Forbidden Ground. Karen Harper

to Grant only in a businesslike, controlled way seemed crazy, maybe impossible. Getting closer to Grant...wouldn’t that be an all-or-nothing proposition? She saw him as so much more than just a way to get to that Adena mound on his property.

      “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Pastor Snell said in a voice loud enough to be heard over the roar of the falls. “Family and friends, I have the honor of introducing to you Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel McCord.”

      There was a big kiss by the bridal couple. Applause, tears and smiles, a quick procession from the front to the back, where the wedding party formed a reception line before the guests meandered toward the lodge where the wedding lunch would be held. Kate froze when Dad hugged her. She just couldn’t hug him back.

      * * *

      The lunch was lovely, with numerous champagne toasts. Grant gave a short speech in honor of the new couple, hoping they would always support each other through the best and worst in life. Dad gave a toast about loyalty and forgiving each other in hard times. Recalling how their mother had sobbed for days when he left, Kate stepped out for a breath of air on the wide, covered lodge porch, which wrapped around the log building on three sides.

      The front section was deserted, but she heard men’s voices raised nearby, around the corner away from the waterfall. “I don’t care about a bunch of old boyhood oaths at this point!” one man said. “I swear I’m going to do it!”

      “Keep your voice down. You’ll open up a whole can of worms if you try that. You’ll ruin everything. I can only loan you a little, but just shut up about that or else! Now let’s get back inside, or we’ll have Brad or Grant out here looking for us.”

      “But Nadine’s going to need some long-term medical treatment. We knew we needed insurance, but we were both healthy, and we cut corners. But she’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, and that will mean a lot of bills.”

      Kate knew that voice. It was the sculptor, Paul Kettering. That touch of Southern twang in the other voice sounded like Grant’s friend Todd. She didn’t want them to know she’d overheard them, so she moved down the front veranda and turned the corner so they wouldn’t see her.

      And there stood Brad Mason, who was just putting a small flask back into his inner suit-coat pocket. He looked up at her, obviously surprised.

      “You’re missing champagne inside,” she told him.

      “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