boys would have recognized it anywhere. Chrome mag wheels; big tires, shiny and black; the Thrush highpowered muffler sticker on the back window; a chrome blower sticking up through the hood like some spaceage coffee maker; an AC/DC bumper sticker, complete with a cannon and the slogan, for those about to rock; and the waxed, flawless body so dark that the viewer was left with the impression that it absorbed light. The paint was now dirty and sticky with sap, and some of the branches had left long scratches. Timmy leaned forward and peered through the driver's side window. Cassette tapes lay scattered on the seatRatt, Motorhead, Ozzy Osbourne, Dio, Dead Kennedy 's, Black Flag, Iron Maiden, Autograph, Suicidal Tendencies, and curiously out of place (in his opinion), Prince's Purple Rain.
A crumpled pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a pair of black sunglasses sat on the red vinyl dashboard. Empty beer cans littered the floor. Each one had been crushed. Timmy breathed through his mouth. This close to the car, the stench grew stronger. Doug pushed up beside him and peeked through as well.
'Why would Pat have a Prince tape?' he asked. 'I thought he was a metal head.'
'You like Prince,' Timmy reminded him.
'Yeah, but I'm not cool like Pat. What do you think his car's doing here?'
'I don't know, but it ain't good. Whoever put it here went through a lot of trouble to hide it.'
'Do you think he's okay?'
Timmy shrugged, then straightened up and looked around. 'I don' t see any sign of him. Or Karen. But look over there.' He pointed to another section of the forest where the undergrowth was sparse and the trees were spaced far apart.
'If you look carefully, you can see tire tracks going back up to Mr. Jones 's cornfield.'
'You remember the morning after Pat and Karen ran away, Barry was smoothing out tire tracks? They went off into the cornfield.'
'Yep. So somebody drove it from the cemetery to here.' Both of them heard the sound of buzzing flies.
Doug peered back inside the car. 'So maybe Pat and Karen were parking in the graveyard.
Somebody found them, did something to them, and then hid the car here.'
'Could be,' Timmy said, 'or maybe they hid the car so people wouldn't find it, and then walked out.'
'You don't really believe that, do you?'
'No,' Timmy admitted, remembering the circling carrion birds. 'There' s no way Pat would have ever left his car behind. He loved this thing. But a good detective considers all possibilities before coming to conclusions. That 's what the world's greatest detective would do.'
Doug seemed puzzled. 'Who's the world's greatest detective? Sherlock Holmes?'
'No, you idiot. It's Batman.'
Doug wiped the window with his sleeve. 'Well, I don' t think they ran away. Ronny, Jason, and Steve. That lady on the news this morning.
Now we find Pat and Karen 's car? I think it all adds up.' Timmy didn't reply. Secretly, he was thinking about Katie Moore, wondering how she'd react to this news regarding her sister' s disappearance. He walked around the car, studying it, looking for clues. The smell got stronger as he neared the abandoned Nova 's rear. The buzzing flies grew louder.
'You think I'm wrong? You think Pat and Karen are alive, and that they really did run away together?'
Timmy staggered backward, his hand over his mouth.
'Timmy? What's wrong? What is it?'
Unable to speak, Timmy raised his hand and pointed. Doug hurried around to the back of the car, and gagged. They' d discovered the source of the stench. A thick, viscous liquid leaked from the trunk and pooled onto the forest floor, sticking to the leaves and pine needles. Maggots and other small insects wallowed in the slop. It was dark in color, and there were tiny bits of pink matter floating in it. The smell was incredibly strong, almost overpowering. Bloated, black flies swarmed over the trunk, crawling into the car through the same small crevice the slime was dripping out of. Whatever was inside had rotted to soup and was now spilling out of the trunk.
'No,' Timmy said. 'I don't think you're wrong. I think that's them. I think they're inside the trunk.'
Then he leaned over and threw up.
Chapter Ten
They fled from the woods, not bothering to mark their location so they could find the car again. The buzzards, still swooping around above the trees, would do that for them. Not wanting to risk encountering Mr. Smeltzer, they cut through the woods and followed Anson Road, avoiding the cemetery. Then they walked along the side of the road the whole way back to Timmy 's house. Timmy had puke on his shirt and jeans, and Doug's face was stark white.
They burst through the door, and at first, Elizabeth assumed that one of them had been injured. She flew out of the kitchen, where she' d been balancing the checkbook, her pulse racing. The boys weren ' t hurt, not physically at least. But they appeared absolutely terrified. At first, Timmy was too shocked to speak, and all Doug would say was, 'It was spilling out.'
He kept repeating it over and over, and each time he said it, Timmy looked like he was about to vomit.
When they finally calmed down and told her of their discovery, she immediately called Reverend Moore and informed him. Then she called the police. She was so upset and concerned for the boys that she didn 't even question what they were doing in the woods after having been forbidden to go that far just hours before. The township police arrived at the Golgotha Lutheran Church, and the boys were there to meet them, along with Timmy' s mother, Reverend Moore, Sylvia Moore, and Katie. Mr. Smeltzer, spying the adults with the boys and assuming they were there for what had happened earlier, made Barry go inside. Warily, he walked over to them as the police got out of their vehicles.
'I done told them boys several times not to be playing here. Even posted these signs. It ain't my fault what happened.'
'What in heaven's name are you talking about, Clark?' Reverend Moore frowned. 'The boys discovered something in the woods, on Luke Jones's property.'
'Oh.' He shut up after that. Timmy thought he would have been relieved, but instead, he seemed even more nervous than before. The township police walked over to the group.
Clark excused himself, saying he had to go wash up for lunch. Reverend Moore watched him go, and muttered, 'That's odd.' Soon after, the state police and a team of paramedics arrived on the scene. Then Timmy and Doug led the township officers, the state police, and the paramedics to the car. The boys were nervous, but their excitement at being involved in a police investigation at being the ones to discover the caroverrode all other emotions. Timmy was thrilled, and he found himself comparing the events to Tom Sawyer again. This was just like when Tom solved the mystery as to the whereabouts of escaped murderer Injun Joe.
First, they stopped in the cemetery, and the boys showed them where the tracks had originated. The investigators found remnants of tire tracks in Luke Jones' s cornfield, as well. Finally, the boys led them to the woods. The birds were still circling. Once they ' d arrived, the police sealed it off as a crime scene. They dusted the Nova for fingerprints, meticulously took photos of both the car and the surrounding area, and combed through the leaves and detritus on the forest floor for clues. Timmy and Doug watched with rapt attention, and basked in the reciprocal attention showered on them by the police.
Despite the morning ' s bad start, they were surprised to find themselves having fun. Then a bulky state trooper opened the trunk and the fun stopped. Pat Kemp's halfliquefied remains splashed out onto the ground, splattering across the trooper's boots. The man' s face turned white. Everyone else scrambled backward. The stench was revolting.
Doug screamed, and almost fainted. Timmy bit his thumb to keep from vomiting again. This was their hero. The cool older kid who was always willing to stop and talk to them, who treated them like little brothers, gave them advice on girls and bullies and turned them on to good music. The guy they ' d all wanted to be when they reached high school. The cool kid who smoked and drank and had the fastest car in town and was dating a fox like Karen Moore that cool kid was now a waxy, congealing, rancid stew of tissue and bone and squirming maggots.
A state police detective led the boys out of the woods, back to the edge of the cornfield, right next to the cemetery, where Timmy' s mother and the Moores had been interviewed by another officer while they were
