Harvest Moon (Buck Valley Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  Harvest Moon

  Buck Valley Mysteries Vol. 2

  Joshua Erik Rossi

  Copyright © 2020 Joshua Erik Rossi

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Joshua Erik Rossi

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Harvest Moon

  Joshua Erik Rossi

  Chapter 1

  Listen. When I was young and I lived on the mountain, Ma said don’t go near the river at night. She said bad things happen down there. I thought she was trying to keep me from having fun, so I went anyway. I stole a bottle of Pa’s moonshine, stuck it under my jacket and I met Steve by the Indian Rock.

  I sat with Steve Lark by the river bank. We built a small fire, and we drank that shine Pa made. We heard a moaning sound, but I figured it was an animal or something. I wasn’t scared of anything back then, except Pa. Besides, I was enjoying my time alone with Steve. I didn’t want anything to ruin it. We saw a light dancing through the trees and we heard a big splash.

  “Somebody got thrown in.” Steve froze staring at the blackness of the river rushing by us.

  “Those are just stories.”

  “What was it then?”

  “A fish or something. I don’t know. Don’t worry about it.” I put my arm around him. I could do this in the dark when nobody else was around. “Don’t be scared. We’re okay.”

  “What if it’s true? What if they kill people by this river?” He was nervous. I felt him shiver. He pressed closer to me.

  “I’ll protect you.”

  “Did you bring a gun?”

  “No. I stole the shine. Isn’t that enough?”

  “What are you going to do, share your Pa’s moonshine with a killer?”

  I laughed. “Maybe. Everybody likes Pa’s shine.”

  “You’re crazy,” he said.

  He didn’t mean it as an insult. I know he didn’t, but everybody knew the Keegan’s were crazy. People have been afraid of my Pa since before I was born. Wicked stories were told about him. After living with him, I know they weren’t just stories.

  I left home because I didn’t want to die. He came close to killing me, but I walked away from him breathing, broken and bleeding. That happened a few months after Steve and I met at the river.

  Years later, I’m laying in bed. Alone. The air is cool, and I still can’t sleep. The breeze comes down from the mountain. My curtains lift and suspend in mid-air, like ghosts. It was a night just like this one when I stumbled into town and limped down Oak Street. Old Tom was sitting by his window when he saw me. He came downstairs and unlocked the door to his diner. He let me come inside.

  Old Tom’s been gone for years now. He fell asleep one night and never woke up. I’m living in his apartment, and I run the diner, but I swear on nights like this, I can feel his spirit in this room. I know he’s here. He’s telling me, never mind your Pa. Sometimes he just ain’t right in the head. There’s nothing wrong with you. The problem is with him.

  I never knew whether I could believe that or not. That’s why I can’t sleep. My Pa, Old Man Keegan, who rarely came to town, was in my diner that morning. He brought Ma and my brother Casey with him. For a moment I forgot what Old Tom said. I wanted to believe my family had come to see me. I thought, after six long years, maybe they wanted to see me running the diner I now own. I’d made something of myself. I should have known better.

  They came to see Steve and me. They didn’t seem shocked at all when he came from his salon next door, carrying a pair of his sharpest scissors. Steve had seen what Pa was capable of. He didn’t trust him at all.

  I got up from the bed and went to the window. The trees were almost bare. The Harvest Moon shone on the river, the water glistened, churning past the boulders. The Shawnee Indians used to say there is a spirit in the water that moves the river. I didn’t want to see any spirits, in the water or otherwise.

  Old Man Keegan came down from the mountain to tell me he’d seen a body by the river. He doesn’t know who it is or how they got there, but he thought Steve and I should know before anyone tells the police chief, Bobby Ryker. Pa thinks Ryker and his boys have been killing people and tossing them into that river for a long time. He’s not the only one who’s heard this story.

  His reasoning was, he couldn’t go to the police, and because Steve and I found out who killed Jimmy Hamilton, he thought we could investigate the corpse he found.

  It was close to the very last thing I ever wanted to do. The last thing I wanted was to be a regular part of the Keegan family business.

  Pa broke my arm and my nose when I left home. I was bloody. My clothes were torn. Old Tom took me in. He was kind. He said I didn’t have to go back there, ever.

  Pa would do anything to prove the law is corrupt. He’d take a bath, dress in nice clothes and come to town. He’d come into my diner and sit in a booth, with Ma and Casey. “I want you to find out about that body and get rid of it.”

  “I’m not an investigator, Pa. I cook hamburgers.”

  “You took care of the last one.”

  I glanced at my mother. She gave me the ‘don’t you say a word’ look.

  Truth was, she was the one who got rid of the killer. I shot at the man’s tires. I couldn’t kill him. Ma says I have the heart of a fawn. Pa calls it weak.

  Either way, I didn’t want to deal with a dead man. So, I left the guy out there on the river bank. What is one more day?

  They ate their breakfast and left, assuming I’d automatically say yes. I mean, who in their right mind would say no to Pa twice?

  “Are we going to do it?” Steve asked. He’d come to like being an amateur sleuth. He was also fond of the idea that we were hanging out together again and I wasn’t complaining about it.

  “What? Nooo!”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t find it at all suspicious that my pa is the one who found a dead guy?”

  He was following me around the diner, but he stopped as soon as I said that and he went back over to his hair salon. I’d given him something to think about. Was Pa using us to get rid of somebody he killed?

  Someday soon, I hoped to have a full nights sleep. I got up and went downstairs to make coffee. If anybody in Buck Valley could outright kill someone, it was my pa, Edgar Keegan. The idea sent Steve back to his shop, but I knew Pa hadn’t killed the guy. He wouldn’t tell anyone, and he’d feed the hogs. They eat everything.

  Chapter 2

  Steve came in through the back door of my diner and he startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I should have known he’d come back.

  “You said before if a Keegan ever killed somebody, nobody would find the body.”

  I
grasped the edge of the sink, leaning forward. I’d been doing the dishes. I was tired. I should hire someone, but I didn’t want to start any rumors. People in Buck Valley talk about everything and most of the time, they get it all wrong. If I hired someone, they’d be a target for gossip and it wouldn’t be their fault. Besides, no one in this town wants to work with a Keegan.

  Steve moved in closer to me. “Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s wrong? Bad day?”

  “I hardly got any sleep last night. I guess it was stupid of me to think they were coming to see me.”

  “No, it’s not stupid. I mean, that’s what I thought.”

  “Really?” I took the rag and tossed it into the bag with the others. I untied my apron. “If you came over to talk me into investigating another murder…”

  “No, I won’t talk you into it. If you don’t want to, I’m sure you have your reasons.”

  “I do.”

  “Are you going to call Ryker then?”

  “I haven’t thought about it.” I was trying to forget the conversation ever took place.

  “Somebody should. If we’re not going to do anything about it.”

  “What can we do?” I asked.

  “Somebody is dead, probably murdered. We should find the real killer. Your father has a point.”

  “Oh really? Since when do you ever side with my pa?”

  “Those stories about the cops in this town have been circulating ever since Bobby became the police chief. When his dad was in charge, we didn’t hear anything.”

  “We were in Middle School.”

  “Still,” he insisted. “You know what I mean.” He lowered his voice to a hush. “What if Bobby is getting rid of people? Who in this town would have the balls to do anything about it?”

  I sighed. He was leaning closer to me now. He smelled really good. He had the advantage of working in a hair salon. Steve was fashionable and wearing a nice cologne. I smelled like onions and probably the milk that soured in the fridge before I could get to it.

  “We should check it out,” he said.

  “I don’t want to see a dead body.”

  “I’ll do the investigating, just come with me. You don’t have to look at it.” He paused and went on when I didn’t answer. “Or are you going to continue avoiding me?”

  “Steve…”

  “Ok. I get it.” He started for the door.

  “Why do you always do that?”

  “What?”

  “You don’t give me a chance to speak.”

  “Were you going to?”

  “Yes. I like to think about things first, that’s all. I haven’t been avoiding you.”

  He pulled out his phone. “I must have missed your calls and texts. Oh, wait. No, I didn’t. There aren’t any. After my foot healed, you disappeared. I invited you to come over, sit in the garden, swim? Relax?”

  “I’ve been busy here.”

  He came back and stood directly in front of me. “Busy?”

  “Yeah! The place was packed today.”

  “You kissed me. In fact, you kissed me a few times after we had solved that case. What was that? Uncontrolled excitement?”

  I smirked. “Something like that, yeah.” He was agitated. Not a hair out of place, but he was upset.

  “You did the same thing years ago. What happened? Did someone say something to you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why haven’t you said a word to me? It’s been weeks...I...I don’t understand you, Seth.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. A day in this diner feels like five minutes.”

  “You should hire someone.”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to have that discussion. “You really want to go to see the dead guy?”

  “I’d rather go out with you tonight, but if seeing the dead man buys me a couple of hours of your time, I’ll take it.”

  I wondered why he hadn’t given up on me. I would have. “I’ll go, but I’m not getting close to it. I don’t sleep as it is.”

  “Did Old Man Keegan tell you exactly where it’s at?”

  “Yeah. It’s by Indian Rock.”

  “Well, we’ve been there before.” He sighed. “Seth, if you’re not interested, just tell me. I can take it. It’s just that...I thought you were.”

  “I am. I’m not rejecting you. Honest.”

  “Good,” he said. “What else do you have to do? I’ll help you close.”

  “Take the garbage out, sweep and mop the floor,” I said, “but you don’t have to do anything. I’ll get it.”

  “I want to help you. I’ll sweep and mop.”

  “Fine, and thanks. I know you already closed your place.”

  “The salon is easier. You really should get someone…”

  “I know. I know.” I handed him a broom and went to collect the garbage. While I was doing that, I was watching him and I think he knew it. He’d look over at me and grin every now and then. I’d missed him. I wanted to call him, and I really wanted to visit him in his garden. I’d pick up the phone, but every time, I chickened out.

  We finished up. I turned off the lights and locked the door. As soon as we stepped out onto the street, it felt like heads turned. They were waiting. What was going on? Why had my pa come to visit? Why were Steve and I together? I’m not paranoid. This is life in a small town. I knew what they were thinking. “We’ll take my truck. You don’t want mud on your car.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he agreed.

  “Your car is nice, but it’s not practical around here.”

  “Can you see me driving a truck?” he asked.

  I laughed. “No, not really.”

  We got in and closed the doors.

  “I thought you’d at least come over and let me cut your hair,” he said.

  “It is getting a little shaggy.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Skip the dog groomer and come to me. I’ll take care of you.”

  “When? We have the same hours.”

  “I’ll stay open late.”

  I laughed again. “Yeah. Like people won’t talk about that.”

  “Let them talk, honey. What do we care? We risked our lives for this town.”

  “You have a point.” I turned off Oak Street and headed for the river. “I haven’t been back here in a while.” The trees were larger, and the paved road turned to mud.

  “I haven’t either.”

  “No?”

  “My mind is scarred with memories of a lost love. I avoid it.”

  I smirked. “Right, but I’m not lost. I’m right here.”

  He looked at me, but he didn’t say anything. He turned his face away. I think there was another eye roll, but I couldn’t see it. I turned again and the muddy road narrowed. It wasn’t like trucks never came back here, they did. Aside from gossiping, the local town youth had a few other pastimes, partying and muddin’. I stepped on the brakes.

  Steve looked at me again. “What’s the matter?”

  “What if it’s a kid? I didn’t ask pa. He said it was a body. He didn’t specify…”

  “I’ll look. You drive. You can stay in the truck if you want to.”

  I scowled. “I’m not staying in the truck. When did you get so brave, anyhow?”

  “When I was in the Intensive Care Unit.”

  “Huh?”

  “After I got jumped and beat up in the city. I had a lot of healing to do. I lay there thinking about the kind of person I wanted to be when I left the hospital. It changed me.”

  “I noticed.” I stepped on the gas and the truck bounced over the rocky path and slid through the mud until we arrived at Indian Rock. Once upon a time, it was a beautiful place. There were large flat rocks to sunbathe on, a small waterfall and a lot of shade trees in the summer. Over time, kids discovered spray paint and the rocks were marked with graffiti. It made me sad to see it. Aside from the large rock that looked like an Indians face, it was the last place Native people were seen in our area befor
e settlers chased them off, or killed them. During the summer months it was a great place to party, but no one came back here in October and they never came here at night. That’s how I knew Steve and I could spend time back here when we were in high school. We’d spent a lot of time by that rock.

  Steve walked ahead of me. It was like he’d almost forgotten why we were there. “I haven’t been here since I came home…” He stopped suddenly. He put a hand up. He was staring at something or someone on the ground. “Stay there,” he said. He lifted the front of his shirt to cover his nose and mouth. The smell reached me, and I turned away.

  “Who is it?” I asked. “Anybody we know?”

  “Hard to say,” he called back. “He’s face down. His head and chest are in the water. The rest of him is on the bank. It’s not a kid.”

  I looked over my shoulder. He crouched down to get closer. He was going to turn him over. “Jesus H. Christ,” I muttered. Stevie had definitely changed, or he’d lost his mind. In high school they called him a girly-boy because of his long blond hair and the nickname Stevie was given to him by a few football players. He kept the name and the long hair, and he was quiet, soft spoken and shy. Not anymore. Now, he was turning over a dead body. Whoever jumped him in the city really messed him up. I couldn’t stand the thought of him doing it, and I was thirty feet away. “Well?”

  “I think it’s Mr. Reynolds.”

  “The history teacher?”

  “Yeah. He’s been in the water a while. I’m looking for a wallet.”

  “You don’t have to tell me everything.” I cringed and paused. “If pa found him, the wallet’s not in his pocket. Look on the ground. It’s probably under a bush or something.”

  “Found it. No money…”

  “Big surprise,” I said, quietly. Pa would take anything valuable. That wasn’t a mystery.

  “It’s him. What the hell was he doing back here?”

  “His tests always sucked. Maybe one of the kids finally got even.”

  “We’re looking for a real maniac this time,” he said, coming through the bushes, holding the wallet.