Helens-of-Troy (15 page)

“I’ll see what I can do, Fuckwad.” He
turned to Tom. “I have no time for that asshole.”

“Maybe you should just cool it, Ryan,”
Tom said. “People are looking at you like you’re
psychotic.”

“People always look at like I’m
psychotic.”

“Yeah, well you calling him that ... it
just makes him more psycho. It’s like you two are in some demented
ping-pong game. You know he wants to smash the ball down your
throat, so you call him a name, just so he’ll lose his edge for a
second.”

“Exactly. My serve,” Ryan
smirked.

“Why don’t you give it a rest? Just
walk away from him.”

“Maybe I keep him amused. Maybe he’s so
fucking bored with his own sorry life that I keep him from shooting
himself in the head,” Ryan said, unnecessarily loudly.

“You’re a hopped up loser, Lachey,”
Wildman sneered. “They ought to test you for hyper-steroids before
they sign you to any college team.”

Mrs. Lachey walked towards Ralph. “You
say anything else about my boy, and I’ll have you up for slander.”
She turned to her son. “Shut the hell up, Ryan.”

“Ryan, shut up,” Roy Cohen agreed, then
added, “Ralph, shut-up. Betty, shut-up. We don’t need any
accusations flying around. This isn’t a vigilante force. It’s a
search party. We need facts. Think, Ryan. Did you see which way she
went?”

“I don’t know. Tom and I were watching
Stan n' Kev, so I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to
her.”

“That’s what you say now,” Ralph
said.

Chief Cohen looked directly at him.
“Not that it is any concern of yours, but I can confirm that Ryan,
and Tom here, had an alibi that night. I was with them at Helena’s
until well after eleven. So don’t go there, Ralph. We’ve got to all
work together. I need everyone to get into groups. I’ll give each
of you a photocopy of this map of the town. Each one has a
different highlighted area. That’s your territory. I need you to go
there and look around. Look in the alleys. Look in the trash bins.
Knock on every door. Make sure everyone in Troy sees the picture of
Brooke. Come back here as soon as you've cleared your area. Groups
of two, no more than three, please. I don’t want anyone going
alone, but we don’t want to spread ourselves too thin. There’s a
lot of ground to cover.”

Ryan stepped forward and took a map
from Roy Cohen and motioned for Ellie to come over. “Tom and I’ll
take Goth-Chic over there as our number three. You're on your own,
Wildman.”

Standing alone in a crowd, Tara Wildman
looked at Ryan with fire burning beneath her eyes. He may as well
have been talking about her, not her father, with that last remark.
How dare Ryan take the new girl along with Tom, when he knew damn
well she was here, wanting to spend the day with him. Things were
not going as she had planned ever since this new Goth-Slut had
moved into Troy. Ryan and this new girl were getting far to cozy
for her liking.

Ralph Wildman moved within inches of
Ryan’s face. “You're trouble, Lachey. You've got an un-natural
preoccupation with any girl that isn't your own age. I don’t know
how you did it, but I’d put money on the line saying you did
it.”

“Yeah. And you've got an unnatural
preoccupation with jerkin' your right hand. It is what it is,
Wildman. Did you hear what the Chief said? I have an
alibi.”

“Where were you before and after, boy?
That’s what I want to know.” He turned to Ellie and pointed his
tobacco stained finger at her. “I’d think twice before I went
anywhere with him, missy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. That boy
ain’t right.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The map that Ryan received had an area
on the outskirts of town highlighted in yellow, indicating the
streets they were to travel to get to their destination. The
twenty-minute walk from the town hall would take the three of them
out past the new subdivision and down a dirt road to the abandoned
gravel pit.

“Could you have picked a map that takes
us any further away?” Tom asked.

“We could take my car,” Ryan offered.
“I have to go back to the school and get it anyway.”

“I think the idea is to look along the
way,” Ellie reminded him. “The car would kind of defeat the
purpose.”

“Don’t get lippy with me, Goth-Chic,”
he teased. “I don’t think I pinky swore to secrecy last night.” He
leaned over and gave her air kisses.

“Keep it up and I’ll start giving you a
reason to sing a hurtin’ song,” Ellie threatened, looking sternly
at him.

Ryan howled in laughter. “Is that your
poker face, Goth-Chic? You could make me some money, Loser.” He
flashed a finger “L” in front of her face. “Ellie’s got a royal
blush,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“What the hell is up with you two?” Tom
asked. “You’re giggling like a couple of girls.” He eyed the two of
them suspiciously. Something had passed between them last night.
Something he wasn’t a part of.

“Me’n’Goth were just talking,” Ryan
shrugged, sensing he was crossing the line with Tom. Why should Tom
care, he wondered? Unless Tom had a hard-on for Ellie. That would
figure. Tom always went after the new girl in town. It had been the
same with Jacey.

Ryan grew quiet and avoided Tom’s gaze
as they continued down the road.

Their silence gave Ellie plenty of time
to re-think what that evil girl had said. Evil-Girl. If she was
destined to be Goth-Chic, Tara Wildman would forever be Evil-Girl
in Ellie’s eyes. Evil-Girl and her Psycho-Dad. The whole hyphenated
family. Maybe the Wildman’s hated everybody. Maybe they hated the
whole-wide-world. Maybe it wasn’t personal after all.

“Where’s Jacey?” Ellie asked. She was
trying to come to terms with the fact that if Tom and Ryan were
destined to be her new best friends forever, then she was going to
have to get used to the Jacey-Creature, like it or not.

“I don’t know,” Tom said. “She probably
broke a nail or something and is waiting for elective surgery.
How’s your stomach?”

“My stomach?”

“From last night. Are you feeling okay
now?” he asked. “We looked for you after the game and your Mom said
you left early.”

“Yes, thanks.” Ellie had forgotten all
about the little excuse she had come up with to leave quickly. “I’m
probably just getting used to the water here in Troy. The water is
softer. I have a delicate stomach. And my head was pounding. How’s
your shoulder, Ryan?”

“He’s fine,” Tom answered.

“She asked me. And it’s still sore. I
can’t fully extend of my arm yet.”

“You can throw a pass if you want to,”
Tom snapped, moving ahead of Ryan and Ellie.

“Glad you’re feeling better, Goth. I
get the Jacey flu from time to time myself,” Ryan confessed, giving
Ellie a nod.

“What’s wrong with Jacey?” Tom asked,
turning around and facing them.

“Nothing,” Ryan said. “That’s the
problem.”

Ellie laughed. Either Ryan knew of
hidden flaws in the girl that she would pry out of him later, or
her perfection bugged the crap out of him too. Either way, she
couldn’t help but smile.

“Then let’s get off the Jacey subject,”
Tom said irritably.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan said. “Anything to
get you to morph back into Mr. Personality.”

“What’s up with him?” Ellie asked Ryan.
All the guessing going around in her head was starting to drive her
mental. “Do we need to take him to a chic-flick so he can
cry?”

“Some people are put out, some people
are not putting out,” Ryan answered. “Troy’s a town full of Trojans
with no place to go.”

“Will you shut up, Ryan?” Tom begged.
He turned and looked at Ellie.

She could sense he wanted to say
something but couldn’t. “What?” Ellie asked. “What’s wrong? If she
doesn’t want to hang around me, you can tell me. Tara didn’t seem
to have a problem telling me.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Tom tried
to explain. “Jacey says she likes you. And Tara Wildman is as loony
as her old man. Don’t pay any attention to her.”

“Leave Tara out of this,” Ryan warned
Tom. “Tara hasn’t done anything to you or Jacey.”

“I don’t know if Jacey’d
agree.”

Ellie stepped between them. “Okay,
okay...let’s play nice. Tell me the truth. Why didn’t Jacey want to
come, Tom?” she asked.

“Look… I didn’t want to say anything,
but you guys just won’t let it drop. Jacey’s not mad at me and
she’s not mad at Ellie. Okay, she’s kind of mad at me, but that’s
got nothing to do with it. She said she didn’t want to come today
in case we found a dead body.” He paused. “Happy?”

Ellie and Ryan gave each other looks
that started off as fear and changed to disgust.

“Ew!” Ellie gasped.

“What did you say that for?” Ryan
asked.

“That’s what she said. You wanted to
know. Now you know.”

“Cohen didn’t tell us to look for a
dead body,” Ryan said. “That would change things. Big time. He gets
paid for that kind of shit, we don’t.” He looked at Ellie. “We
should have taken the car so we can get the hell out of there if we
need to.”

“I don’t think she’s dead,” Ellie said.
“So don’t even go there.”

“How do you know?” Tom asked. “I hate
to break it to you but there is that possibility.”

“I’m operating under the assumption
we’ve had our quota of dead bodies this week,” Ellie offered
uneasily. “Let me see the map, Ryan. I don’t know north from south
in this town yet.”

Ryan handed it to her. “I’m not an
expert on these things or anything, but we’re supposed to go search
the gravel yard.” He pointed to a spot on the map Ellie was
holding. “There, at the end of the yellow line. That’s the yard.
Tom’s right, there are definite dead body possibilities
there.”

“Gravel yards. They’re right up there
with cement factories,” Tom explained.

“We are not going to find a dead body,”
Ellie insisted. Brooke hadn’t been dead in her dream, but she
couldn’t tell them that. “Trust me.”

“Seriously, Ellie,” Ryan said
pensively. “What happens if we do find her, you know, hanging from
a tree with her skipping rope around her neck or something? Do we
cut her down? Do we leave her hanging there? What do we
do?”

Ellie had no answer for him.

“You almost sound excited,” Tom noted.
“Maybe Wildman’s right about you.”

“With Old Man Wagner,” Ryan continued,
ignoring Tom, “I only had to pull the blanket back up over his
face. He was ready to be taken away. Stiff, but ready. Touching a
dead little girl would be...”

“Do you have to be so graphic?” Ellie
asked, cutting him off. She looked to Tom for help.

“You’re lucky you missed the summer
camp stories with him when we were kids,” Tom told her. “I still
have nightmares from the ghost stories he made up. Especially the
one about the axe murderer.”

“It could happen,” Ryan insisted. “What
if...”

“Stop,” Tom interrupted. “Let’s say for
the sake of argument that we do find her, and she’s not happily
picking buttercups in a meadow. We’d have to take her pulse to see
if she’s alive or dead. That much I know for sure. Other than that,
we probably shouldn’t touch her. Cohen wouldn’t want us disturbing
the scene.”

“Quit talking like you’re going to be
conscious,” Ryan said testily. “I’ve seen you in a similar
situation and I can tell you now, you’ll be out cold and it’ll be
Goth-Chic and me taking care of ‘the scene’, Mr.
Dead-Man-Fainting.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You two are talking like your Trojans
are intimate,” Ellie said. “Kiss and make up already.”

“So you got that earlier reference?”
Ryan asked sheepishly.

“I’m not twelve, Ryan. I’m fifteen.
Jacey didn’t put out and Tom’s pissed off. Yes. I got that
reference.” She looked over at Tom who was avoiding her gaze. “Now
will you two knock it off and get serious about this?” She
hesitated. There was something she needed to know, but she was
unsure if this was the right time to ask. “Have you guys lived here
all your lives?”

“Yes,” Tom said. “Are you going to make
that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good. Do you know if there is a bridge
by this gravel yard we’re headed to?” She tried to look at the map
as she walked, but the motion was making her ill.

“No bridge. Why?” Tom
questioned.

“Just curious. Is that the yard at the
end of this road?”

“Destination dead body yard is indeed
in our sight,” Ryan said.

Ellie paused for a moment and looked at
the landscape. While they had left the residential area of town and
she could see farm pastures up ahead, the area didn’t bear any
resemblance to the location in her dream. As they reached the yard,
all she could see around her were piles of rock. No bridge. No
schoolhouse. Just rocks. She felt relieved and disappointed at the
same time.

“Watch your step,” Tom cautioned, as he
stomped over a ‘no trespassing’ sign. There was a hole in the wire
fence as big as a bulldozer. Gaining entry to the area was not
going to be a problem. “There’s rusted scrap all over the place.
Every one up on their tetanus? Be careful what you pick up. It
could be nasty.”