Forbidden Ground. Karen Harper
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Kate hated to admit it, but Jack Lockwood, at age fifty-two, looked as handsome as she remembered from her memories as a ten-year-old girl and dreams of “Daddy.” As he entered the room reserved at the Falls Lodge for the rehearsal dinner, he let go of his youngest boy’s hand and ruffled his older boy’s hair. His wife, Gwen, was a pretty blonde, probably fifteen years younger than he was. She looked as nervous as Kate felt, but her father strode across the room toward his three daughters.
Tess met him partway and threw herself into his arms. Char grabbed his shoulder until she, too, was pulled into his embrace. But he looked over both their heads directly at Kate.
“Katie,” he said.
She blinked back tears and extended her hand when he stepped free from the group hug. Gabe hovered nearby; she could see Grant watching from the doorway where he was talking to the two young Lockwood boys—her half brothers. She felt frozen in place.
“Welcome back,” she managed to say, not stepping closer.
“I know how hard you worked to keep things together, Katie,” her father said, lowering his voice. “You and your mother did a great job with everything.”
Her brain told her to say thank-you, but the words wouldn’t come out. She tried to move away, but he raised her hand and kissed the back of it. The years, the fears, came screaming back as he released her. He had a determined way about him, and maybe she owed her own pluck to that.
Suddenly, everything turned chaotic, meeting his wife, stooping to look into the darling faces of his sons, chatting with them. Dad remembered Vic Reingold, who had helped the sheriff when Tess was abducted, so they shook hands. And then they all held their breath as he came to Gabe’s mother, with whom he’d had an affair that helped to end his marriage—though only those closest to him had known.
“Sarah, you’re looking great,” he said, shaking her hand. “My condolences on the loss of your husband and congratulations that Tess and Gabe have put all the pieces together like I couldn’t.”
“Yes,” she said. “The second generation atones for the mistakes of the former sometimes. That’s a blessing.”
“It sure is.”
Finally, everyone’s attention turned back to Tess and Gabe. They all trooped out to the grassy spot where the wedding ceremony would be held. The backdrop was a sky-blue lake with a waterfall crashing into it from granite cliffs. When the wind blew just right—or wrong—mist floated in the air, like nature’s attempt at a cleansing, Kate thought, a sort of new-family baptism. If only she could hug her father, forgive him and be glad that he was here, but she just couldn’t.
In the wedding rehearsal, Kate walked down the grassy aisle just ahead of Tess’s entrance. Gabe and Grant stood waiting next to Pastor Snell and the portable altar. For one fleeting moment, with the whirring rush of the falls in the background, she imagined she was walking down the aisle to Grant.
After Pastor Snell talked them through the ceremony, she walked up the aisle and back to the lodge on Grant’s arm. It seemed so natural, actually exciting, to be with him, paired with him, even for someone else’s wedding. Strange how her feelings for Carson were so different—admiration, an intellectual bond—while she felt Grant’s mere presence in her very bones. He radiated intensity, which shot little shards of heat through her. They sat together at the rehearsal dinner, sometimes talking with others but often only with each other. She wanted to fall into the deep pools of his eyes.
She clung to a bit of rationality, though, telling herself she had just accepted going uptown with him to the English pub for many reasons other than just to be with him. It was still light outside. If only she could talk him into at least showing her Mason Mound before he got busy with his life again—before Carson roared in here next week.
* * *
In Grant’s car, Kate was excited as they drove out of the park, when he said, “I know that reunion with your dad was hard for you. But maybe you can forgive if not forget. I know I’d give about anything to have my father back again, and he was no angel.”
His cell phone sounded with the old John Denver tune “Country Roads.” He pulled over and stared at the phone.
“A call from my home phone number,” he told her. “Probably my brother, Brad.”
But when he answered it, Kate could hear it was a woman’s voice.
“What?” he almost shouted. “Is Brad there?”
“No,” she could hear the woman tell him. “Since you and Todd were at the wedding rehearsal, he went to the mill and hasn’t come back.”
“Phone him, please. I’ll be right there. You’re right. I didn’t order that! Kate,” he said, turning to her, “I’ve got to get home fast. Can’t stop to drop you off.”
“What is it?”
“That was my cleaning woman at the house,” he said as he pulled out onto the main road. “She heard a chain saw out back, but couldn’t see anyone. She says the tree canopy has a lot more open sky out the back window. We’ve had a problem with tree thieves around here, but they surely wouldn’t come so close to a house—my house!”
He dropped his phone in her lap. “Call 911 and tell the dispatcher to get Jace Miller. Gabe’s been trying to nail that gang, but today and tomorrow—I just can’t bother him. Have Deputy Miller meet me out behind the house. These bastards hit fast and disappear, and I’ve got heirloom, valuable trees back there.”
She did as he said while he drove like a man possessed. Well, she thought, this was one way to get near Mason Mound, though her heart went out to him.
* * *
Grant could not believe the gall of whoever was tampering with his trees—in daylight, close to the house! He’d helped to spearhead the search for whoever could be sneaking in and stealing from woodlots in the area—valuable oak, maple, walnut and cherry, the very timber he paid big bucks for at the mill. They were robbing people, they were robbing him and desecrating—murdering—trees!
The more desperate people got for money in these tough times, they pirated anything they could, stripping copper pipes from old houses, brass doors and urns off local cemetery crypts—and wood, none of which he’d seen come into his lumber yard. He’d dedicated himself to helping Gabe and Jace stop the crime. He’d put in days trying to convince legislators at both the state and national levels that they needed stricter timber-theft laws, because it wasn’t just a problem around here. People from California to Florida were fighting this.
But now it was personal. Had someone known he’d be away most of the day? Were they daring enough to come right into his woodlot to defy him or prove he couldn’t stop them? And you might know Brad had left the house, because he surely could have caught on to the fact a chain saw was too close. Mrs. McGirty, who had worked for his family for years, might have a hearing problem, but not Brad.
He roared into his driveway and jerked the car to a stop. “Sorry to involve you in this, Kate. Make yourself at home. Thanks for the help,” he told her, as he grabbed his phone from her, got out and sprinted for his front door.
* * *
Kate saw an older lady with a dust rag open the door for Grant. He ran past her. Kate got out and hurried after him, nodding to the woman as she went inside.
Kate could hear Grant run through the house and slam a back door. Thank heavens she was in flats today, since they were wearing them on the grass for the wedding. She went downstairs, saw where he’d gone out. She caught a glimpse of him as he ran across the back lawn and disappeared into the fringe of forest. His shouts floated to her. He sounded almost like an enraged or wounded animal. Or had he spotted someone still out there? Even she could see a huge, blank place in the foliage that had not been there before.
She found a dirt path and followed it. The shape of the entire mound appeared the moment she started into the trees. Hoping Deputy Miller