Forbidden Ground. Karen Harper

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      “Not my cup of tea,” he said, walking closer. A twitch at the corner of his mouth might have been a hint of a grin. “Grant’s either a beer or wine man, but I go for the hard stuff, maybe because I’ve been through some hard stuff in life.”

      “Haven’t we all?”

      “You mean Daddy Dearest in there?”

      “Am I that easy to read?”

      “If someone’s watching. And I think Grant is.”

      She turned away from his avid stare. Brad had evidently been studying her, too. The man had liquor on his breath. Though she wanted to know more about Grant, she’d sensed last night when Brad got home from the mill that there had been tension between the brothers. She decided to “pull a Tess” on him and change the subject.

      “I understand you own a mill also.”

      “More or less. Foreclosure. Chapter Thirteen. A paper mill. Now if we could convince people here today to use paper products instead of linen napkins and tablecloths, maybe I’d still be in business,” he said with a little snort, not quite a laugh. “I hear even at that wacko Hear Ye compound, they have the words to hymns on a screen, no more hymnals or paper handouts, though I’ll bet that dictator doesn’t let his flock go online.

      “So why isn’t Lee Lockwood here at his cousin’s shindig?” he asked. “I knew him in school.”

      “Lee and his family, unfortunately, have been forbidden to attend by their creepy leader.”

      “That guy’s a lunatic, but you’re kidding?”

      “Wish I were. I met him up close and personal when he made Lee’s wife, Grace, come to tell us she couldn’t attend a pagan ceremony. At least they aren’t protesting this event with placards—paper ones—like some off-the-wall groups do. He got me so upset I invoked the pagan dead. At least I didn’t call him the Beastmaster.”

      “I heard you were an anthropology prof. You study all that stuff? And the Beastmaster? That was a movie and a video game.”

      “In real life, it was a disguise Celtic shamans used to scare either diseases or unwanted behavior out of people—an antlered head, frightening face.”

      He frowned, looking upset, but then went on. “In unreal life, I’ve played that video game. Are you a gamer?” he asked, shifting closer to her and giving her an obvious once-over look that meant he fully intended the double entendre.

      She leaned her shoulder against a post to give herself a little more breathing room. Did this guy make a habit of trying to know Grant’s women friends—or attract them to himself?

      “No time for video games,” she said. “I have been called Lara Croft, Tomb Raider since I study ancient burial practices, so better not get too close or I might have to go for my pistols.”

      He actually stepped back. Not only did his breath smell of whiskey, but he also seemed a bit unsteady. “I liked those Lara Croft video games and the movies with Angelina Jolie, especially her sexy, skimpy outfits. But you’ll get farther with Grant with a game called ‘Kate Lockwood, Tree-Theft Detective’ right now.”

      “He was distraught. Weren’t you?”

      “Into each life some rain must fall, but we’ll get whoever did that. It was more than an insult. We’ll get him.”

      “Him? Do you have any leads?”

      Char opened the door to the lodge and called out, “Kate! Gabe’s going to finally announce where they’re going on their honeymoon.”

      “See you later,” Kate told Brad.

      She hurried after Char but not before she heard him say, “Sure do hope so.”

      As she hustled back to her seat, Kate saw her cute, little half brothers sitting with the two boys related to the flower girl, Sandy Kenton. Sandy’s parents were here, but the child seemed almost like Tess’s daughter, since she usually kept so close to her. Dad’s wife, Gwen, was keeping an eye on the four boys, but maybe she’d better be keeping an eye on Dad, who was mingling with people like it was old-home week. Yet he did seem to be steering clear of his old flame, Gabe’s mother, who was with Detective Reingold.

      Kate got to her seat just before Gabe’s announcement. “I’m excited to share with all of you that Tess and I are going to be away for two weeks. We’re heading to Paris, then going through France on a barge cruise on the Loire River. Sorry, but I probably won’t be thinking much about sheriff’s duties, which will be in Deputy Jace Miller’s capable hands while we’re away. I’ll be back in plenty of time, Jace, for the next full moon to help keep an eye on the lunatic invasion of outsiders who come in here looking for paranormal sightings and ghosts at the old insane asylum outside town. Meanwhile, no cell phones, no 911 calls. We’re going to be happily out of touch except with each other.”

      People laughed and applauded. But Deputy Miller, Kate noticed, looked pretty nervous. She knew Gabe had assured him that he could handle tracking down the timber thieves. The bigger challenge would be to keep Grant Mason from playing detective or, worse, judge and jury if he figured out who was at fault.

      Later, everyone gathered outside to throw rose petals at the departing couple. They were going to their new house to change clothes then head to the Columbus airport to make overnight flight connections to France. One of Grant’s mill workers was driving them to the airport. Char was flying back to New Mexico in the morning, so Kate would have the old house to herself.

      Kate stood between Grant and Brad, waving goodbye as Gabe’s car—with a few crazy signs someone had put in the back window—drove out of sight.

      “Nice touch we didn’t throw rice, but I guess these are more biodegradable,” Brad told Grant and tossed the last few petals from his small sack over him and Kate. “Lacey’s Green Tree would be proud.”

      “I’ll see you back at the house,” Grant said, taking Kate’s arm to steer her away.

      “What’s Lacey’s Green Tree?” she asked.

      “Lacey was my first wife—I mean, my wife, but we’ve been divorced for years. She’s really active in Green Tree. It’s a Midwest knockoff of Greenpeace. They protest over environmental issues. Ignore Brad. He likes to make waves. Kate, listen. I can drive you back, wait until you change clothes if you want to go see the mill. I need to stop by there for a little bit. Then maybe we can have another private toast to the happy couple, though not at my place. I can’t stand looking through that picture window at that spot of naked sky right now.”

      “Sure, that would be fine. Char’s going back to the hotel with my father’s family to play with the boys and give their parents a break.”

      “You’re sure you don’t want to go with them?”

      “I’m sure. I’ll go back in to wish them well, say goodbye. It will just take a second. I also want to ask Paul Kettering if I could stop by tomorrow to talk about a special project I’d like to commission, but I see he’s leaving.”

      “I can call him for you, set it up. He lives out a ways, up Sunrise Mountain. I’d be happy to drive you there tomorrow.”

      “I’d СКАЧАТЬ