Forbidden Ground (24 page)

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Authors: Karen Harper

BOOK: Forbidden Ground
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Grant muttered something she couldn’t make out. Was he going to turn on Brad for this attempt at mending bridges? Was he going to turn on her for quizzing Jason about that drawing? Here, she’d been ready to walk out on him, on this mound, and now its access had been made easier by Brad.

Truthfully, all she wanted to do was stay here, talk things out with Grant. Yet he still stood in the way of what she wanted most in life—or was
he
what she wanted most?

25

A
fter Brad left, Kate and Grant shared dinner and talked. He was trying hard to be careful what he said. For one thing, he felt bad he’d accused her of cutting down and hauling off the hawthorn trees. For another, now that the mound entrance was free of hindrances, he felt as if he was the only thing standing between Kate and the mound.

“Yes, that’s true,” he admitted after she brought up the ax head again. “Todd and I found that out behind the house. We were young—grade school—and, of course, thought it was cool—our secret.”

“You probably didn’t even know they were Adena at the time. When I’ve talked to groups of elementary kids about prehistoric lives, they can’t even grasp the time frame.”

He nodded, grateful she was trying to help him out. He was actually tempted for the first time to just come clean with her, tell her all of it, but Todd and Brad were involved, too. Sometimes he wished the two of them could sell their artifacts to ensure their shaky futures. When they took the things, they knew it was wrong, but not illegal. But they’d kept them for years, even after they did know the consequences. When Gabe got back in a few days, maybe he could handle this, finesse it, though Grant figured he’d say they had to hand everything over.

He took another long drink of wine that went well with the Chinese food Kate had brought. They’d already had a heated discussion when she wouldn’t take his money for the food, but they were both making a big effort to keep the talk civil now. Man, why did things have to be so complicated between them? He’d love to scrape all the layers of his lies away, just hold her and make love to her.

“Was Gabe in on this?” she asked.

“He was away then, and we never told him.”

“By
we,
you mean just you and Todd?”

“I don’t want you interrogating him while he’s hurt.”

“Of course not. Does Brad know?”

“I’d like you to leave him out of this. He’d get upset, and I need to keep him on an even keel right now. This is between you and me.”

“I’d like to think so, but you haven’t answered my questions very directly.” She stood and tossed her napkin hard at the table. He could tell her temper was going to show again. Her wineglass toppled over, but it was empty. “Then if it’s between us,” she said, “I have a confession to make.
I,
at least, want to tell the truth.”

He waited for her to demand to know if he had hidden an Adena artifact, but she didn’t. “I was waiting for you in the front yard yesterday evening when you drove by. I followed you, because I wanted to know if you were heading for the mica seam and why. I saw you dig up the empty box above Brad’s dead dog.”

He jumped up, leaned stiff-armed on the table. Brad had said she’d spied on him, and now—if she knew the box was empty, she’d dug it up, too, seen the shape of the big Adena arrowhead.

“Forget the dead dog.
You
keep beating a dead horse!” he shouted. “Okay, Brad once had an Adena arrowhead he found on our property. But from now on, any old artifacts we find here are off-limits to you, including anything in that mica seam or buried under a pile of stones!”

“You want me out of here, because you’re hiding something!”

“Yeah, I’m hiding that I want you and love you, and that’s just not going to work out, is it?”

She looked too shocked to respond, but what he’d blurted out staggered him, too. Yeah, that was the truth—how he felt about her, and the truth that it would never, ever work.

“Grant, I want you to know—” she said as his cell phone sounded. She stopped in the middle of her thought. The familiar tune confused him for a moment as if it came from another world. He turned to the walnut sideboard and reached for his phone, glancing at the number. “Keith,” he told her. “He’s home, but maybe those wood samples came. Just—just a second. Keith, Grant here. What’s up? Did the bird’s-eye maple pieces arrive from Wisconsin after I left?”

“The timber thieves have been here! They took a couple of prime oaks! Three, way back behind the house. You said, when they hit next, you had a lead to find them and—”

“When? When was this?”

“Velma wasn’t here today, so we’re not sure. At least five, six hours ago.”

“Call 911 to get Jace there. I’ll be over later, but I’m going to check the place they cut up my tree on Shadow Mountain first.”

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked as he ended the call and jammed the phone in his shirt pocket.

“The tree thieves hit Keith’s place for prime oak. I’m going up on Shadow Mountain to see if they try to hide there until they cut it up and get it out of state.”

“But since we found their cut-up place, they wouldn’t return, would they? Besides, we got shot at there.”

He raced into the kitchen and grabbed his car keys. As upset as he was about the trees, he was relieved there was an excuse to stop her from grilling him. She followed him to the front-hall closet, where he fumbled behind hanging winter clothes and produced a rifle and box of bullets.

“We don’t know it was them who shot at us,” he argued. “They may not even know we were there. You ever hear of a citizen’s arrest?”

“Grant, you can’t! I’m going, too.”

“No. Too dangerous.”

“I’m coming, too!” she insisted and grabbed her purse from the hall table. He almost laughed at her. He had a gun and ammo; she had—what?—lipstick and a wallet?

But he was tired of arguing with her, fighting her. And he really didn’t want to leave her here alone. She was right he needed a security alarm and motion light detector out back, especially if word ever got out there was literally treasure on these grounds. Did she believe any of what he’d told her?

“All right,” he said as he headed for the front door with her behind him. “But there are certain conditions. You will stay in the truck if I get out. You will get down on the floor if I say to. Understood?”

“Of course. See how well we could work together on other things? And just in case we end up spinning off that mountain road up there again, I wanted you to know I care for you, too.”

That revved him up even more despite the fact she was getting too close to his secrets again. His defenses were going down. But he knew he could lose her if he refused to answer questions—and lose her if he told the truth.

* * *

Kate thought Grant drove too fast, obsessed with getting to the spot where the thieves had dissected his maple tree. It was dark by the time they reached Shadow Mountain, so she felt doubly nervous on the narrow, twisting road upward. The old Mason Mill truck rattled, and he said it needed new tires. Maybe she shouldn’t have come along.

He was quiet, but she had to talk. Yet she knew, at least right now, not to start with accusations and arguments again. “I can’t believe someone could haul huge horses, their hitch and one or more tall trees up this road. Have you thought of that? They’d be crazy to come back here. How did they get your tree up this road?”

“There’s better access up the north face of the mountain, but it takes longer to go around. So we might be there in time. Keith said they cut them at least five or six hours ago.”

“We won’t be able to call for help unless Lacey’s parents let you use the phone that someone cut the wires on just three days ago—if they’ve had it repaired by now. How did Keith sound?”

“Mad as hell. All this makes me feel he’s my brother as much as Brad is. I’m going to park in the old driveway, where the former farmhouse once stood, to keep my distance. And you’re staying in the truck.”

“Maybe we’ll see the horses in the field. Then we can drive back to bring Jace up here, because we’ll know the thieves are there again. Please, promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You, too. Stay put. Stay down.”

Using only his parking lights, he drove in the old farmhouse driveway. They bounced along, hidden from the field by a line of pine trees. When he turned off the engine, the blackness became a second, solid wall around them.

“This won’t take long,” he told her. “They’re either here by now or they changed venues. Sit tight and keep the doors locked. I’ll be right back—unless I find them. Then, I swear, I’ll bring them back hog-tied.”

* * *

Grant hiked into darkness through the trees with his rifle, a big flashlight and three coils of rope over his shoulder. If the thieves were there, he’d have to make them tie each other up.

Keeping his flashlight off, he stayed on the edge of the field, just outside the fence. He stumbled in a hole, went down on all fours, grateful he didn’t sprain or break his ankle, but he couldn’t turn on a light until he was sure no one was here. He got up and walked into the fringe of the woodlot near the shed where he and Kate had taken cover when they were under fire.

No sounds here but that of shifting leaves and a few crickets. Not even lightning bugs, because they seldom came up this high. If the oaks were being hauled up here, surely the thieves would have arrived by now. He was deeply disappointed but relieved he wouldn’t have to use the gun.

He waited awhile longer, listening, watching, thinking. He, Brad, Todd and Paul—were they thieves, too? The thought tormented him. He was willing to wait all night, but Kate would be worried. So he wouldn’t stumble again, he turned on his flashlight and, keeping the beam low, swept the area with it. Jace had found cartridge shells up here, but from a common make of hunting rifle—not enough evidence to even question anyone.

The beam of light caught something bright red in the grass. Grant knew instantly what it was. He bent and picked up the wrapper. Clove gum, the kind Lacey always chewed. Her breath had always smelled of its tart, clean aroma. Sometimes he could tell when she was creeping up behind him from the scent. Had she been creeping through these woods from her parents’ place, with Brad, and why? Of course, maybe they’d just walked over here to see the evidence of the sawed-up tree Brad had loved, too.

Grant jammed the wrapper in his pocket and hurried out of the fringe of dark forest, back toward the truck, keeping the light low again. He pushed his way through the screen of pines right beside the truck. He didn’t see Kate in it!

He sprinted the last few yards.

Yes, thank God, for once Kate Lockwood has followed orders.
She had scooted down in her seat.

In general, she had tried to toe his line, hadn’t she? More than anything, she wanted to get inside that mound, yet she’d heeded his wishes.
I wanted you to know I care for you, too,
she’d said.

He put his face close to the window glass so she could see it was him, but she was already fumbling with the inside lock. He opened the driver’s-side door, slid the ropes and rifle back onto the floor behind the driver’s seat, then climbed in.

“No sign of anyone,” he told her as he closed and locked the door. “So maybe that
was
the thieves who shot at us before, and they’ve switched venues. I hope, at least, they still use the same mill in Wisconsin, but they might be too smart for that. I used to think it was probably some down-and-out local, unemployed good old boy, maybe a truck driver between runs who had the hauling capability, but now I’m not sure. It scares me to think it’s someone I know—someone who has access to big saws and knows how to bring a big tree down right.”

“Someone from the mill, you mean? Then they would have insider information to let them know when you and Keith aren’t home.”

He turned sharply to face her. “You mean Brad?”

“It was just a general question, but I’m learning not to trust people I want to trust, people I thought I could, namely Carson Cantrell.”

“Good. I know what you mean. It’s nothing definitive, but I found a gum wrapper from the kind of gum Lacey chews all the time.”

“A strong clove smell? I noticed that from her.”

“Yeah. But I’m trying not to jump to conclusions just because I found a discarded relic tied to someone.”

“I hear you—again.”

“Kate, you didn’t mean that you can’t trust
me,
did you?”

“I—I don’t know. Will time tell?”

Unsure what would be a good comeback, he started the truck. The headlights came on, illuminating part of a big, broken, old painted sign leaning against the pines about fifteen feet straight ahead of them. Against a dark blue background, the white words glared at them in the lights. Treat Yourself To The Best.

Kate gasped. “That wasn’t there before!”

“I sure didn’t see it. You didn’t see anyone, did you?”

“In the pitch-black? No, but some sick joker must have been so close when he put it there. Maybe someone is watching you or me. You’re right. This is someone smart—and it’s personal.”

He turned the truck around fast, then hit the accelerator to send them bouncing down the old driveway. “I’m tempted to get my rifle and see if someone’s hiding behind that sign. But I don’t want another bullet in the tires up here—or in me.”

He turned out onto the road so fast they fishtailed. Finally, just before they started down the mountain, he slowed. “The old barn up there used to have a Mail Pouch Tobacco sign,” he told her. “I think that’s part of it. But I can’t remember if it was painted on or nailed on. So, not only is this a wild-goose chase, but we’re the stupid geese.”

“If not Lacey, still mad at you, maybe Bright Star is harassing us—especially me. He’s bright, all right, but warped, diabolical. And what’s the real message of
Treat Yourself To The Best?

Grant fought to keep calm, to drive the sharp turns carefully. It was black as pitch up here, and he was grateful they met no one heading up and that in the rearview mirror he saw no vehicle pursuing. As if to assure himself as well as her, he kept talking. “There are lots of Mail Pouch signs in this area. But—hey—I did like that message, even though we seem far off from treating ourselves to the best right now.”

“Speaking of messages out of the blue—or the dark,” she said, “you’re not afraid, are you, for your own safety, after what happened to Paul and Todd?”

“You think it’s a message like I’m next, so I might as well live it up now—treat myself to the best?”

“From the first you thought losing your tree was a personal warning or threat.”

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