Broken Bonds (23 page)

“I’m trying to build bridges, Orlando, not burn them—and not get another lecture from you. I know how valuable you are to him, so I regret telling you off after you followed Char and me up on Pinecrest.”

Orlando’s cue ball broke the new triangle of balls with a click and a series of muted thuds. “Believe me, I had better things to do. But how valuable am I to him? Let’s just say I’m working on that. It’s you who is sitting on a fortune and don’t seem to know it. You could actually use someone like me to help you out.”

“You mean, running Lake Azure?”

“I mean,” he said, slamming the big end of his cue stick on the floor, “that you’re the chosen one, the golden boy. You’re his heir to everything, and I think you should start acting like it, go along with what he does, who he likes. And yeah, that means you and me have to get along good, so thanks for the handshake and the apology.”

“I do value all he’s done for me, our relationship.”

“If so, you’d back everything he does and that means the fracking. It’s not enough to chat with the Green Tree bunch to get them out of here. He has enemies, so maybe they went after you.”

“Listen, Orlando, I don’t have to—”

“I’m out of here,” he insisted, punching his cue stick back into the rack on the wall. “See you when we get back. I’m having turkey dinner with my widowed sister, but maybe you and I can talk turkey when we get back.”

Without another look or word, the man strode out.

Matt leaned stiff-armed on the edge of the pool table, staring at the scattered balls.
You’re his heir to everything?
Did Orlando mean in Royce’s will, or that he was executor of his estate or what? Why did Orlando know stuff like that if he didn’t? Because Royce wanted Matt to care for him for other reasons?

He jumped when his cell rang. He dug it out of his shirt pocket. He saw it was Gabe calling.

“Gabe, it’s late. Everything okay?”

“If you call eighty-seven members of a religious cult going nuts okay. Bright Star’s missing. Several of the Hear Ye brethren who called me insist he’s ascended into heaven and won’t be back.”

25

“B
right Star’s missing?” Matt asked Gabe. “No clues where he’s gone?”

“I’m going out there now. I called Char. This may be a ploy to flush her out, so I told her to stay put until I get a handle on this. But I think his flock is genuinely upset. Some of them aren’t even making sense, but what’s new about that? One guy, Brother Stephen, said like he must have gone out to meet with Moses and Elijah and flew away, ascended from the mountain.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to stage something like that.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

“Gabe, if he’s hiding out for some reason, maybe he’s down by the river under the fracking site. You know, in that hut with the quote about Jonah gone missing in the belly of the whale.”

“I can’t stage a manhunt for him right now. Technically, I haven’t even served him with a warrant. I’ll see what I can get out of his people about where he might go.”

When Matt strode out into the hall and headed for his car, he saw Orlando in the dim lobby on his cell phone. It was so dark out here that the phone’s light threw shadows on his face. Orlando glanced up, ended the call and came over.

“You said you were sorry for coming down on me before,” Orlando told him. “I’d like to apologize for lecturing you. For jumping on you about Royce. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell him.”

“Sure,” Matt said, “as long as what he’s doing is right and good.”

“Of course, it is. You know that.”

Matt was tempted to tell Orlando that Bright Star was missing, but he’d tell Royce in the morning and let Orlando find out from him. As he went out to his car, he felt some weight had been lifted from his shoulders. If Bright Star had taken off because of possible charges against him, maybe poor Grace Lockwood and her kids could come back soon. And his disappearance—if it held up—made Char a whole lot safer.

* * *

Word about Bright Star spread like wildfire through the Cold Creek community, mostly because the cult members went door-to-door at first light, asking if anyone had seen their leader. Grant answered the door when the bell rang, but Kate and Char stayed out of the line of vision of a man Char recognized from the night Grace had fled the commune.

“Well,” Kate said with a sniff after Grant closed the door, “if they’re asking all over for him, they certainly don’t think he ascended to heaven.”

“More like he went in the other direction,” Char said as they walked back to the breakfast table. “Maybe we will have something extra to be grateful for tomorrow.”

“Gabe thinks the guy’s on the lam because Grace was going to bring charges,” Grant said. “I just hope he either gets caught and arrested or gets far away from here and doesn’t hang out, lurking. And that the cult doesn’t keep blaming you, Char, since you’re here as a target and Grace is not.”

“I don’t think any of that body of worshippers would dare make a move without their master,” Char told him. “He does all the thinking for them. I’ll feel a lot better going around the area if Gabe locks him up or finds out he’s run. Good riddance. I’ll bet he had a fortune squirreled away from his Hear Ye members who gave up all their earthly goods to him. Lee and Grace did. Then he got a fortune for selling that land to EEC for fracking. Without him, maybe the cult will disband and the land and buildings can go for something to help the mountain kids, like a park or a summer camp.”

After they got up to clear the breakfast table, Kate put her arm around Char. “I thought you were going to ask Matt for something like that at Lake Azure with the swimming area, canoes and the stables he says they’ll build. If he promised that to poor little Ethan, maybe he’d go along with it for more—and with you to run everything there.”

Char sighed. “I’d love that. And I guess you know I love him. Maybe, at last, things are looking up.”

* * *

Char dared to believe that Thanksgiving Day would bring blessings. Her sisters and their loved ones were together in the lovely setting of a wood-paneled private room at the Lake Azure lodge and didn’t have to do all the preparation for the meal. Even Gabe seemed temporarily relaxed. He’d found no trace of Bright Star. No Hear Ye vehicle was missing, so he hadn’t been able to let the Highway Patrol know what to look for. They’d phoned Grace to tell her, and, since there was no way Bright Star could know where she was, she was ecstatic.

“It’s too late for Lee,” Grace had told them on Matt’s speakerphone. “But maybe someone else at Hear Ye got fed up with Bright Star and did him in. Can’t imagine who, though. They were all either buffaloed by or scared of him, just like me. Tess, I think I’ll be sending for you soon. This baby’s getting ready, I can tell. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, the name will be Lee, after his—or her—father.”

Char had noticed she’d said that emphatically. Yet she’d admitted privately that the baby could be Bright Star’s. But as she’d said, too, it wasn’t the baby’s fault, and she was the mother. Char scolded herself for thinking of that old horror film
Rosemary’s Baby,
where Mia Farrow bore the Devil’s child and then loved it, anyway.

“Char, you okay, sweetheart?” Matt asked and put his arm around her waist as they gathered at the table for the meal to be brought in. “Tess will be with her when the baby comes. Grace will be all right, and so are we, okay? No troubles today and good times to come.”

“And good turkey,” Gabe said as the servers carried in the bird and the fixings. Char recalled that Matt had said Orlando had promised to “talk turkey,” whatever that meant, when he and Royce came back, but today, she told herself, Matt was right. Enjoy the day.

Matt had called both of his sisters and their families—one in Florida, one in Illinois—and told them about Char. She herself was with her loved ones. All, that is, but Dad and his young family out West, but they had talked to all of them, too, and they were coming to Kate’s wedding. Yes, today was a lovely day.

They said a prayer, and Matt carved the bird perfectly, as if he’d been born to it. He was a wonderful host, but then, that was part of his career here. Watching how adeptly he wielded the big knife, Char forced away the image of the Hear Ye brother with a knife. The cut to her hand could have been so much worse.

“We’re going to plan more of Kate and Grant’s wedding this evening,” Tess told Gabe, who wore civilian clothes instead of his sheriff’s uniform. “December’s almost here.” Tess was finally eating for two to make up for hardly being able to eat anything.

Grant stopped ladling gravy on his potatoes and dressing. “Matt,” he said, “I was going to ask you this in private, but a fraternity brother of mine can’t be an usher in the wedding, so I’m hoping you could fill in for him. The big day’s Saturday, December 17, evening service at the Community Church in old town, reception at the house. If you say yes, I can promise you a very attractive, and as yet unattached, bridesmaid to partner.”

“I’m honored,” he said. “Count me in.”

“Warning! Tuxedo alert, tuxedo alert!” Gabe said in a falsetto voice.

“At least,” Grant said, grinning, “I talked Dr. Kate Lockwood out of everyone dressing like the ancient Adena.”

“Not true!” she responded. “But I won’t embarrass you by tossing a roll at you.”

Tess, then Gabe started tapping their goblets with utensils as people did at a wedding to make the wedded pair kiss. Matt and Char, laughing, joined in too until Kate and Grant kissed.

“Mmm,” Grant said, “she tastes of tart cranberry sauce, which I skipped. Pass that, would you, Matt?”

“That was my lipstick,” Kate said while everyone else laughed again.

“It’s like family already,” Tess said. “And next year we’ll have a baby to take care of between main course and dessert. Maybe Grace and her kids will be back here, too.”

Char was so happy she couldn’t think of one other thing to say. Yet what if Bright Star was lurking? She hoped Ginger wasn’t harboring hatred for Matt, not to mention what he’d said about Orlando telling him off again. And she kept picturing Sam McKitrick out in one of his haunts, as Mandy Lee had put it, laboring over an old pickup truck that didn’t run.

Haunted by fears she fought to push aside, she told herself it was great to be happy, laughing with the others. She only hoped the food baskets that two churches and Lake Azure residents had donated for needy mountain families had blessed them with a good day, too.

Joe Fencer had told Matt that Mandy Lee was going to visit Jemmie and her mountain family tomorrow, and she’d asked if Char wanted to go along. Since Joe and Sara Ann were going along and Adele and Jemmie would be on the mountain, Char and Matt had figured that would be enough people to keep Sam—or even Bright Star—in check or at a distance.

“A toast to future good times together for the six of us,” Matt said, and raised his wineglass.

They all lifted theirs, Tess with grapefruit juice in hers.
Oh,
Char thought,
if only that toast could come true.

They all clinked glasses, and the sound rang in her ears.

* * *

Char felt exhausted the next morning. The six of them had stayed up late, just talking after their Thanksgiving meal. Sometimes it was all of them, sometimes the men together, while the women discussed the wedding. Matt had kissed her a quick good-night after midnight just before Kate and Grant scooped her up to take her to their place again. This morning Grant had dropped her at the lodge where Joe Fencer, his wife, Sara Ann and Mandy Lee said they’d pick her up for their jaunt up Pinecrest. Char was grateful to be included and not a bit afraid with Joe along, partly because Matt trusted him.

“It’s really somethin’,” Mandy Lee said from the backseat next to Char. “I mean, Jemmie just starts school and gets two days off—a four-day weekend. Too much time to spend with his pa.”

“We should be grateful they get along. More than I can say for Sam and his dad,” Joe said.

“Mandy Lee, will you be moving with Joe and Sara Ann or moving back home?” Char asked.

“To be decided today.” She wore her hair down, but kept twisting it around her index finger, yanking it hard. “I owe my kin a lot, but it’s my closest family that’s needs me. I know that.”

Char reached over and patted her arm. The young woman gave her a wan smile.

The truth was, Char was nervous, too. She hoped she could get some answers today about whether Sam was really sick or not. She wanted to trust Henry’s observations, yet Sam had seemed off-kilter to her, and her career as a social worker had given her skills for psyching out when someone was lying. Was Sam another version of B.S., “the master,” who could con people into believing him?

Char averted her gaze when they passed Coyote Rock. She fought the memory of Matt almost going off the cliff there—and how Brad Mason had said at dinner the other night that everyone was too close to the edge. The edge of what? She should have called him on that. Of danger? Insanity? Death?

The moment they turned into the narrow lane to the McKitrick place, Joe honked. Jemmie ran out onto the porch and into the yard with his dog right behind him. “Ma, Ma,” he cried and hugged Mandy Lee as soon as she got out of the car. “I’m in school now, gonna work real hard!”

His mother hugged him so long that Char blinked back tears. Out West, even working with the darling Navajo kids, she hadn’t yearned for a child herself, but here, lately...

“Miss Charlene told me all ’bout it,” Mandy Lee told her son. “Now you say proper hi to your uncle and aunt.”

The boy hugged them both, then Char, too, before he went back to holding his mother’s hand. His grandmother had come out on the porch, waving and sweeping snow off the crooked boards with a broom. Sam materialized from behind some pines trees and headed slowly toward them with his shoulders hunched and his limp even more pronounced than before.

“A surprise,” he called to them, scanning the area. “But it’s dangerous for civilians to be in enemy territory. Better get inside to cover.”

Char noticed he held a big wrench in one hand. Had he been working on the truck Mandy Lee had mentioned or was it another of his imaginary weapons against terrorists?

“And a visitor who’s not family,” he observed, staring at Char as they walked toward the house. “I hope, ma’am,” he said to her, “you’ve got official clearance because we need to be very watchful for suicide bombers—even women these days.”

“No, Pa, she’s okay,” Jemmie piped up. “I know her, and you met Miss Charlene before. She’s gonna tell us kids about Indians out West sometime. I thought I should know ’bout them ’case we visit them.”

Sam’s narrow gaze slammed into Char’s stare. For a moment, neither of them flinched, neither looked away. His eyes were a pale blue, steady but disturbing in a different way from Bright Star’s. She tried to read whether Sam was rational or not.

“Still can’t be too careful with the enemy around, right, Mandy Lee?” Sam said, looking at his wife.

“Well, course that’s right, Sam, but I don’t want you takin’ our boy on no trips out West.”

Adela put her arm around her daughter-in-law. “We sure hope Mandy Lee will see fit to come home, don’t we, Sam? For Jemmie, for all of us. We’ll keep her safe, welcome her back, give her time to adjust, won’t we, Sam?”

“Sure, sure. Come on in. This is a safe house. I checked it out more than once, but Joe—ha, G.I. Joe—keep an eye on the door, okay?”

Adela served them yeast rolls, jam and coffee while they sat on a bench and stools around the low-burning fireplace. When Char got up to help her, Adela gave her a smile and a nod.

“You’re pretty close to Matt, right?” the old woman asked in a quiet voice with a glance back into the room as if to be sure no one was listening.

“Yes,” Char said, matching her whisper. “I think the world of him. We haven’t known each other long but we’re getting closer all the time.”

Adela nodded as she piled oven-hot rolls on a plate. “You tell him something for me I held back, ’cause I know Mr. Flemming be like a daddy to him. And don’t go tell no one else I said it, just pick the right time.”

Char’s eyes widened. “I promise.”

“That Mr. Flemming and his man, Orlando, done come up here to offer my Woody a bundle of money to quit his protesting the fracking down yonder. Woody, he turned them right down, and was they surprised and riled over it, too. That Mr. Orlando come back up. Woody wouldn’t talk to him no more so Sam did, talked him into leaving but talked to him a long time first, he sure did. See, I know some folks think Sam mighta hurt his pa ’cause they argued things, didn’t see eye to eye about Sam’s sickness, all that. I never wanted to make no claims to it, but Mr. Flemming and that Orlando man of his, they were riled at Woody, too, I swear it. You think it’s important, you tell Matt. Let him decide whether to tell someone else like the sheriff.”