Finn shrugged. He started walking again, and Elliott fell in beside him. The discomfort he’d felt earlier dialed down a notch.
Finn threw him a sideways glance. “You didn’t rat us out.”
Elliott shook his head. “How did you know?”
“My uncle. One of the other cops told him your story about how we were screwing around up there together. He thinks we’re all friends.”
Elliott surprised himself by snorting.
Finn laughed. “It is kinda funny when you think about it. Rodney and Troy—”
“You, too. I’m the new kid nobody likes.”
“You’re not so bad.” Eying him, Finn swiped a mop of black curls from his brow. He was several inches taller, making Elliott feel toadish by comparison. It wasn’t that he was heavy, just that Finn seemed to exude wiry energy and confidence. Elliott wished he could be so sure of himself. Maybe if he had thick wavy hair and vivid blue eyes like Finn. There were several girls in Elliott’s class who drew hearts in their notebooks, then scrawled Finn’s name inside with an arrow. He’d never be that lucky.
“You had a chance to land us in some serious shit and didn’t take it.” Adjusting his backpack, Finn glanced up the hillside as they drew abreast of Hickory Chapel. “Rodney and Troy are ticked because I called for help, but their crap is getting old.”
“Is that why you didn’t take the bus home?” Elliott was terrified to look toward the cemetery, the memory of being trapped in an open grave too fresh in his mind. From the corner of his eye, he spied a pickup truck with a flatbed trailer parked near the old church. The steady drone of an engine whined in the background.
Finn shook his head. “My uncle wants me to hang with one of the moms in our apartment building while he finishes his shift. But she’s got two preschoolers who are hellions, and I don’t need a damn babysitter.” The final word was spat with venom.
Elliott was going to ask about Finn’s parents when he remembered scuttlebutt from school. Finn’s dad wasn’t around—pretty much like Elliott’s—and his mom was in jail. Drugs or something. That had to suck.
Elliott sometimes stayed with his grandmother after school until his mom got home, but she was family and he didn’t mind. Having a babysitter would be mortifying.
He decided to change the subject. “How come you’re walking this way?”
“’Cause I figure I’m already in trouble. What’s a little more?” Stopping, Finn looked up the hill toward the cemetery. “I’ll call my uncle to come get me when his shift is done. Either that or take the bus home.”
Elliott stared, unable to imagine braving public transportation alone. He’d never have the guts, and his mom would throw a fit. He finally turned to gaze up at the cemetery.
“How come you stopped?”
Finn nodded toward the chapel. “I was thinking about that open grave. Someone had to dig it up.”
“So?”
“It was a lot of work. Why go to all that trouble?”
Elliott hadn’t thought about it. Why did anyone dig up a grave? To find what was hidden inside. He fingered the uncut emerald in his pocket. “Maybe they just wanted the bones of whoever was buried there.”
“Or were looking for something—like buried treasure.” A quick grin flashed over his lips. “I’m gonna check it out.” He started for the hillside, then glanced over his shoulder. “Wanna come?”
Elliott gaped, trying to process the idea Finn had invited him to tag along. He fought for something to say, but before he could speak, a loud boom ripped through the air. The shockwave boomeranged from his head to his feet, chased by the unmistakable sound of something heavy crashing to the ground. A woman’s high-pitched scream raised the hair on the back of his neck.
“Holy shit!” Finn bolted for the cemetery.
Swallowing his fear, Elliott raced after him.
* * * *
Finn was sure he was in deep shit. Not only did he skip riding the bus home, but he ended up in Hickory Chapel Cemetery amid uncontained chaos. The woman Elliott called Jillian had blocked their path to the heap of broken branches behind the chapel. He’d understood someone was buried under that tangled mass and the results weren’t good, but it wasn’t until his uncle arrived with several other cops, a firetruck, and an ambulance, that he realized the seriousness.
Jillian made a call to Elliott’s mother while the firemen worked with saws, cutting away branches to reach the man imprisoned underneath. Long moments passed, his uncle in the thick of things, coordinating between cops and paramedics. Finn heard shouts about a lack of vital signs, saw the deathly pallor of an arm jutting between yellowed leaves. The air reeked of fresh-cut wood and trampled hickory nuts. Someone made a call to the coroner, and he fought the urge to be sick.
His uncle pulled him aside, hugging him tightly and shielding his view as the body was removed. He expected to be sent home, but everyone was involved with something—cleaning up debris, talking to the ambulance attendants, roping off the area where the accident occurred, or keeping crowds away.
“Elliott!” A woman with curly dark hair ran up the hillside, a frantic expression on her face. A second later she engulfed Elliott, then bent, babbling questions close to his face. Finn overheard snatches. Was he hurt? Why was he in the cemetery again? What happened?
Random people began to throng at the base of the hill, watching from a distance, onlookers attracted by flashing lights and sirens. A man with his hair in a ponytail exited a big 4Runner a block down, then raced past the group, ignoring the orders of a uniformed cop to stay back. He beat a path to Elliott and the curly-haired woman.
Finn’s attention shifted to a guy in a brown bomber jacket. He hadn’t noticed him before, but somehow he’d managed to get past the cops, hovering on the opposite side of the fallen tree. Squat and broad-shouldered, he blended into the background. There was something in the way he watched the activity around the grave that raised flags in Finn’s head.
“Hey.” Noticing Elliott had wormed free, he caught his elbow and steered him from the adults. “See that guy over there?” He pointed to the man in the bomber jacket. “He shouldn’t be here.”
“How do you know?”
“Everyone else has a job to do. All he does is watch what’s going on like he’s calculating something.”
Elliott looked confused. He was probably still reeling from the idea that someone had died. Finn tried not to think about it. Dwelling on the guy in the brown jacket helped mute the ugliness of what had taken place. Later tonight, when he was alone, he’d mull the whole thing over. Better not to have an audience if he ended up hurling.
“I think he could be the guy who dug up the grave.” He was grasping at straws, but connecting imaginary dots gave him something to do. A part of him had always liked the idea of trying to think like a cop.
“He couldn’t have done it himself,” Elliott said.
Finn reconsidered the strange man. Good point. He was beefy and fit, but it would take a single guy too long to unearth all that dirt. He shrugged. “If he didn’t do it alone, I bet he helped.”
“Do you think he had anything to do with the tree?” Elliott looked green as he eyed the fat nest of branches.
Before Finn could answer, the man ducked behind the blind side of the chapel. “Hey, he’s leaving!” Seconds later, he rematerialized, tramping down the hill in the direction of the school. As far as Finn could tell, there were no cars around. “He must have walked here. Probably heard the sirens and hiked over.”
“That doesn’t mean he was the one who dug up the grave. He could have been curious about what happened.” Elliott looked pleased with himself for having arrived at a simple solution.
Maybe Finn was reading too much into things. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Finn!”
He was distracted when his uncle called and waved him over.
“Shit. Now I’m in trouble.” Sooner or later he knew he’d have to own up to why he’d disobeyed David’s orders to stay with Mrs. Foltz after school. Shooting Elliott a resigned glance, he hoofed over to his uncle.
David dropped a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m going to be tied up for a while. I’ve got no clue what you were doing here in the first place, but we’ll talk about that later. I’m going to have one of the uniformed officers drive you home. You can stay with Mrs. Foltz until my shift is over.”
Finn’s heart sank. “Uncle David, her kids are terrors.”
“Um…” Elliott sidled close. “I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind if Finn came home with us and stayed for dinner. Uh…we’ve got some math homework we could work on together.”
Finn tried to keep shock from his face. Had Elliott just saved his butt?
His uncle gave Elliott a swift, appraising glance. “You’re the boy who fell into the grave the other day. Elliott Camden.”
Elliott nodded.
Finn found his voice. “I told you we were friends.”
“You did.” Something about his uncle’s expression indicated he wasn’t convinced. “Let’s check with your mom, Elliott, then we’ll figure out what Finn’s going to do.”
Elliott pointed to the group of adults talking quietly among themselves. “That’s her. The lady in the red jacket with the black hair.”
As his uncle moved away in the direction Elliott indicated, Finn stepped to the other boy’s side. “I owe you.”
Color rose on Elliott’s cheeks. “You saved me from Rodney and Troy. Just returning the favor.”
“Maybe.” Finn eyed him openly. “Did you really mean that about staying for dinner?”
“Sure.” Elliott stuffed his hands in his pockets. “My mom makes great spaghetti and meatballs.”
* * * *
When Detective David Gregg introduced himself to Tessa, Jillian led Blizzard away. She’d been trying to find a way to speak with Sherre Lorquet ever since she arrived. To all appearances, the coroner had finished with his grim task, the body loaded into the ambulance for transport. The fire crew was still working in the background, trying to clean up the debris pile. Someone had righted the tractor and rolled it off to the side.
