Forbidden Ground (Cold Creek #2)(73)

“Which I’ve come to realize is actually a spear point.”

Another smooth subject shift, Grant thought, and not a good sign. He’d also avoided the question of whether he’d told Lacey. Surely she hadn’t seduced the artifact out of him to support her Green Tree passions. “Maybe not a spear point,” Grant told him. “Kate says that artifacts destined for Adena tombs were often oversize, and Adena spear points are long with leaf-shaped points and a rounded stem, and yours wasn’t, so it probably is—was—an arrowhead.”

“My, my, but you and the professor have been having intimate talks. Look, if you’re still so damned worried about keeping her and her archaeo-maniacs out of the mound, get rid of her. I mean, send her away, get her off your property and out of your life. I don’t think you can have it both ways. Besides, maybe she lusts after the mound and not you!” He paused for a moment. “The fact you’re not punching me or throwing me out tells me you’ve thought of that.”

“I’m not an idiot, Brad.”

“Okay, how about this approach if you don’t want to burn bridges with her? Tell her you got in the mound alone when you were a kid and took that deer-head mask. Tell her if she helps you put it back—no questions asked, no one informed—that you’ll let her excavate the place, but don’t mention the rest of us who have things—or, in Paul’s case, had. We don’t need big fines, bad publicity or prison time.”

Grant’s insides knotted. That would make Kate a liar, but would she go for it? That was a solution he’d thought of. Only he’d considered asking Brad and Todd to let him put their relics back in the death chamber, too—and if only he could locate Paul’s. Not that he believed taking the Adena artifacts caused a curse, but to lose Paul and then have Tarzan Todd fall was such an eerie coincidence.

Brad’s voice sliced through his agonizing. “That is, if you want to keep Kate here.” He got up and edged toward the door.

“The woman’s been all over Europe,” Grant said, standing and turning. “Her idea of a vacation is going to see her younger sister out West and excavating ancient Anasazi garbage dumps while she’s there. It would be Lacey all over again, wanting to get out of Cold Creek, unhappy living here.”

Brad put his hand on the doorknob then froze. “Maybe not. Kate’s a whole lot smarter than Lacey, and the fact she’s been all over might mean she knows what she wants, is willing to settle down.” He gave a wry little smile. “Here’s an idea. Marry her and she won’t be able to testify against you—just kidding. Take care of yourself. I don’t like the pattern of two of our old buddies going down. I’m watching my back and you’d better watch yours.”

Strange, Grant thought, but his tone had sounded like a threat, a direct warning at the very least. Suddenly, he was desperate to move on, to change the subject.

“Oh, one more thing—not important compared to Kate,” Grant said. “I was on the phone last night with the owner of a lumber mill outside Madison, Wisconsin, that received a huge amount of bird’s-eye maple last week.”

Brad’s eyes widened as he turned back. He looked as upset as Grant felt, almost as if he’d been caught at something. “Our tree?”

“I think so. He’s sending me a couple of wood samples, so keep an eye out for it. And one of the pieces has nails in it. I think that might be where our tree house crashed off when the tree hit the ground.”

“Yeah, I’ll watch for that, and we can check the nails. Let me know if he can trace the source. You do realize you just said that the stolen tree was not important compared to Kate, don’t you?” he asked as he went out and closed the door.

For the first time since Brad had been home, Grant appreciated his advice and yet there had been a sense of menace to it. But Kate seemed to always operate on the up-and-up, so would she ever go along with entering the mound to put an item back for one man before—or instead of—taking them out for all mankind, as she liked to say? More likely she’d never forgive him for lying to her, misleading her this long. And, mound or not out her back door, would Kate ever be content living in Cold Creek, living with him?

*

After phoning Amber’s mother to be sure she could drop by later, Kate got a small spade out of her car trunk, took a pen and paper and hightailed it straight for the place Brad had buried his dog. She marched past the mound—after taking a good stop-and-stare at it—and past the mica seam, since she’d told Grant she’d steer clear of both sites, at least until Saturday, when her dig team would come back. But he hadn’t told her not to get near this pile of stones. And he didn’t know she’d seen him dig here.

Looking all around, trying to buck herself up that no intruders would be in the forest this early, she did the same thing Grant had done last night. A quick sketch of the stones in case Brad, now Grant, too, knew how they were piled. An easy dig to that wooden box she’d seen Grant unearth.

The box was fine wood with a nice grain, but marred by soil and scratch marks. Fully expecting to find a dog collar or some memento of Brad’s dog in it—but why would that have upset Grant when he saw it?—she fumbled with the corroded metal latch and opened it.

And gasped.

The box was empty. The inside was beautiful with gathered blue-gray silk, formed in a perfect shape for something that was no longer here. Something that had left mica dust and had lain here that was perfectly fitted to this form. A large—overly large—leaf-shaped arrowhead.