Forbidden Ground (Cold Creek #2)(28)
*
Grant decided not to question or confront Todd at the mill about whether he’d been arguing with Paul the day he died. Instead, he drove to Todd’s house after work. He’d talk to him then call Kate’s cell and pick her up about eight. He wanted to get her away from here for a while—clear his own head, too, and avoid Brad—so he planned to drive them to a restaurant he liked in Chillicothe. He didn’t mind that he’d be two nights straight at his favorite restaurant. He’d set it up long ago that he’d take Todd and Amber out for Todd’s birthday tomorrow.
He pulled into the curved drive at Todd’s neatly kept wooden ranch house. Good—his pickup truck was here. He could hear the kids shouting behind the house where there was a jungle gym and swing set. All three of Todd’s boys were elementary-school age. Seeing the McCollum family over the years had made Grant long for kids of his own, however rowdy the McCollum kids were.
Amber McCollum had been Todd’s high-school sweetheart, as Lacey had been Grant’s. Amber saw him arrive and came to the front door. She was a trim natural redhead with light brown eyes and freckles. She’d been a hairstylist in town before the kids, but preferred to stay at home now, more power to her, though Grant knew money was always tight. He tried to give the kids nice gifts, buy gift certificates for restaurants for their family—the family he wished he had.
“Grant, come on in! Aren’t you and Todd tired of seeing each other at the mill?” she teased and held the door open.
“I just wanted to run something by him in private without all the noise and interruptions.”
“Fat chance with those hooligans out there,” she said with a laugh as he went inside. “They’ll go bonkers when they see you.”
The place looked like a tornado had gone through with toys everywhere and a blanket over a card table as if to make a play fort. It made him think of the mound again. A mounted stag head stared down from the wall. It had colored rings snagged on its antlers as if the kids had used it for a game. It reminded Grant of the argument he and Todd had had over the Adena mask. In their late teen years, Todd had wanted to trade his ax head for the mask with the antlers, but Grant had refused. He just couldn’t part with it. There was something so compelling, so hypnotizing—even if terrible—about that mask. Kate’s Beastmaster.
They walked to the living-room picture window overlooking the backyard and woods beyond. “Can I get you anything?” Amber asked, turning toward him. “A beer? Can of pop?”
“Thanks, I’m fine. If you can let Todd know...”
“He was upset when he came home. It was more than mourning Paul’s death. I don’t know why, but maybe you do. He played with the kids a bit, and I haven’t had a chance to get it out of him what’s bugging him. Pillow talk later will do the trick, I hope.”
Playing with the kids...pillow talk. Grant realized he’d like both of those things in his life.
“Grant, are you here about something he did or didn’t do? Maybe that’s why he’s so upset. I mean, I know Paul’s death really shook him up, the strange circumstances and all that, but— Okay, I’ll tell you where he is,” she added when he shook his head and frowned. “Literally up a tree.”
“His favorite one?”
“Yep. And I was sorry to hear about the tree-house maple. That hit Todd hard, too. He did mention one thing today—that Lacey brought protesters to the mill and was real mouthy. She’s sure changed from our old double-date days, but haven’t we all?”
“You’re a good friend, Amber, and good for Todd.”
“I knew he was Tarzan of our local jungle when I married him. But hey, you just say hi to the boys, then go on out—and tell my man to be home in a couple of hours to help tuck our wild kids in bed.”
She walked him to the back door. Jason, the oldest boy, spotted him and started shouting, “Uncle Grant! Uncle Grant’s here!”
Three kids barreled at him, and he bent down to give them all high fives and hugs.
*
You might know, Kate thought, Brad Mason was sitting at the bar in the English pub. When he spotted her with Carson, he sauntered over. All she needed was pressure from Carson not only to get cozy with Grant but Brad, too.
“Yo, Kate of the Adena,” Brad greeted her and held up his free hand, palm forward with his fingers open, two by two, in the Star Trek Mr. Spock V. He had what looked like a martini in his other hand. “Just wanted to say hi, but I’ll clear out if this is an up-close-and-personal friend.”
Kate made the necessary introductions, calling Carson her colleague at Ohio State, where she’d taught low-level archaeology courses before her grant to go to England came through. When Carson heard who Brad was, his eyes lit up just like when he’d seen the blood-tipped metal stars.
“Sit down with us,” Carson invited and got up to slide next to Kate on one side of the booth to make room for Brad on the opposite. “Kate and I work together in the study of the Adena. I hear you have a mound on your family’s land.”
Brad put his drink down and leaned back in the booth. “You’re not really BCI undercover here? Some of them dress like that. All you need is sunglasses and one of those earpieces—and to be carrying a gun under that suit coat.”
Kate noted that Brad, like Grant, didn’t want to discuss the mound. “Brad has just come back to town,” Kate started to explain, but Carson cut her off.