Authors: Karen Harper
He nodded and stood, brushing bark off his hands. They sat in the front pew, silent at first.
“Grant, I met old Mr. Custer and his daughter.”
“Now, there’s one who goes way back. Sam’s ancestors probably knew the original Falls family that pioneered this area.”
“He said he knew your dad and grandfather. And he said a funny thing...that your grandpa once
looked into
Mason Mound. He even knew the year.”
Grant fought not to react, but he was upset to hear that Sam Custer knew Grandpa had entered the mound. Dad had learned about it, since he was in the discussion Grant had overheard years ago. Grandpa had been so awed and scared by what he’d seen inside the mound that he hadn’t touched anything—unlike his grandsons years later.
He cleared his throat. “I wish my folks had lived into their nineties like Sam Custer. But Sam gets pretty mixed up on things.”
“He said it was 1939. He seems pretty clear when he gets that far back. His exact words were he
looked into
it.
”
“He must mean Grandpa got information on it somehow—checked out what the mound was—might be. When he learned it could be a burial spot, he obviously decided to honor the dead and passed that idea on to Dad and me. After all, we wouldn’t go digging up graves where we buried Paul today, so the ancients deserve the same respect.”
“Sorry to bring it up today.
Looked into
could mean they studied it, of course. Did you ever come across any notes on it, something like that?”
“No. Kate, you’ve got to let up on this. If I were you, I’d spend my time trying to nail Bright Star for leaving his own relics on the mounds, see if you can rattle his cage and maybe pry your cousin’s family out of that cult, one that’s hurting modern people.”
“I intend to do that, too. I know you’re grieving and have a lot on your mind. I shouldn’t have brought this up now.”
“Thanks for understanding. Your support means a lot and—”
He saw a big shadow on the wall, turned and stood. It was his forklift operator from the mill, Keith Simons.
“Keith. What is it?”
“Sorry, boss. Just noticed you were gone awhile and wanted to check that you’re okay. But I see you’re well taken care of. Again, my regrets for the loss of your friend. See you at work tomorrow.”
And he was gone.
“He moves fast for such a big guy,” Kate observed. “And I’m glad you have someone watching out for you there, even if you are the big man on your own campus.”
“We’d better get back downstairs before everyone else looks for me or leaves, okay?” he said, trying to keep his voice light.
They stood. At least, she’d taken it well about his grandfather
looking into
the mound, but he felt rotten about deceiving her again. What was that old saying about what tangled webs we weave when we deceive?
She put her arm through his as he escorted her toward the back of the church. They’d probably never walk a church aisle together as man and wife—too many differences and contrasting goals. He had to be careful he didn’t make another mistake like he had with Lacey.
That thought disturbed him, and he stepped away from Kate at the top of the stairs. He could hear the buzz of voices below. He wanted to say goodbye to Nadine, tell her he’d like to stop by to look at Paul’s carvings, choose one or two to buy—and, in the process, check them for the eagle pendant. If only they’d left the relics untouched that day!
“It’s a lovely old church,” Kate said, turning to glance back at the sanctuary. “But I like the way they’ve updated it, too—a good blend of honoring the past but with the modern.”
Was she subtly trying to work on him again to let her modern techniques study ancient Mason Mound? He turned back to look at the altar, the cross. And he felt doubly ashamed that not only had he lied to her again, but he’d done it in the heart of the church, too. What shook him more than that was, for a blurred moment, again in his mind’s eye, he saw the dark sanctuary of death in the mound, the ornaments of Adena worship laid out around the two main skeletons, circled by human sacrifices with their skulls smashed.
15
K
ate was appalled she’d slept late the next morning, but she and Grant—Brad, too, sober—had stayed up late talking about everything except Mason Mound. She’d promised to get their breakfast, but they’d obviously been quiet and just let her sleep. The house was silent.
She got up, threw on her robe and padded into the kitchen. They’d left some coffee, so she poured a cup and stared out the window. The mound beckoned to her, just as it must have to generations of inhabitants here. Especially, it seemed, Grant’s grandfather.
She looked around for a local phone book and found a skinny, old one that covered the whole county. Amber had said Sam Custer’s daughter Mary Ann was unmarried. Kate was guessing the old man might live with her. Despite Grant’s smooth shift of topics and his comments that Sam was senile, which she’d seen for herself, she wanted another interview with the man.
She called the Custer number.
Yes!
Mary Ann lived in her parents’ home not far from here, and Kate was welcome to come over. “I meant to ask
your
father more about
my
father yesterday and didn’t get a chance,” she told Mary Ann. Kate had to admit to herself that if Grant was bending the truth, he wasn’t the only one. Yet she would be sure to make what she’d said true—she would ask Sam about her own father, too. Maybe it would be a first step to understanding not only Sam, but also her dad, at last.
* * *
Grant had spoken to Nadine about Paul’s carvings after the funeral. She’d told him to come by, and she’d give him first choice on the ones she was selling. She also told him Jace Miller said she could collect the one that had killed Paul.
“How about I stop by the police station and bring that back to you?” he’d asked her, so here he was, rolling the Adena carving up Nadine’s driveway in a wheelbarrow. When he’d loaded it on his truck, he’d carefully looked it over for a hiding place.
“Thanks so much, Grant,” Nadine said as she opened the garage door for him to roll the trunk into Paul’s workshop. Grant noticed the chaos had been straightened; order restored; things rearranged. Of all the places over the years Grant would picture his longtime friend, it would be here or up in the lost tree house, cut down just as prematurely as Paul had been.
“You know Kate wants to buy this,” he reminded her as he carefully tipped the wheelbarrow and slid the tree trunk to the floor where she indicated, among the others.
“She said she’d stop by soon, but I suppose she’ll need you to haul it. I’ll be glad to get it out of here,” she admitted, throwing a canvas work apron over it. He saw her shudder. “That squat, strange Adena shaman he carved always gave me the creeps anyway, like he was guarding something with a curse on it. It’s almost like it came to life and struck Paul down.”
Grant felt a chill slither up his spine, too. That was all he needed—Nadine as well as Kate obsessing that the ancient Adena could come to life and haunt humans who disturbed their resting places. In a way, that was what had killed his grandma Ada.
“Grant,” Nadine rushed on, turning toward him before he could find something comforting to say. “Paul’s death had to be either an accident or—or worse. As soon as Gabe gets back from his honeymoon, I’m going to talk to him about making a full investigation. I can’t stand being here alone at night anymore, so my sister’s coming to stay for a while—to help me get over...over Paul’s loss.”
“That’s a good idea, Nadine. I’m sure she’ll be a big help.”
Grant recalled Jace had told him Nadine refused to use the word
murder,
but that she thought that was what it was. And she’d been doubly upset, he’d said, when Jace checked with her sister and the gas-station attendant in town to be sure the time frame she’d given him for her whereabouts the day of the murder matched what she’d said, so that she could be ruled out of being a person of interest.
A person of interest.
Nadine was that to him partly because she was battling an illness and needed support and money, partly because she might have an idea about where Paul would hide something priceless. Grant figured Paul hadn’t told Nadine about the eagle pendant or she wouldn’t be hurting for money—unless she’d promised to keep her husband’s secret, keep his precious boyhood find hidden.
“Everything all right with Paul’s will?” Grant asked. “Do you need any help with moving stuff out or cleaning the house before you sell it?”
“You Mason men are so supportive,” she said. “I’ll let you both know when I’m ready to take you up on it, because Brad’s insisted he’ll help me go through Paul’s things.”
* * *
“Your daddy was sure a handsome man, good salesman, too,” Sam Custer told Kate as she sat with him in the old farmhouse his family had lived in for years. Mary Ann still referred to this front room as the parlor. “Like all of us, he done some wrong in his days, but at heart he was a good man—a man’s man.”
Kate nodded, though she disagreed with most of that. Her father had not acted like a good man. He was a woman’s man, and not just one woman. She listened attentively to Sam’s renditions of times Dad stopped by to see him.
“Course, I understand what a tragedy it was when he left you girls. He hated hisself for that part of it, but it always takes two to tango—two to break up a marriage, too.”
She bit down the instinct to come to her mother’s defense; maybe there were things she didn’t know. Besides, she wanted to get on the subject that had really brought her here, before Sam went off on another World War II tangent.
“I found it interesting that you recalled Grant’s grandfather looking into the mound behind their house—your old hunting grounds,” she said when she finally got a word in, remembering to talk loudly. “But did you mean he just looked into information on the Adena or did he manage to actually look inside the mound?”
“Oh, sure, that’s it. Don’t think many knew. Cleared hisself out a real narrow passage in, so he said. Had to move stones, dirt, coupla fallen beams—solid, old wood, oak, he thought. Took him years to clear away the debris from that, saw the pile of it more’n once when we was after deer over there. Whatever he seen in that mound scairt him bad. You know, I swear deer was thick as mayflies round their woodlot sometimes. Shot me a big buck there right after the war, twelve pointer. Venison’s a far cry from what we ate in C-rations during the war, you know....”
Kate nodded but she was hardly listening. Grant’s grandfather had entered the mound. That meant Grant was either ignorant of that or lying to her. Talk about going to war... If the latter were true, that made Grant her enemy. And that changed all the rules.
* * *
“Hi, Carson,” Kate said into her phone the minute she got his voice mail. She didn’t bother to identify herself. She was sitting in Grant’s driveway, hadn’t even gone into the house, as if it might have ears.
“I need a favor—for our cause,” she said, talking fast. “I know you’re teaching a class, but when you get a chance, can you send a grad student to research something for me in the university library archives? In the stacks on Kenny Road last year, when I was home from England for Christmas, I found some mid-twentieth-century reports from this area about mound entries and finds, which were recorded by hand, of course, and filed under Falls County reports about crops, no less. I copied some stuff about the Cold Creek Mound, but maybe I missed something in there about Mason Mound. I’ve heard a rumor—even have a fairly reliable secondary witness—who says the mound might have been entered in the late thirties. So if you can—”
His recording beeped. Out of time, but she’d said what she’d needed to. She knew how much Grant had loved his grandfather, that the lost tree house had revived many memories and how much he’d love to have him back. Now Kate wished his grandfather was back, too, because she had a lot of questions.
* * *
Late that afternoon, not having heard from Carson, Kate drove to Todd and Amber’s place to see Todd demonstrate his climbing techniques.
“Brad and Grant are coming, too,” Amber told her as she let her in. “The boys and I will go along with you all. It’s good for them to hear their father’s lectures about safety now and then, but they’re much too young to go up with him. I don’t even want them standing under the tree just looking up. If something gets dropped from that height, it’s going fast and hard when it hits the ground.”
“I see they like to draw pictures of Todd up in a tree.”
“Sure do. I suppose it’s inevitable, but I’d like to think they won’t follow in his footsteps that way. I still worry about him.”
While the boys played out back, the two of them sat over coffee and peanut-butter cookies until the men arrived. Grant and Brad came together in Grant’s truck, as if he still wasn’t letting Brad drive. Amber evidently loved to have company and served everyone with a smile on her face. It made Kate wish she was better at hospitality, a real gift, but her mother had seldom entertained because money was so tight, once again, thanks to her
good man
father.
In the living room, Todd produced a sample harness and proceeded to show the safety features and explain how he climbed. He was so knowledgeable and interesting he reminded Kate of some of the better lecturers she’d heard over the years of entirely too much schooling.
“If you’ve got an extra rig for me, I’d like to go up with you today,” Brad said. “I know Grant prefers to be earthbound, and he’ll never let Kate climb without any practice, but I’m ready. You got an extra harness and gear around here?”
“You bet. I was showing Keith Simons how to climb the other day. He’s a big guy, probably too big to try it again, but if this harness can hold him, it can sure hold you.”
Kate could tell Grant didn’t like Brad showing off today. She could almost hear his thoughts.
Brad’s sober right now. I can’t keep trying to control him even if I am his big brother. He’s had a hard time, losing his company. I may be mad at him about hanging out with Lacey, but I’ve got to keep my mouth shut, especially since we had that big argument night before last.
They all trooped outside and through the woods toward what Todd called his favorite tree. Amber got a call on her cell and dropped back a bit to talk, so Kate took the hand of Aaron, the middle boy, while Grant carried the toddler, Andy. Their oldest, Jason, kept right up with his dad.
As they got deeper in, Kate saw deadwood had fallen and sprawled over living growth. As if he’d read her mind, Grant explained. “A lot of downed trees from a straight-line wind here two years ago. When nature does it, I don’t mind, but I’m still going to find out who cut down my maple. It’s just that losing Paul took precedence.”
“I understand,” she said, but she couldn’t really understand why he fought her so hard on further examining Mason Mound. Or did she actually have his long-gone grandfather to blame? Had he made his son and grandson vow never to let someone tamper with their mound? What could have
scairt him bad,
as Sam had said, inside it? She doubted he’d been scared by a cave-in since the exterior seemed intact. Could he have seen decayed corpses inside—even a horrible mask?
“Todd can ID types of trees by the texture of their bark and the smell of their leaves.” Grant’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “If it wasn’t for him, Mason Mill probably wouldn’t have branched out—excuse the pun.”
“Oh, yeah,” Brad said, turning back to get into the conversation. “Here we go with the environment, diversity talk. Okay, you told me to do it, too, with the paper mill and I didn’t listen. Save this green goal stuff to get Lacey to back off.”
“She’s backed off me. How about you?” Grant shot back.
Before this escalated again, Kate interrupted them. “What side products does the mill sell wood for besides furniture?”
“Things made from wood flour,” Grant said, still glaring at Brad, who turned his back on them and continued to cart his climbing gear along behind Todd. “That product is basically wood pulverized to dust, bleached and rinsed, which we don’t do on-site. Bet you didn’t know wood flour’s in such things as nondairy milk shakes—water, sugar, flavoring and wood flour. Yum,” he said with a chuckle.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“It gets weirder than that. Other items we contribute wood pulp, not flour, to are the cups you get your coffee in at places like Starbucks.”
“He probably won’t mention tampons,” Amber said, catching up with them. “And I won’t repeat a couple of jokes Todd told me about that. Grant, that phone call—it may be nothing, but a friend of mine says up by where her brother lives on Shadow Mountain, a man keeps a team of big Amish-type horses that come and go in a truck sometimes. Didn’t Todd say that you think a draft team might have hauled off your tree?”
“Yeah. Can you give me directions?” he asked. “I’m looking for any lead. No Amish live around here, far as I know, so it’s worth looking into.”
“Sure, can do” was all she got out before Todd stopped under a huge oak and everyone looked up at its lofty height.
“This is the site of your field trip, boys and girls,” he said with a grin as he clapped Brad on the back.
“But, Dad,” Jason said, “we only have us boys here, not girls. Mom and Miss Kate are ladies.”
Todd grinned as he put his gear down then went to Brad and started to hitch him up. “I’ve already got climb lines all over this tree, or else we’d have to throw and secure them,” he said, as he pulled gear from his backpack.
Again, he demonstrated the Jumar ascenders he’d shown them before, devices with handles a climber could hold and teeth that gripped a rope. Jumars attached to a harness that held the climber around his hips and thighs and kept him from being detached from the rope. Todd then climbed into his harness.
“Do a monkey hang up there today, Dad!” Jason called to him as the two men walked over to the ropes hanging from the tree.
“Not today,” Amber chimed in. “Todd, please, no branch-walking, either, even if you have an audience.”
“Yes, boss,” Todd said and blew her a kiss. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to take Brad up a ways and let him look around. Then if Kate is still game, I’ll give her a couple of lessons before we climb near the Hear Ye compound. Brad, up we go. Let’s convince these groundlings that this is a walk in the park.”