Forbidden Ground (Cold Creek #2)(59)

“You going somewhere?”

“Hope not. But doesn’t the fact that Paul, then Todd had tragedies, then I almost did, make you nervous?”

“You mean like we’re targets? Like there’s some curse on us for taking stuff from the tomb?”

“So you thought of that, too? Nadine told me you asked her if you could help her go through Paul’s stuff. You’re wondering where his eagle pendant’s hidden, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, aren’t you? The guy was having financial problems and then with Nadine’s medical treatment on the horizon... What if he sold it to a middleman, a fence, or whoever he consulted, and that guy came back to see if he had more?”

“Yeah. I know.” Grant knew that Paul wasn’t the only one having financial problems. Brad was desperate to bail out his business, but the conversation just couldn’t go there. He couldn’t get his mind around the idea that Brad would hurt Paul or Todd to get his hands on their artifacts to sell. Brad was his little brother. Surely, he would never deceive him like that? Grant decided he had to make sure Brad’s big arrowhead was where he must have hidden it, under that pile of stones Kate had spotted. The grave of his nonexistent pet dog.

“Okay, let’s lift the wheel off together,” Brad said as they pulled the flat tire away from the axle. “Speaking of together, you and the professor have a thing going?”

“No, don’t roll that tire over the side!” Grant told him, grabbing his arm. “I want Jace to check it for bullets.”

“Even if it matches a shotgun or hunting rifle—even if it matches the one Lacey’s dad has—he might hate your guts, but he wasn’t out of the cabin shooting at anything, including you. Or cutting his own phone lines. I can vouch for that.”

“And he and Lacey can vouch for you. Speaking of together...” Grant said as he reached for the spare tire. “You and Lacey?”

“You think she’d stay in Cold Creek for anyone? Though ultimately my goal is to get out of here, too. And I suppose Professor Kate Lockwood wouldn’t be happy living here, either, right?”

“Right,” Grant admitted, but he wished he could say wrong.

*

That evening Kate had dinner for Grant pretty well under control, which was a good thing because she felt exhausted, as if she’d run for miles. They’d made it back down the mountain—slowly—in Grant’s beat-up truck.

The local doctor had come into his office and checked her over. No concussion this time, he said. She’d just blacked out. Then they’d driven directly to see Jace, even though they’d looked as if they’d rolled down the mountain.

Jace, spending Sunday afternoon at his office, had said he’d send the two bullets from the tire to BCI for ballistics analysis, but that could take a while. He promised he’d also try to retrieve other bullets on-site. But it was a tense exchange between Grant and Jace that had really bothered Kate:

Grant had told Jace not to waste time interviewing Clemmet Fencer or Brad. They’d just alibi each other—as would the women. “Besides, I believe Brad.”

“Maybe that’s a bad move,” Jace had said, sounding more uptight than Kate had felt. “Your little brother keeps turning up at the site of crimes, Grant, or at least could have been there. If I hear his name tied to one more thing, I— Listen, I don’t mean to jump the gun here, but are you sure he’s on your side?”

And he’d said something else that had really shaken her up: “You don’t see a trend here, do you, Grant? I mean, could the shooter have been aiming for your head? After Paul’s skull was crushed, then the E.R. doc kept saying that Todd was the first patient he’d seen who had fallen more than twenty feet who didn’t go headfirst and crush his skull, I mean...”

“No,” Grant had said and reached out to hold her upper arm as if to steady her. “Kate’s the one who’s hit her head, but she’s all right.”

Now Kate raked her fingers through her hair, which she’d finally gotten clear of sawdust, leaf litter and dirt. She’d taken a long, hot shower and washed her hair after they’d left Grant’s truck at the local body shop and Jace had driven them home. She jumped when the doorbell rang. Brad wouldn’t ring it, and Grant was taking a shower. Jace back again with something new?

In her cutoffs and T-shirt, she went to the door and looked out through the peephole. She was surprised to see almost a mirror image of herself—her younger self, anyway—standing on the front porch with a big box in her arms. The woman looked more like she could be her sister than either Tess or Char. She wore skinny jeans and an Ohio State scarlet-and-gray sweatshirt. Oh, must be Carson’s graduate assistant returning her Beastmaster mask, but hadn’t he said she’d come late tomorrow?

Kate opened the door, and before she could ask, the girl blurted out a greeting. “Hi, I’m Kaitlyn Blake, Professor Cantrell’s GA. I have your Celtic mask and I tried to copy it exactly for him to use in his Indigenous Native Americans class, but I think you did a great job with it and I’ve read all your Adena-Celtic articles. Very convincing!”

“Kaitlyn, won’t you step in? I got confused, thought you were coming tomorrow.”

“I was, but I have to help grade exams then, and I was eager to meet you. Actually, I mean—I hope helping the professor will get me started on my own great career, just like you. I’ve been researching Etruscan tombs but I’d love to get inside an Adena one.”