Broken Bonds. Karen Harper

table. I was online looking at arrows for what must have been a recurve bow. Yeah, Jen,” he said into the phone. “I’ll be right in. Order me some breakfast from the dining room to be brought to my office, okay?”

      “A recurve bow?” she asked when he punched Off.

      “A crossbow with a real punch, but luckily it arched upward and caught the door on the downward trajectory—that’s what I’m suspecting, anyway. But the arrow we took out of the door doesn’t look like ones online. I read that you can unscrew the metal tips and reuse them. I wonder if the shooter makes his own shafts and fletching. Mention that to Gabe when you show him the arrow.”

      She walked closer. If he’d used the bathroom, she hadn’t heard him in there. His clothes were wrinkled but he looked awake and alert. The only way she’d know he’d been here all night was his beard stubble—black, like his hair but flecked with silver.

      “So,” he said as she plugged in the coffeepot that sat on the wooden counter. “Are we still on to visit the McKitrick family later today?”

      “You’re willing to go back up on Pinecrest after what happened there—and here?”

      He came into the kitchenette, turned her toward him and took her shoulders in a light grip. “I refuse to let someone spook me. As stubborn as you are—”

      “Strong-minded.”

      “Right. You ought to understand that I’m not going to turn tail and run. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

      “Me, too. We’ll go in my truck.”

      “And I’ll bring a gun, just in case.”

      “You have a gun?”

      “And a rifle. Which I never touch, but I’ve got a license for both weapons. I prefer shooting below par on the golf course. How about three o’clock? And we’ll be careful we’re not followed.”

      “I’ll pick you up at the lodge?”

      “Good. And you know, despite what’s happened, it feels right to be with you.”

      “Me, too—the same.”

      He bent to kiss her cheek. His beard stubble brushed her skin. “Pinecrest Mountain, here we come again. And watch yourself until then.”

      “Matt, that archery range down near the tennis courts—does anyone shoot recurve crossbows there?”

      “Not that I’ve seen. Strictly Robin Hood, Boy Scout stuff, but I’ll ask Ginger, our instructor. You are heading out right after me, aren’t you?”

      “As soon as I get my shot of battery acid here,” she said, indicating the coffee. “Can I pour you a cup?”

      “Sure. To go, please. I have a meeting at eight. You’ve got my cell number, so call me today if anything seems strange.”

      He took the coffee she poured into her own travel cup and headed out.

      If anything seems strange, he’d said. Oh, yeah, a lot seemed strange. How strong her feelings were for him. Deep concern that someone might be out to kill him—or now, her. And a little bit of mistrust for two thoughts she’d had last night but was trying to ignore. First, that the weird arrow attack gave weight to advice from Matt and her family that she shouldn’t stay in the cabin, but surely that could not be a setup or warning from any of them. Worse, that before Matt turned his brights on last night, he’d blinked his headlights as if it were a signal to someone out in the darkness of the trees.

      * * *

      “You weren’t home last night at all, were you?” Royce asked, popping his head into Matt’s office door, then stepping in. Matt had a suite of offices on the first floor of the lodge, and Royce always stayed upstairs in the guest suite while his assistant, Orlando, took one of the smaller rooms.

      “I turned off my phone for a while,” Matt told him, looking up from his laptop. Next to it was the tray with the remnants of his hastily eaten breakfast.

      “It upset me, considering what happened to you. I was worried. So I had Orlando go over and knock on your door—no dice—no Matt.”

      “I was with a friend.”

      “Really? Let me guess. A lady friend?” he asked with a wink.

      Matt decided not to play that game. Char and his feelings for her were strictly his business, at least for now. After all, Royce had tried to suggest she had set him up to hit him up. “Royce, how can I help you?”

      “You’re touchy, but then it is early morning, and you don’t look like you’ve slept. I wanted you to know I have a suggestion for you about a local guy—been a small-time farmer—who would be a good groundskeeper to take Woody’s place.”

      “Woody was head groundskeeper, so he’d need to be good.”

      “I’ll bet he is. Joe Fencer. The family is selling their land to EEC out on Valley View Road across from the big drill spot, that old religious cult land. Brad said Joe’s wife told him on the q.t. she was afraid that he needed something to do and was real conflicted about giving up his family’s land. You’re the man around here, so how about it?”

      Matt hesitated. He’d been looking for someone local who had farm or gardening experience. He decided not to tell Royce he’d seen Brad hosting the Fencers last night when he was with Char. Still hovering at the door, Royce stared at him hard.

      “I’ll interview him tomorrow, if you want to give me his number.”

      “Great. Good. Like to tap into local talent, right? I’m learning the wisdom of that myself. See you later for your board dinner meeting, then.”

      Royce had barely stepped out when Orlando knocked once on the door frame and stepped into the office. Matt put the phone down before he made his next call. He was starting to think his “open door” policy was a mistake today.

      “Listen,” Orlando told him. “I never got to tell you I’m glad you’re unharmed after that freak accident up on the mountain.” His dark eyebrows seemed to meet over his aquiline nose as if he were always frowning.

      “Thanks. Wish I could say it was an accident, but I don’t think so.”

      “Did you get a good look at the driver? I’m sure the local sheriff’s on it, but can I do any sniffing around while I’m out and about for Royce? I’m thinking it could be a local redneck who hates the fracking but hit you instead of Royce since I’m guarding him.”

      “I only saw the guy’s eyes at a distance—through two windshields and my own panic. You’d better leave things to the police. But thanks for being concerned, Orlando.”

      “Well, sure I am. I know how much you mean to the boss, like the son he never had, he said. He keeps me pretty tight to him, but let me know if I can help—that’s all,” he said, and went out.

      Matt felt good Orlando had made the effort and the offer. Matt knew he thought Royce spent too much time here in the boondocks, as he’d overheard him call Cold Creek—that is, until everyone on Royce’s payroll except Matt, who had opted out, starting profiting from the local fracking boom. Matt wondered if Royce had offered Orlando a big piece of that action. But since Matt himself had turned that down, he decided not to ask.

      * * *

      After Char dropped off the arrow at the sheriff’s office—Gabe was out on a domestic dispute call—she headed for Grant Mason’s home, where Kate was overseeing the dig of an ancient Adena mound, practically outside her fiancé’s back door. Kate was always good at thinking her way through things, and Char knew she could use some help.

      As usual, there were several trucks and a car parked in the loop of driveway before the large, handsome house. The front door was locked, so rather than ring the bell, Char walked around back.

      “Hi, Kaitlyn. Is Kate here?” Char asked Kate’s