August Moon (16 page)

“You said you were
going to come to my place yesterday morning.” She wore a flowing bohemian cotton top over a pair of stretch pants that were earning their name. One sneeze from her and we’d all be covered in spandex.

“I’m sorry, Kennie.” I didn’t even have the guts to lie, and that had a lot to do with the three coffins lined up behind her. They were simple pine boxes on four legs that stood around two feet off the ground. The tops were closed. I preferred to imagine them empty. “What’s with the boxes?”

She placed her hands protectively on the one nearest her. “These
boxes
are pure money, but it’s too late for you to get in on it, so don’t even ask.”

“Get in on what?”

“The entrepreneurial deal I’ve been trying to offer you a cut of all week.”

My guess that she was selling penis enlargers was clearly off base. “Coffins have already been invented.”

“These aren’t just coffins. They’re coffin tables.” She moved aside and showed me the sign she had been blocking, outlining it with a Vanna White flourish.

Coffin Tables By Kennie©

Beautiful centerpiece while you’re alive, eternal resting place when you’ve gone on to the Next Place. Custom made to your specifications. Buy the one piece of furniture that never goes out of style.

Behind me, Weston coughed uncomfortably. The poor man had now been in close range with Battle Lake’s two most extreme women in less than an hour. He was probably going to get the bends. “The wood grain is very nice,” he offered.

Kennie smiled proudly. “I had a local carpenter make up these demo models. See the legs? They fold up when it’s time for you to be buried. We’re even offering a glass-topped one so you can fill it with potpourri or dried flowers, or magazines while it’s in your living room. Then, at your final viewing, your loved ones can polish the glass so everyone can see you as they say their farewells.”

I shivered despite the heat. “Who would put a coffin in their living room?”

“Not a coffin. A coffin table.”

“Who would put a coffin table in their living room?”

At that moment, Chief Gary Wohnt materialized out of the crowd. He had on his impenetrable sunglasses and was in uniform. “Kennie.”

“Chief Wohnt,” she said icily, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Do you have a license to sell those?”

The energy between them was flinty. Gary used to be Kennie’s number one supporter, and to have him embarrass her like this was painful to witness.

“They’re not for sale.”

Gary removed his pot of Carmex, frosted his lips, and stuffed it back into his chest pocket. “You’re not selling these?”

“Not right now.”

“You’ll get a license when and if you do decide to sell.” This was a statement, not a question, and I wanted to kick him in the knee for how he was treating Kennie, like she was a stranger. I wasn’t ever going to be the president of Kennie’s fan club, but she had grown on me. A little.

Kennie covered the four feet between them, slow and dangerous. “I am the mayor of this town. I follow the rules. I recommend you do the same. Mira, watch the coffins for me, please. I have a date that I can’t miss.”

If her words affected Gary, he didn’t show it. She turned and stormed away angrily, slipping on her high madras heels, but not slowing her pace. I turned back to Gary. “You didn’t have to be such a hardass.”

He trained his black-mirrored gaze to me, twisted his lip, thought better of it, and stalked off in the opposite direction from Kennie.

“What was that all about?” Weston pushed his glasses up his nose and stared wonderingly from the retreating Kennie to the retreating Gary.

“I’m not exactly sure, but you still look pretty warm. We better get you in the shade.”

“What about the coffin tables? Don’t you need to watch them?”

“Nah. Kennie just needed to save face. Nobody’s going to take three pine coffins with legs, particularly if they have her name on them.”

Weston grinned happily. “To the shade, then. Onward, Christian soldiers!”

The phrase struck me as odd. “You’re a religious man?”

“Oh, no. It’s just a figure of speech.”

I remembered the caped figure I had seen going into the New Millennium Church the other day. I wasn’t sure if all my run-ins with organized religion had made me paranoid or if Weston was suddenly sending off a weird vibe, but the night was young, the air was festive, and the shade of the woods to the east of the corn maze entrance looked mighty nice. “Gotcha. Looks like there’s a main path here. I’m pretty sure it leads down to the lake.” As far as I knew, Hershod’s owned the land the Festival was on and about ten acres of the woods, but their property stopped at the small and expensive lakeshore lots. I thought I remembered a public access down there, though.

“We could dangle our feet in the water!”

“I thought you were cold-blooded.”

“Usually, but I’m beginning to feel a little overheated.” Weston cut his eyes at me, and I purposely ignored the look.

“I’d like to keep my eye on the crowds,” I said, as I strode into the jungle-thick woods. “I love to people watch. How about right over here? I think I see a rock we could…” My words trailed off as I saw a naked white butt rear up on the other side of the large fieldstone. It was just a flash, but it looked wide and hairy. Then it flashed up again. And again.

“For the love of Pete!” Weston drew up behind me and clapped his hands. “There is a festival going on out there, and there are children not fifty feet away. Whoever is behind that rock better stop what they are doing, or I’ll come over and break it up myself.”

I, for one, wanted to see what sort of man was attached to that hairy ass before I made any threats, but I admired Weston’s forcefulness and wondered what reserve he had pulled it from. Regardless, it worked. There was some shuffling behind the riding lawnmower-sized rock, followed by fierce whispering. Then, two meaty hands appeared, followed by a meaty head and a meaty body. It was Tom, of Tom and Tina’s Taxidermy, and I felt the heat rise on my face. The last thing I wanted to do was catch those two going at it.

“Sorry. Guess we got a little carried away in the night air. You know how young love is.”

Young love? I saw a flash of blonde hair followed by a woman crawling away. The shade of the oak forest made it hard to make out the face, but I knew the Amazon body, even without its neon clothes and expensive jewelry. “Annika?”

She whipped her head around before dashing off deeper into the woods, toward the lake, clothes in hand, but that was enough. Tom had been boinking the new girl, which explained the disappearing cash from 4Ts. Either Annika was taking money to buy herself expensive jewelry and Tom was turning a blind eye, or Tom was taking money to buy her expensive jewelry, and probably more. The affair would also explain why Annika was coming in when it wasn’t her shift. I suddenly felt greasy. I knew what it was like to be cheated on, thanks to Bad Brad, and it was an awful feeling. “What are you doing?”

Tom chuckled ruefully. “Making a jackass of myself, apparently.”

“That wasn’t Tina.”

“Really? It’s so hard to see in these woods.” His bad joke had a dark edge.

“Weston, I think we should get back to the festival.”

He grabbed my arm protectively. “I agree. After you.” Weston kept his eyes on Tom until I was nearly out of the woods, and then he followed. “You know, this town is an odd place.”

We broke out of the thick woods and were immediately back in the world of family and fun. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“You know that guy?”

“I know who he is. His wife is a friend of mine, but that wasn’t his wife.”

“I see.”

I sighed. “Me too. I see too much. And I don’t know what I’m going to tell her.”

“You want my advice?”

I looked at Weston’s face, tall enough to block the sun from my eyes. His untamed flop of hair was over his glasses, which were sliding down his nose. “You know what? I really do.”

“Don’t tell her anything. Nobody wants to hear that they’re being cheated on.”

“You wouldn’t want to know if your wife was sleeping around on you?”

His eyes darkened for a moment, and I wondered if I had hit a nerve. I glanced at his left-hand ring finger—no ring, just like I thought. His eyes cleared so fast I decided I had imagined it. “I bet that guy’s wife already knows. If she wants to talk to you about it, she will.”

I thought back to Tina’s convincing me to spy on her store. Had she suspected Tom was cheating and used me to find out? Nah. Tina didn’t have a duplicitous bone in her body. “You might be right. I’ll have to think about it. You want to walk through the maze with me?”

He glanced around at the crowd we were in, bottlenecking the entrance. “Sure. It looks like we might have to wait awhile, though.”

He was right. There were over a hundred people forming a circle between us and the entrance, the sun baking their heads and shoulders. Behind them, tall green corn stalks stood as still as sentinels. “That’s odd that everyone is standing in a circle. Usually, people here are pretty good about making lines. Should we go see what’s going on in the middle?”

“I don’t know. I don’t do so well in crowds, and I’m still feeling warm.”

I shaded my eyes to glance up at Weston. He did look a little green around the gills. “Why don’t you wait over there, by the edge of the woods, and I’ll pop in here real quick. After I see what’s going on, I’ll grab us both a couple cold sodas and we can wait it out in the shade until there’s fewer people. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said gratefully.

I watched him wobble off into the sparse shade and hoped he wouldn’t stumble across any more forest-lovin’ locals. The crowd around me was drinking beer and laughing pleasantly, but the farther into the circle I pushed, the less drinking and joy there was. Also, many people were holding their masks instead of wearing them, and their faces were tight. The nearer to the center I got, the easier it was to make out the shouting that was holding everyone’s attention. I elbowed my way to the very front and was dismayed to see Robert and Naomi Meale holding court.

Robert was dressed starkly in a black button-down shirt and slacks, his dark shoes as shiny as a mirror. His 1970s shop-teacher glasses magnified his entire face and made his eyes big and ominous. One of his fists was pumping in the air, and the other was holding a sign that said, “No False Religions! The Time to Repent Is Now.” He had one foot resting on his wife’s wheelchair, as if she were a piece of furniture.

She was staring fiercely up at him, her thin hair tied back, her face free of makeup. She was also dressed in a dark top and had a lap quilt peppered with an autumn leaf design covering her from the waist down. They were as overdressed for the heat as Weston. There was no sign of Alicia.

“Leave this heathen festival and return to the waiting arms of God! He will provide!” Robert Meale thrust his sign into the air as he spoke, swiveling his head to make eye contact with the guilty faces surrounding him. I didn’t look away when his face lit on me. “‘Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour,’ says Peter! And I say to you, the devil is about at this Festival. Is he going to devour you?”

A shiver slid down my spine, giving me vertigo in the crowd and heat. I was distracted from my queasiness by a glimpse of a mousy-haired woman three back in the crowd. She looked like the rapturous woman I had seen staring at Naomi at the Creation Science Fair, the one I was sure was Naomi’s sister and Les’ lover, but when I threaded my way through the crowd, she had vanished. I pushed my way back to the front of the gathering to observe Pastor and Mrs. Meale.

Naomi was still watching her husband intensely, an inner light burning behind her eyes like a fever. On her left hand she wore the gaudy ring I had noticed when we first met, and from this angle, it looked like a cross, or maybe a crucifix, set on a band. Was it the same design as the strange necklaces Alicia and Sarah Ruth wore? I was jostled by the crowd before I could get close enough to verify the design. I made my way farther around, so Mrs. Meale was directly in front of me, and her husband was behind her. Unfortunately, I was on her right side, and she had put both her hands under the quilt. She stared hungrily up at her husband.