Secrets of Harmony Grove

by Mindy Starns Clark

  “Roger that,” she replied. “Now get yourself to safety.”

  Returning to the closet, I pulled its outer door tightly shut, wishing there was a way to lock it from the inside. Moving to the open panel, I sat, straddling the threshold of the hidden room, though why I found it less terrifying to sit like that than to commit to the room fully, I wasn’t sure. Maybe the smell was what had frightened me before, though this one certainly had a different odor than the hidden room over at the B and B. That had been musty and stale, like a basement that had been closed up for decades—like the rotting wood of a pier. This hidden room didn’t smell musty at all, though it did have other odors to it, hints of old fruit and dirty bathrooms.

  I told Liesl that help was on its way. She was standing at the bottom of the steps, trying to light a propane lamp.

  “But what is going on?” she whispered urgently in reply, glancing toward Emory. He was sitting in the nearest chair, rocking slightly, mumbling to himself.

  Cupping my hands around my mouth and hoping Emory wouldn’t hear, I whispered to Liesl that Burl was the one who killed Troy and now he was after me. Before she could even respond, I heard a loud crash from somewhere else in the house.

  Now I had no choice but to move inside. Quickly, I used both hands to pull the panel shut behind me. As it clicked into place, we were engulfed in darkness. Thinking I heard another noise out there, I pressed my ear to the panel and listened. Much to my dismay, it sounded like the closet door had swung open. Sure enough, I could hear that someone was there, right on the other side of the panel!

  Afraid that it might be Burl and that he was going to shoot through the door, I backed down the steps and crouched on the floor, pulling Liesl down with me, just in case, whispering an explanation to her as best I could. I hoped that Emory would stay put in his chair and not try to move around in the dark or, worse, go to open the door himself.

  I held my breath. We listened and waited. Suddenly there was a thump at the panel, followed by the sound of Burl’s voice.

  “Not the smartest choice you ever made,” he called loudly, chuckling. “If I knew about the diamonds, don’t you think I’d know about the hidden room too? Gosh, I even make use of it myself now and then, as I’m sure you’ll find out.”

  At his words, I felt like slapping myself on the forehead. Way to go, Sienna. Not the smartest choice indeed.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not coming in after you,” Burl continued. “I don’t need to. Just understand this: You’re not gettin’ out of there until those diamonds are in my hands. And trust me, you are definitely gonna want to get out of there.”

  I didn’t know what he meant, but I knew the prudent thing was to remain silent regardless.

  “Is that Burl?” Emory asked in a loud whisper.

  “Shhh,” I replied softly. “Stay where you are, Emory. He’s up to no good, but he’ll go away in a minute.”

  Except for more clunking in the closet, all was quiet for a long moment, as we waited to hear the sounds of sirens outside. This whole waiting scene was far too reminiscent of the other night beside the pool with Floyd and Troy.

  “He’s up to no good a lot of times,” Emory commented in the understatement of the year.

  Then we heard the rumble, a low, guttural sound that was like a cross between the staccato vibrato of a machine and the throaty growl of a monster. We could almost feel the vibrations as much as hear them.

  And they were coming from within this room.

  “What is that?” Liesl screamed.

  I told her to get that lantern lit. Heart pounding, all I knew for sure was that this was the noise that had preceded Troy’s death.

  “Emory, what is that sound?” I demanded. “Do you know? Does it have something to do with you?”

  “No, it’s not mine,” he said, “but I think I know what that is.”

  “What?”

  He was quiet for a moment and then from his own throat came an imitation of the rumble. He made the sound again, better that time, and in response came the real rumble from across the room.

  “I think that’s a cassowary,” he said in astonishment. “I’ve seen them on TV, but I never saw one for real.”

  A cassowary.

  The most dangerous bird in the world, one that was big and aggressive and capable of killing a grown man with a single kick.

  “Got it!” Liesl cried as the flame finally flared into life. Turning it up as high as it would go, she stood and held it out, illuminating every corner of the room.

  At the far wall, just standing there looking back at us, was one of the biggest birds I had ever seen. The size of an ostrich, it had shiny black feathers and a vivid blue and red neck. On its head was a solid ridge of what look like cartilage or bone, like a peaked helmet. Its scaly gray feet had three big toes, the middle one huge and elongated—five inches at least—with a thick black nail at the tip.

  Judging by the mess around it on the floor, the animal had been here for a few days. The stench of the room was a mixture of animal waste and old fruit.

  I had no doubt that this was the beast that had attacked Troy, and I said as much to Liesl and Emory now. Though I didn’t want to scare them, they needed to understand the seriousness of the threat.

  “You said there were two entrances to this room,” I whispered to Emory. “Where is the other entrance?”

  “Over there,” he replied, gesturing beyond the bird. “It goes up to the springhouse.”

  The springhouse. Of course. That was why Burl had been there the other day, doing all of that noisy construction. With cops and feds swarming all over the property, he needed to be on hand in case the cassowary he had stashed underground starting making rumbles and ended up giving its presence away.

  “The supplies,” I said, gesturing toward the boxes that were piled in the center of the room. “We can build a wall with the boxes of supplies. Just don’t make any sudden moves.”

  Slowly and quietly, the three of us began stacking the boxes around us like a fence. All we had to do was hold off the animal for a short while and then help would arrive.

  But there weren’t enough boxes for our plan to work. As I frantically looked at the pile, trying to figure out how we could make it wider or higher, I heard a new sound coming from the bird, one that sounded sort of like a sneeze.

  “Uh oh,” Emory said.

  “Is it sick?” Liesl asked.

  “No. That’s the sound it makes before it starts to charge,” Emory replied.

  Looking at my uncle and cousin, I knew that I had done this, had done it to both of them, had brought them here.

  It was my job to protect them now.

  I glanced around frantically, hoping to find something that I could use as protection from the bird, a pipe or a stick. Spotting a broom behind me, I grabbed it and raised it up over my shoulder like a baseball bat, moving forward. The thing was, as I stood there facing off with this massive, beautiful bird, I realized that even if it attacked me I wasn’t sure that I could bring myself to strike back.

  It wasn’t its fault that it was trapped down here or that we had come upon it this way. It didn’t deserve to be hurt by me, not even in the name of self-protection. It snorted again, and shifted its weight, and my mind raced, praying for help to get here soon, for my family to be protected from this powerful beast.

  “We could go up,” Emory said from behind me. “Cassowaries can jump but they can’t fly.”

  I thought he was just speaking hypothetically, but when I looked at him I saw that he was pointing toward a huge oil tank on the side of the room, one that was mounted on a raised platform. Looking at it, I decided there was probably enough space between the top of that tank and the ceiling for us to squeeze in to safety. And if cassowaries couldn’t fly, the creature would have no way to get up there to hurt us.

  “Get up there!” I cried. “Use the boxes! Stack them like stairs! Go!”

  Liesl and Emory did as I directed, shifting the boxes and using
them to half-climb, half-pull their way on top of the tank. Emory was taller, so first he helped Liesl. She climbed up and was making room for him when the cassowary finally made its move.

  Wham!

  Slamming into my chest, the bird’s feet knocked the wind out of me, sending me skittering across the room, landing on my bottom. Gasping as I tried to catch my breath, I looked down at my chest, expecting to see blood. There was none. It had gotten in a good punch but no cut. Getting to my feet, I immediately went into my boxer’s stance, knees bent, arms raised, trying to breathe, knowing that I was no match for this beast but hoping that at the very least it wouldn’t kill me.

  From what I could remember of Mike’s timeline, on Wednesday night when I had called 911 from the pool area, the emergency response time had been about nine minutes. It stood to reason that the timing would be similar here. If four or five minutes had already passed since I called, that meant I only needed to hold my own for about that many more. Trying not to picture the gash in Troy’s thigh, I braced myself for what I feared would be the longest four or five minutes of my life.

  Across the room, Emory tried making the rumble sound of the cassowary again, this time from atop the tank, but the creature was no longer interested in anything except getting in another kick at me.

  “Please don’t hurt it,” Emory called to me.

  “Sienna!” Liesl cried. “Come on, climb up here with us!”

  “Had enough yet?” Burl yelled through the door at the top of the steps.

  “I can’t help you, Burl!” I yelled. “I don’t know where the diamonds are! I don’t!”

  “Troy told Nina they were buried at the base of something called the Fishing Tree. You must know what that is!”

  Wham!

  The bird hit me again, but this time I saw it coming and was able to sidestep and deflect most of the blow. What I didn’t expect was a second, follow-up kick, which again sent me sprawling in the other direction. This time, however, I didn’t land on the cold, hard floor but on something softer and cushier. Afraid to take my eyes off of the charging bird even for an instant, I took the risk, glancing down to see that whatever it was, it was soft and puffy and black.

  Getting to my feet, I pulled it up and held it in front of me for protection, realizing as I did that it was protection, that what I was holding up was a padded suit of some kind, like a goalie outfit for a really brutal hockey team. I wasn’t in a position to suit up fully, but even just slipping my arms through the sleeves made a world of difference. Thus protected, I was able to deflect far more blows than I caught.

  “Sienna!” Liesl cried. “Look where you are!”

  Turning, I realized that I had made it across the room to the springhouse entrance. Backing up the steps, I pushed at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Burl must have stacked his heavy toolbox and other equipment against the opening on the other side as an added measure of protection.

  Turning back toward the room, I saw the bird charging toward me at full speed, but it was too late for me to do anything about it. I screamed, curling into a ball right there on the steps, praying the end would come quickly.

  Suddenly, the other door burst open and a flash of fire erupted into the room.

  Just before the bird leapt for its final blow, it was hit. It faltered, staggering once and then righted itself and came to a stop. Wobbling unsteadily, it finally collapsed into a seated position. There it remained, blinking its eyes, head bobbing slightly, looking very much like a fellow who’d simply had a little too much to drink, one in a vivid red and blue scarf.

  Heart pounding, I looked across the room to see the authorities spilling in through the doorway. After securing the animal, some of them helped Emory and Liesl get down from the tank, while others came over to tend to me, telling me that I would be okay, that an ambulance was on the way. Only then did I realize I was bleeding in several different places on my arms and legs. None of the cuts were anything like Troy’s, though they hurt pretty bad, nonetheless.

  Handing over the black padding, I realized that at least we had solved the mystery of the Michelin Man. What Floyd and Nina had seen by the pool that night was a glimpse of the cassowary followed by the sight of Burl in his protective suit, shooting at them with the tranquilizer gun. No wonder they hadn’t understood what they were seeing.

  Soon the springhouse entrance was cleared from the other side, and we were able to move out onto the lawn. Despite my injuries, I immediately went looking for Heath. He wasn’t there; I was told he was already on his way to the hospital, as was Mike.

  I wanted to go after them, to be there when Heath awoke from the tranquilizer, but first they said I should be examined by the paramedics myself. Waiting beside an open ambulance as directed, I observed the throngs of officials who were once again descending on the scene. There were so many uniforms here that I was concerned for Emory, but right now he didn’t seem to be too worked up. Instead, it sounded as though he was being celebrated as a hero, with Liesl telling everyone that his quick thinking about climbing up on the tank had helped to save both of their lives.

  Watching my uncle’s grinning, innocent face, it suddenly struck me that he hadn’t killed those animals so many years ago. A far more likely scenario was that both the rabbit and the dog had been casualties of the Newtons’ gaming cocks, perhaps when they wandered too close and were unexpectedly attacked. I wasn’t sure if a really fierce rooster could kill a dog or not, but with a razor-sharp scythe strapped to each ankle, I had no doubt it could.

  As Liesl and Jonah were tearfully reunited, Emory came to stand next to me. I looked at him, thinking of how clearheaded and helpful he had been, and I told him so.

  “When you were younger and people said you hurt those animals, you didn’t really do it, did you?” I added.

  “I didn’t hurt Burl’s dog,” he replied.

  “What about the rabbit?”

  “I don’t know. I was in the woods, just playing, and I found it. Then all of a sudden Burl was there, saying, ‘Look at what you did, Emory. Just look at what you did!’ So I guess I did, and I just didn’t remember.”

  I looked out at the black night, at the swarm of law enforcement officers, at the sight of Burl being put into a police car and driven away.

  “Burl was lying, Emory,” I said, shaking my head sadly, ashamed even at myself for doubting this gentle man who could never hurt a soul.

  “Is that why the police are taking him away?”

  “Yep. Also because he killed Troy, and I think he did a lot of other bad things too.”

  Emory nodded, thinking about that.

  “What was he saying in there about the Fishing Tree?” he asked. “I hope he didn’t hurt it. The birds love all those worms.”

  Startled, I turned to my uncle, his face the very picture of innocence.

  “You know which tree is the Fishing Tree?” I asked incredulously.

  “Sure,” he replied. “It’s the Southern Catawba. Everybody knows that. Some people call ’em ‘fishing trees’ or ‘fish bait trees.’ That’s because they attract worms.”

  “And there’s one of those in the grove?” I asked, a grin spreading across my face.

  “Sure is,” he replied. “Hey, maybe when you’re better and your cuts and everything have healed, I can show it to you.”

  Shaking my head in wonder, I replied that I would like that very much.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Once they finally evaluated me, the paramedics said that two of my cuts were deep enough to need stitches. So after I made sure Liesl was okay and Emory was all set and I was free to leave the scene, I accepted Georgia’s offer of a ride to the hospital. We went in her patrol car, and the whole way to Lancaster I was so exhausted and punchy that I was tempted to reach out and flip on the lights and siren, just for fun. Good thing I wasn’t a cop myself or I might end up terrorizing entire neighborhoods.

  As we neared the hospital, I realized that she wasn’t just making casual conversation, she was
trying to find out how I felt about Mike. From the way she talked, it was obvious she had a lot of respect for the man, both personally and professionally, and she didn’t want to see him get hurt. I appreciated her candor and was honest in return, telling her that while Mike was certainly a catch, he wasn’t the one for me. I had decided I wouldn’t be pursuing any relationship with him except friendship.

  “Fair enough,” she replied as we reached the hospital and turned in. After pulling up to the door of the emergency room and coming to a stop, she added, “If you end up sticking around, maybe you and I could be friends too.”

  I smiled, agreeing, saying how much I would like that.

  But all through registration and treatment, and even as an intern deadened the cut on my knee and began to sew it up, I kept thinking about one thing Georgia had just said: If you end up sticking around.

  That was exactly what I had been thinking about doing.

  In my whole life, I had never thought of Lancaster County as a place I might live. It had been my father’s childhood home and a great place to visit during my own childhood, but I had always considered myself to be a city girl at heart.

  Yet if I had learned anything over the past few days, it was that maybe the city wasn’t the best place for me after all. That had nothing to do with Philadelphia itself and everything to do with me, with my competitive nature, with my tendencies toward ambition and material wealth, and that ever-present need for excitement that any city would feed.

  Those were the elements that had led me to Troy in the first place, that had brought me down a number of paths I probably shouldn’t have gone down. Now, after all that had happened here, I had to wonder if I ought to start over again in this place where I already had family and friends and the accountability those people would bring.

  Of course, that would mean having to quit my job at Buzz, but I had a feeling that was one resignation I wouldn’t mind turning in at all. At least my skills and experience in advertising wouldn’t go to waste. I could simply channel them differently, focusing on the marketing and running of my very own inn.