Broken Bonds (20 page)

Char reached across the corner of the table and took Tess’s hand with her uninjured one. “I can’t believe I found someone here in good old Cold Creek. But there are complications, things happening right and left, things that could be trouble, despite wonderful things like all of us being together at Thanksgiving at the lodge. I’m glad everyone agreed to that. I’m sure Kate will, too, when she gets back. It’s something to look forward to in all this.”

“But as Vic said last night, you have to be careful. I think that master manipulator Bright Star’s a coward, but his yes-men robots could be dangerous. Just remember Gabe told you that ‘I’ll be careful’ are famous last words—I almost learned that the hard way and Kate did, too.”

“Then how about I’ll be very, extraordinarily, extremely, overly, really careful?” Char asked. “Good things are happening up on Pinecrest Mountain today, and I’m going to be there to see them!”

22

W
hen it was barely light, Matt picked up Char at Gabe and Tess’s and drove her to retrieve her truck, which she’d forgotten about during the chaos last night. As they walked toward it, hidden among pines not far off the road, they saw the back tires had been slashed.

Char gasped. “Those Hear Ye vandals had to look hard to find it!” she cried, stomping around all four sides of the truck. The front tires were cut, too. She saw footprints she hadn’t made, apparently only one other pair, going off into the trees. “I’m going to check if there’s a note on it, or if they even scratched something in the paint.”

“No, you’re not. Get back in my car.” He grabbed her arm and hustled her away. “Think! They found your hidden truck, so they could be hiding here, waiting for you to come get it.” He unlocked the door and pushed her back in the passenger seat. He strode around to the driver’s side, got in, slammed his door and locked them in. He backed out onto the road, then sped off until they were a good mile away before he pulled over.

“I wasn’t thinking, either,” he told her. “I keep wanting to deny how bad this could be. We could have walked right into a trap. All we need is another arrow coming at us. Grace told Gabe that Bright Star has forbidden guns, but some of the cult members hunt with arrows and recurve bows.”

“But the two incidents with arrows came before I caused them any trouble, so how could it be them behind it? I’ll bet they hunt beavers, though. Remember I told you about all those hunt quotes Bright Star had all over the walls? And I know from close up and personal that they have knives to slash tires.” She frowned at her bandaged hand.

“The bastards knew you had a vehicle out here somewhere since you and your family fled with Gabe.” He took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket while he let the car idle. “After helping Grace last night, you’ve got to be more careful than we even imagined.”

“But if that maniac strikes out at me, it would be so obvious who did it.”

“I think we’ve seen he’s willing to sacrifice useful members like Lee, even risk poisoning others to make a death look like an accident. What scares me is that he’d think nothing of getting rid of a nonbeliever like you—the infidel enemy.”

“But he’s a coward.”

“So he uses robot slaves,” he argued, punching in a phone number he had on speed dial. “We’re both exhausted, not thinking straight. Worse, if someone was after me before, you’ve got a target on your back now, maybe just not from the same source.”

“Are you calling Gabe?”

“You bet I am.”

Char pictured the viciously slashed tires. She struggled to calm her shock and anger, control her fear. Matt was right. She had to be more wary, but she hated to run scared. At least he’d handled everything back there, so she could rely on him. Actually, someone had done him a favor because he didn’t want her driving anywhere alone, and now the only wheels she had were slashed, just like her hand.

* * *

After arranging for Gabe to send someone to inspect and tow Char’s truck, Matt drove them to the lodge. He found he had an upset home owner waiting to see him so Char sat down in a rocking chair by a planter in the lobby to wait for Henry Hanson. The new van he would drive was still parked out front. She’d seen a truck that looked like his, too, so he was probably in the restroom or just waiting for the time he’d said he’d begin their run up the mountain.

Three students would be picked up today, Penny Hanson, Jemmie McKitrick and Bethany Antrim, but Char hoped there would be five or six next week. She had more to visit if she could get four new truck tires and, if Matt had his way, a full-time bodyguard. Maybe she could talk Henry into driving her in the van to talk to other mountain families. At least she could afford to pay for his gas if not his time. She didn’t want to ask Royce for more, not now, anyway.

She was exhausted, and the winter sun coming in through the lobby window felt so good that she almost nodded off, but she snapped alert when her head bobbed. From down the hall the other way, toward the back, she heard Royce’s voice. He was up early, but then Matt had said Royce was leaving with Orlando tomorrow for Thanksgiving in Columbus, so maybe he had a lot to get done here first. She’d like to thank him for the school van again before he went, remind him today was the first day his generosity would benefit the mountain kids. She wondered if he’d heard what had happened last night. If he and Bright Star still communicated, maybe he’d heard about it from him.

She felt a stab of remorse as she hefted her big bag over her shoulder and headed toward Royce’s office. Here she was, helping Matt to possibly prove pollution caused by the fracking. If that came out, would Royce blame her, take the van back, leave poor Henry unemployed again?

Then she realized the other voice was Henry’s, so maybe Royce was wishing him the best or telling him to be careful. Matt could have put Royce up to that, because she knew he didn’t want her going up on Pinecrest, even before she defied Bright Star.

She leaned against the wall, not wanting to interrupt the two men. But she stood alert as Royce’s words floated to her. “Just remember, the extra cash means you’ll take care of Charlene, too.”

“Oh, yes, sir. Got that loud and clear. Well, better get out to meet her. I’ll report in later.”

Char hustled down the hall, so she wouldn’t be seen hovering. She didn’t know whether to be comforted or incensed.
Take care of her
could mean two opposite things. Royce was paying Henry a decent salary for only two drives a day, so what was with the extra cash?

Pulling on her coat, she hurried outside into the sun and cold wind. She couldn’t barge in on Matt right now to tell him what she’d overheard. He’d stop her from going at all. Should she refuse to go? No, she was paranoid. She’d already decided she could trust Henry, and this didn’t change that. He had clearly and openly explained that he did have some of Ginger’s arrows, and why. She felt they had come to a good agreement and for good reasons. It was all set up for her to go with him today. Everyone from Gabe to Matt, now to Royce, knew about that. She was just exhausted, seeing danger behind every tree.

But then, there were a lot of trees up on Pinecrest.

* * *

Although Char hadn’t noticed it, Henry’s daughter, Penny, was sitting in his truck, waiting for him to unlock the new van. As he joined Char outside the lodge, he waved to the girl.

“Said I’d pick her up later each morning,” he explained. “But she was so excited she come clear down with me just for today.” He unlocked the van doors, and Penny came barreling out of their old truck with what looked to be a fairly empty backpack. Then Char saw Henry had also brought one of his sons—let’s see, his name was Crayton—though Char hadn’t registered him since the boy made it to school now and then. But this was perfect. Next year Henry’s son Simon could ride this van, too, if there were any seats left. She’d had to promise the elementary school principal that all the kids would wear seat belts when she’d submitted the legal permission papers for Henry to drive.

“I’m glad to meet you, Crayton, and see Penny again!” Char said with a pat on Penny’s shoulder. “Climb on in the second seat and put your seat belts on.” She turned to Henry. “But in weather like this, if they ride down with you in the morning, bring them into the lobby to wait where it’s warm.”

“Sure. Didn’t know if that was okay. Don’t you fret none. Didn’t plan on taking time talking to Mr. Flemming today. Real kind of him to wish me good luck and all. Beholden to both of you.”

Henry’s admission that he’d talked to Royce, and Penny’s crooked-toothed grin soothed Char’s nerves. Henry wasn’t trying to hide something dire from her. It wasn’t his way. After the terrible happenings yesterday—with the good result of Grace and her kids being free—everything would surely go great today.

* * *

By the time Matt solved the home owner’s problem, Char was gone with Henry in the new van. He went back to his office and called Clint Parsons in Columbus. They didn’t spend much time talking about the old days.

“Clint, any chance you could come down real soon to retest the water? I know with the holiday this week it’s a bad time, but a lot of folks’ well-being could be at stake. I’ll feed you well at the lodge, be glad to pay for gas and your time. I feel like I’m sitting on a tinderbox with this situation.”

“I can see why. Each well the frackers dig uses between three million to seven million gallons of water, and then wastewater has to be put into disposal wells and holding tanks until it can be shipped away. The risk of contaminating the aquifer, let alone surface water, is huge. But unless you want to get someone else involved—and then keeping this quiet for a while longer could be a problem—I can’t come until Saturday. Susan and I are taking the kids to her parents’ house in Cleveland for Thanksgiving, and won’t be back until Saturday morning. I could drive down then, see you for lunch, and we’ll take those samples.”

“Great. I can’t thank you enough. Meet me at the lodge.”

“Listen, Matt, I know that’s old coal country nearby, right?”

“For sure. Some strip mining around, but up in the hills—the nearest would be Pinecrest Mountain—there used to be a lot of shaft mining.”

“Okay, here’s the deal with that. Fracking’s getting the media spotlight lately, but runoff pollution from coal mining has caused water problems for years—dead fish and on up the food chain.”

Despite that terrible news, Matt breathed a sigh of relief. That could be it. Coal mining runoff. Then Royce and his fracking would not be to blame. But it was probably wishful—desperate—thinking since that fracking site was right above the polluted water.

“The thing is,” Clint went on, “it’s highly unlikely that the contaminants from coal mining and fracking would be the same. We’ll see.”

Yeah,
Matt thought,
we’ll see about a lot of things.
Was he crazy to try to protect and excuse Royce? But even more than that, he’d give anything now to protect his stubborn sweetheart Char.

* * *

After they picked up Jemmie and Bethany, Char noticed the kids handled their excitement in different ways. Penny acted really shy, even when Bethany tried to befriend her. The two girls pretty much ignored Crayton, who was humming, and Jemmie McKitrick seemed almost giddy.

“Want to hear something funny, Miss Charlene?” he asked from the seat behind her.

“Sure. Let’s hear it.”

“My Pa still works for Uncle Sam and his name’s Sam, like he was named for him, he says.”

“But he’s out of the army now, ain’t he, boy?” Henry asked.

“Still getting a big paycheck,” Jemmie boasted. “’Cause he’s sick, needs vitamins and all that.”

Char heard Henry give a snort. He shook his head, but Jemmie wasn’t to be deterred. “Someday soon just him and me’s going on a trip out West to see Indians and a rodeo, but I’ll miss my mom. Miss Charlene, if you see her down in town, would you tell her I’m in school and I’m gonna work hard, ’least till Pa and I head out?”

“I’ll try to see her real soon, Jemmie. My truck is broken right now with bad tires. But if you’re going out West to see Indians—only during your summer vacation so you don’t miss school—I’ll tell you all sometime about the Navajo tribe and where to find them out West.”

“Aw, great. I’ll tell Pa. I hope there’s trees out there. He has a really neat suit with leaves stuck to it, tree colors but he says it don’t work good in the winter when he’s on patrol, ’cept at night.”

“An army camo Ghillie suit,” Henry put in. “I seen him in it with his gear.”

“All right, here we are,” Char told them as Henry turned into the driveway of the consolidated district elementary school. “Mr. Hanson’s going to pick you up at this same spot after school, so take a good look at the van again when you get out. Since this is your first day, I’m going to take you in and have you meet the principal.”

“Even when we didn’t do nothing wrong?” Jemmie asked.

“Even when you didn’t do
anything
wrong,” she repeated, hoping the kids would pick up on the correct grammar. “The principal’s office is for all kinds of good things, too,” she added as she got out and slid the van door open for Jemmie and Crayton as Henry let the girls out the other side.

Penny hugged her father goodbye, though her younger brother hurried ahead. Henry gave Char a big, proud smile. Oh, yes, she just knew she could trust Henry Hanson. Things were working out so well, at least here.

Penny slipped her hand into Char’s. “I brought the crayons you gave me,” she whispered, taking little skipping steps. “Can’t wait to color something real pretty, and it will be for you.”

Char blinked back tears. All she’d been through with needy kids lately made her want to cry. Oh, yeah, she was as needy as they were, to help them, to keep herself safe. And above all, for the first time in her life, she needed a man, and that tore down the walls she’d built up around herself for years, maybe ever since her father deserted the family years ago.

The ringing school bell jolted her as the five of them went into the busy building together.

* * *

“You know,” Henry said as he drove Char back to the lodge, “truth is, Jemmie’s pa Sam’s sane as they come, only crazy like a fox. Sly like one, too.”

“I’ve met him—twice,” she said. “He seemed really strange. His family says he still has PTSD and acts really weird, looking for terrorists at all hours.”

“Naw. ‘Acts’ is right. Seen him in his right mind. Got him a good con going, bilking the gov’ment, not that lots of others don’t. His pa, Woody, was onto it, said Sam was just getting out of a job once he got home, drawing pay he wasn’t working for. They got into it pretty bad. His wife, Mandy Lee, she done smelled a rat, too, I bet, gone down to her Fencer kin, and that rat is Sam McKitrick. Why, bet he’s even conning his boy. Going out West to see Indians and go to a rodeo—baloney.”

Was Sam crazy like a fox or one of hundreds of traumatized former soldiers? Char wondered. If his strange behavior was an act, that was shameful, considering what some vets were still going through. He was cheating those mentally wounded soldiers as much as the government.