Prologue
NINETY-NINE YEARS AGO…
Placing both pinky fingers in my mouth, I sharply whistled across the expanse of corn stalks. Rows of the grain stretched out all around me as far as the eye could see.
The high-pitched tone pierced the air, disturbing a few birds enough to prompt them into startled flight across the late afternoon sky.
Rays of the sun beat down on me, unforgiving and inescapable in the wide, open space. I removed my brimmed cap and wiped the sweat from my forehead with my tanned forearm. The cuff of my sleeve, rolled up to my elbow, was already soaked from the same action that had been repeated several times since the morning. Quickly, I raked my fingers through my damp locks of golden hair, then shoved my cap back on.
After giving Corbin a few minutes to respond to mycall, I grumbled to myself about his piss-poor timekeeping skills.
“I’m out here sweating my balls off, and he’s probably rolling around in the straw with Mrs. Miller’s granddaughter.”
I stopped and gave several more sharply impatient whistles.
Waited.
No response except the light rustling of the corn leaves as a breeze slithered through them.
An aggravated sigh escaped my lips as I turned and looked at the scarecrow tied to the cross frame to my left.
“What areyoulooking at?” I barked at the pathetic and lifeless decoration.
Also, no response. Go fucking figure.
I smacked a crisp corn leaf away from my arm as I continued heading to the edge of the field. If Corbin blew me off for a pair of pretty eyes, I might just strangle him for real this time.
It wasn’t like our tiny hometown of Falston was overflowing with occupants. Everybody knew everybody here, and that was the way we liked it. Living in such a rural area, we relied on one another to lend a helping hand where needed. Hell, the baker’s wife seemed to know when someone ran out of sugar before they did.
Emerging from the last row, I scanned the town’s central courtyard. Our first annual fall festival kicked off that night, and the setup had already begun.
“Good day, Bale!” The cordial voice of the mayor greeted me from the other end of the courtyard.
Placing my fingers to the brim of my cap, I tipped my head in greeting to him. “Afternoon, Mayor Polk!” I called back.
Approaching each other, we met in the middle of the courtyard. He clasped a hand on my shoulder with an oversized smile. “What do you think of the festival setup so far?” He gestured to all the volunteers bringing in crates of produce, flowers, and signage.
Politely, I smiled and nodded. “Looks like it will be a fine start to a tradition. Listen, you haven’t seen Corbin around anywhere, have you?”
Giving my shoulder a firm pat before releasing it, his fingers stroked his patchy beard beginning to show his age with the incoming flecks of silver.
“Hmm, I don’t believe I have. But if I do, I will be sure to let him know you’re looking for him.”
“I would appreciate that very much, Mr. Mayor. Thank you.” I flashed a charming grin.
Useless bastard.
He could tell you where his mistress was at any hour of the day, like he had some sort of dick-driven radar. But when it came to anybody else? Not a damn clue.
Approaching the primary street that ran through town, where all our shops were lined up, I grew more annoyed with Corbin’s absence. It was the last time I let him bum a smoke off me if he was going to ditch me on a day like today.
We always got together on November fourth, the day we had met as kids and decided we’d be best friends for life. Well, it was decidedafterwe had tried to pummel each other with apples plucked from his family’s apple trees.
His Grammy had given us both a stern talking to when she saw all the wasted fruit across the lawn. My ear still ached thinking about the way she had tugged on it and threatened to knock me into last century. But not before feeding me some homemade pie and telling me, “I won’t have you meeting your maker on an empty stomach, now sit down and make sure you clean off that plate.”
Needless to say, pie fixed everything.
Speaking of pie, my nostrils twitched at the scent of freshly baked pastries wafting from across the street.
