Broken Bonds (11 page)

Though surprised at the outburst, Matt had stood his ground. “So is Orlando even your real last name or did you just take the name of the place you grew up and—”

“None of your or anybody else’s damn business. Sorry, but that just gets to me. Don’t tell Royce I blew up, okay?”

Matt hadn’t. It was the only emotion he’d seen from the usually stoic, dedicated man. It was hard to even imagine him with a woman and—well, he’d better not go there. But Ginger was coming down in the world if she’d set her sights for Royce and moved on to Orlando. He didn’t like to think about it like this—but she’d aimed high and missed.

* * *

The Christmas trees and array of homemade crafts at the holiday market on the town square had the opposite effect Char was expecting: it didn’t cheer her up but made her sad. Ornaments and hand-sewn tree skirts, fresh pine door wreaths, carved wooden manger scenes, scented candles and baked goods of all kinds made her miss her mother, especially family times around the table at holiday time. If the invitation to Kate and Grant’s still held and if Matt was willing, it would be nice to go there soon for dinner. Tess had asked her for Thanksgiving Day next week, and that wasn’t good, because the way she was doing with her pregnancy, Char would probably have to fix the meal. The mere delicious smell of it might make Tess spend her time on the sofa or in the bathroom, anyway.

But what made Char sad but also angry was seeing the long tables staffed by the Hear Ye people. She knew she wouldn’t find Grace there, as pregnant as she was, but she did see Lee amid the others. Maybe she could find a way to talk to him alone.

Even from here, she could see the Hear Ye workers displayed framed Bible verses—probably ones Bright Star was distorting for his own ends. Sewing baskets, holiday aprons, jars of apple butter and jam, baked bread—it all reminded her of pioneer days, and that’s just how those people looked.

She hovered next to a big oak tree that kept its leaves all winter. They rattled in the wind. She stood there, watching the cult faithful, agonizing about how to talk to Lee here, or Grace in private there, maybe get her out of that place to have the baby. But she’d probably never leave if she couldn’t take her children with her. The vibes between Grace and Lee had seemed stiff—almost frozen, but if they knew they were being watched...

Her knees nearly buckled when a voice behind her interrupted her thoughts. “I think you’re one to always see the hole in the doughnut or in the wall. Because of a hole in your life, perhaps?”

She gasped and spun around, though she knew who she would see. Brice “Bright Star” Monson stood there, his pale eyes as piercing as laser beams. He was thin with pale hair, pale skin; his clothes were reminiscent of both Daniel Boone and Buddha. Thank God, she was in the midst of a busy scene with other people, or she would have been afraid. He’d obviously been told she’d spotted his peephole and made a subtle point about it, because he couldn’t mean the arrow hole in her door.

But maybe that arrow hole could be a sort of symbolic peephole, a retaliation for finding the one in his wall earlier that day. Maybe Kate was right that she was looking under the wrong rocks to learn who was behind that arrow.

12

C
har had heard talk of Bright Star Monson’s charisma, but the man repulsed her. Her mind raced to decide how to respond. “I see your people are selling framed calligraphy quotations here,” she said. “Are they about hunting, like the ones hung in that interview room with the peephole?”

“Do not be so swift to judge. I have had the honor of meeting both of your sisters, but I had hoped you would be more reasonable. I believe you are what the world calls a social worker. That is what I do, too, only with deeper intent. That room is where I sometimes place those who are distraught or sad so they can be observed and then cared for, that is all.”

“I find it hard to believe anyone under your care could be distraught or sad.” She tried to stay calm, but the sarcasm was clear. “And cared for, how? I worry about my relatives who are there. The children. Grace being so far along in pregnancy, especially. She needs a doctor for the delivery.”

“Grace is full of grace and very well cared for, as are all the children there. Let the little children come unto me.”

“The Lord said that. Do you make a practice of stepping into his shoes? And am I welcome to visit to see how you care for the children?”

“Of course. Come to the gate in the light.”

That too sounded biblical. Was it? “My sister noticed the quotes about hunting on the walls of that room. How could that give comfort to someone who is sad or upset?”

“Those give comfort to me. Some hunt game or even other people. I am a hunter of souls.”

He smiled. He had yellow teeth. Weird, but something about the moment he looked at her, then turned and moved away reminded her of a wolf she’d faced on a rocky outcrop near a hogan one morning, a gaunt, hungry-looking gray wolf with sick eyes.

Char watched the man walk away and shuddered. He was heading for Brad Mason. She hadn’t noticed he was here, but he waved at her before he huddled with Bright Star. Grant’s younger brother seemed to be everywhere. She’d overheard someone call him “The Fracking Enforcer,” which didn’t seem the right nickname for someone who just sealed deals for drilling property. That’s why Brad knew Bright Star, of course: he’d no doubt arranged the lucrative sale of the old cult site to Royce’s company.

Since Bright Star wasn’t headed back to the cult’s sales tables, she seized the opportunity. Lee was still there, down on the far end where she hoped to have a word with him.

* * *

Matt punched in Char’s cell number. When she picked up, he heard a buzz of voices behind her “Hello? This is Charlene Lockwood.”

“You don’t have caller ID, huh? It’s Matt. I hear noise. Where are you?”

“At the holiday market uptown. You won’t believe who I just talked to.”

“Don’t keep me guessing.”

“Bright Star Monson. He came up to me, knew who I was, so I’ll just bet he was looking through that peephole I told you about. He gives me the creeps, but I’m still going to talk to my cousin Lee who’s here today with the cult members. Anything new?”

“You’re new in my life, and I like that. Sorry I was in a bad mood last night. I talked to Ginger about the arrow, but she says she’s sold lots, so she doesn’t know for sure who had them.”

“Henry Hanson admitted to me he took some she threw away, fixed them, used them. I’m hoping he’s going to drive the mountain school van and make sure his daughter gets to school, so that will help Jemmie and some others, too.”

“Great, but were you up on the mountain again? You shouldn’t go up there alone.”

“Matt, you’re the one who nearly got killed up there, not me.”

“Calm down. As a matter of fact, I wanted to see if you still want to head up to see the McKitricks this afternoon with me. Where did you see Hanson?”

“He was at the gas station near Lake Azure. His daughter had described my truck and license number to him. She’s a sharp little cookie.”

“You’ve heard what they say in police work, haven’t you? There’s no such thing as coincidence.”

“I hear you. I thought of that. What time do you want to go up Pinecrest again?”

“The earlier the better, because the weather forecast says significant snow is coming.”

“I’ll talk to Lee right now and meet you at the lodge. I can drive up the mountain, so—”

“Royce not only sprang for a school van but a new company truck is here already. When you fall off a horse, you get back on, remember?”

“So you want to drive?”

“Right. And Char, be careful talking to Lee. I don’t care if he is your cousin. He’s also under the spell of that guru.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised and hung up.

I’ll be careful.
He’d told that to Royce just an hour ago when he decided to drive the new truck up the mountain. Royce had said, “Famous last words, so you better mean it.”

* * *

“Oh, hi, Char,” Lee said as she stood before him at the long table of homemade goods. She picked up a hand-dipped dark green candle and, talking low, pretended to study it. “It’s going to snow, you know,” he added.

“He tries to snow everyone he talks to, doesn’t he? Did you see me talking to your leader?”

“I did. He’s something, isn’t he? Such wisdom.” He said those words loudly, so she figured the man standing down the table a short way might be listening. Did these people all spy on each other?

“Lee,” she said in a quiet voice, “Bright Star’s initials are B.S., so don’t forget that. How is Grace doing—really?”

“Nervous about the birth, of course. She had a bit of trouble last time.”

“She needs a hospital, a doctor, maybe a specialist.”

“I’ve been assured the midwife is very good.”

“B.S. said she’s full of grace, and Kate told me he said she had been chosen. Chosen for what? What’s going on?” When the cult member down the way glanced at them, she raised her voice. “I’d love to have two of these green candles, please. No one hand dips candles anymore. It’s kind of like the Colonial days.”

Lee took two candles from the table and pulled a sheet of newspaper from under the table to wrap them.
Bright Star allowed outside news in the cult?

“It’s going to snow soon and quite a lot, I think,” Lee repeated, his voice loud, too. “The sky looks heavy with it. I hope you’ll get to see the creek near your old house before it freezes—Cold Creek will soon be ice creek, you know,” he said and forced a laugh.

She laughed, too, but she was crying inside. Her kin were living in a nightmare world with a wolf in charge who wore sheep’s—or shepherd’s—clothing. But why refer to seeing the creek near her old house, near where Matt had said he’d looked around below the cliff with all the fracking?

“Lee, if I take a look at the creek, you mean to see the beaver there, don’t you?” she asked quietly, just to keep him talking.

“Yes, that’s where you’ll see the water,” he whispered as he put the candles in a plain brown sack, making a lot of crinkling noises. “Maybe you’ll have to go ice fishing, chip through the ice. Here,” he added in a loud voice, “since you asked for a receipt, I’ll write one out for you.”

He scribbled something on the corner of a page of newspaper and tore it off. She paid him. He put the piece of newspaper in the sack with the candles and handed it to her. She knew there must be some sort of message on that paper, hopefully something about Grace or about meeting with him again.

She walked off the square and way down the street to her car without glancing in the sack. She had the strangest feeling she was being watched. A quick glance back before she got in the driver’s seat showed several people coming her way, but no one really watching and no cult members in sight. In her car, she locked the doors and dug out the piece of newspaper.

“Poison water,”
the scribbling read. “Bright Star—Big bucks.” She looked carefully at the printing. Did it look like that found on the note in Matt’s burned-out truck?

* * *

“Poison water?” Char asked Matt again as he drove them up the mountain in the new, dark blue Lake Azure truck. “I realize Bright Star got a lot of money from selling the old cult site for fracking to EEC, but what’s with the poison water?”

“Could he mean cult members are drugged through holy water they drink or something like that? It’s beyond me how that lunatic can keep so many people in line. I remember my dad talking about that Jim Jones religious cult from back in the ’70s. He used drugs and probably drugged his followers. He claimed to be God and ended up coercing about nine hundred of his flock to kill themselves with cyanide-laced grape juice—men, women, children.”

“I wish you hadn’t said that. I’ve got to get Grace out of there, and since Lee is warning me about—something—maybe he can grab his kids and leave, too. But you don’t think his printing on the newspaper is the same as that found in your truck?”

“Hard to tell. We can give it to Gabe and have him check it out. We don’t want to jump to conclusions, and why would Bright Star send Lee or anyone else to knock me off the mountain? I’d say he’s in tight with Royce after that huge purchase and wouldn’t want to cross him by hurting me.”

“Yeah. Lee’s note suggests Royce and Bright Star owe each other. I’ve got to visit the Hear Ye cult again, though it’s the last place I want to go. But the other thing Lee was trying to say was something about the water near the old cult land, the area you were at the other day. He said he hoped I’d get to see the creek there before it freezes, and he made a joke about ice fishing—like fishing for answers?”

“Since he’s so familiar with it there, it makes me wonder who that hunting stand I saw could belong to. Maybe the cult? Do they hunt for food?”

“Tess said they do. Back to the past, back to the old days. You can tell that from the way they dress. Anyway, I’ll take you up on your earlier offer to see those beaver dams and the water there. He could mean there’s some runoff from the fracking.”

“They try to be really careful with that. The wastewater, which can be toxic, is shipped out in tanker trucks to be cleaned and then recycled. If the snow we’re expecting is not too heavy, maybe we can check out Cold Creek soon—together.”

“I do like the sound of that,” she told him. “Let’s just hope right now we can get Sam’s permission for Jemmie to take the van down to school starting next week. Royce left a message for me that Orlando went to Columbus to get the van. Monday can be the first day it’s used, but you might know there will be snow on the ground by then. Maybe not an easy start for Henry Hanson as the new driver. Matt, why do you keep looking in the rearview mirror? Is someone behind us?”

“I glimpsed a truck a couple of curves back.”

“Does it look like the one that hit you?”

“It’s black, but can’t tell. So many look alike. I can only see it creeping up the mountain on curves when I look down and back. Okay, here’s the McKitrick turnoff. And here’s hoping we find Sam at home for you to talk to and Jemmie for me. We need to get Sam on board for this and not just get his wife’s permission. The guy could still be volatile if someone crosses him.”

The old coonskin cap lay on the console between them. Gabe had returned it after checking it for any evidence, but it had been out in the elements too long to be useful. She saw Matt had cleaned it up, brushed it to get the dirt off. A strange heirloom, but maybe not up here on the mountain.

They got out, and Jemmie, with his dog at his heels, came out to greet them. Adela followed, drying her hands on a towel. There was no sign of Sam at first, but he suddenly limped, almost slouching, from the line of trees—with a weapon in his hands again. No, it was a pair of binoculars. They all met on the front porch.

“Guess what?” Jemmie blurted. “Dad’s got glasses that can see in the dark, and he showed me how cool that is last night!”

“Very cool,” Matt said. “Night vision goggles?”

“Right,” Sam said, holding them up. “You never know who’s out there.”

“That’s for sure,” Matt said.

Char looked at the binoculars Sam handed to his son. On them she read, Nemesis, but she couldn’t get the other word. She saw Adela crying as she reached out and touched the coonskin cap.

“You found it,” she whispered. “The sheriff had it?”

“No,” Matt told her, putting a hand on her thin shoulder. “Char and I found it up on the hill quite a ways from where Woody was working, far from where he fell.”

Sam snorted as if to dismiss that, so Char wondered if he, too, suspected foul play. And had he gotten along with his father, a hardworking man who, Matt had said, could not accept that his able-bodied son Sam was too sick to hold a job because of emotional problems?

“Sam, I hope you don’t mind, but Woody told me more than once that this hat was for Jemmie,” Matt said. “I want to give him this, and Charlene has another gift, if you’ll agree.”

Sam stood up straighter. He and Matt looked eye to eye, with Adela and Char hovering and Jemmie looking on.

“Sure,” Sam said. “I care for my boy, more’n my pa did for me.”

Adela began to cry again. Matt got down on one knee to Jemmie’s height and put the cap on his head. “Now you know that your grandpa loved you, thought the world of you,” Matt told him. “And he wanted you to have his favorite cap but also to get good schooling. There’s a special bus Miss Charlene here has arranged to pick you up right down on the road and to bring you back from school, so I hope that’s okay with you and your parents.”

“Mandy Lee flew the coop,” Sam said as Char held her breath. “But us chickens say ‘Let’s give it a try,’ don’t we, Ma?”

“Oh, yes. That would be real good,” Adela said, her voice breaking as Matt got to his feet.

“And I’ll escort him that far, be sure there’s no scouts or insurgents around,” Sam promised, looking as if he believed every word of that. “Damn IEDs can blow a man to bits.” Though it was broad daylight, he took the night vision binoculars from his son and headed out into the trees, crouching again as if he would spring at someone.

As soon as he disappeared, Jemmie hugged Matt. Char was so happy she could have hugged him, too. “This cap will be kind of like Grandpa’s with me,” the boy said. “I don’t want to forget him, how he was like a dad to me when Pa was gone, but don’t tell Pa I said so, okay, Mr. Matt?”