Broken Bonds

by Karen Harper

  When he got closer to the truck, he saw Ginger Green standing beside it, talking to Char through the passenger-side window. She had a quiver of arrows on her back and a recurve bow in her hand.

  “Hey,” he called to her. “You aren’t headed for the protestors, are you?”

  “Been there, done that. It really frosts me they have my last name in their title, the rabid greeniacs. I’d like to put an arrow or two through their signs, but I restrained myself. You know what one of them—that Fencer woman in charge—said to me?”

  “Tell me,” he said, standing by Char’s open window, too.

  Ginger pouted, her free hand on her hip. “She said the chaos around here from the fracking reminded her of reruns of that old TV show, The Beverly Hillbillies, where Jed Clampett struck oil on his poor Appalachian property and moved to Hollywood and made a fool of himself. I told her the Green Tree protestors have been polluting the air around here with their chanting. Sorry, boss, but I just came down through the woods from the archery range to tell them to knock it off.”

  “They’ve been standing on our property, so I’ll get Sheriff McCabe or his deputy to give them a warning.”

  “You know,” Ginger said with a little grin when she’d looked so angry a moment ago, “I must admit I do like to see Royce riled, since he ‘done me wrong.’ You all know what I mean. I swear, I’d like to sic Orlando on those loudmouths—and I just may do that.”

  “You keep Orlando and Royce out of this,” Matt told her. “I’ll handle it.”

  She hit his shoulder lightly with her fist and strode back into the fringe of pine trees, from which she must have emerged. He’d never noticed it before, but her quiver was covered with sleek fur, and he stared after her, wondering if that could be beaver. And the fletching on her arrows—hell, they looked pretty much like the ones that had whacked into Char’s cabin door and the back of his house. But what annoyed him more than anything was the fact that the bottle of creek water Char held on her lap could prove that those picketers were right.

  * * *

  After Matt dropped off Char, he headed home and put the jar of creek water on his kitchen counter. He fixed himself a sandwich and a beer and stared at the jar, held it up to the light, trying to decide how to get it safely to his friend in Columbus tomorrow. He’d gone to college with the guy, knew he’d do this for him, keep it quiet until they could get a better sample. The water looked clear to him. Wouldn’t it have the golden highlights of the water in the fracking lagoon if it was deadly?

  He jumped when his front doorbell rang. All he needed was Royce or Orlando right now. He put the jar in the cupboard and went to see who it was. Joe Fencer. He’d insisted on working this weekend because of the snow—and, Matt figured—because he just couldn’t stand to be in his old farmhouse he was soon leaving for good.

  “Hey, Joe, come on in.”

  “Thanks. For a few minutes. Just wanted to apologize about my cousin leading those protestors out there.”

  “Not your fault.”

  Joe came in, wiping the snow off his feet on Matt’s sisal rug. “I tried to talk to them. For all the good it did, me. You know, I never thought about a groundskeeper job being dangerous before.”

  “Before facing the Green Tree zealots out on the road? What did they do?”

  “I mean, considering what happened to Woody. Then Ms. Green—I mean, she seemed real friendly, said to call her Ginger—read me the riot act of stats that ground maintenance workers have a high percentage of fatalities, like 160 nationally a couple of years ago, she said. And get this—falls are a common cause of accidental death. Made me think of Woody again.”

  “Well, that’s a lousy welcome from our sports director,” Matt said. “Sometimes I wonder whose side she’s on. Here, let me take your coat. Come on into the kitchen. I forgot to turn up the heat when I came in. Want coffee or a beer?”

  “Coffee would be great. I’m not quite ready to go home. The family’s packing. Actually, I’m going to drive to the new place with some boxes I’ve got in my truck, spend the night there. Sara Ann and Mandy Lee will probably yak half the night, anyway.”

  “Won’t Mandy Lee be going back to her family up on Pinecrest soon? I’m sure her son, Jemmie, needs her, and old Adela could sure use help.”

  “Mandy Lee’s husband—you’ve seen Sam, right?—is acting so strange. I think she’s actually scared of him. He’s there for a while then just disappears.”

  “Yeah, watching for terrorists.”

  “Sometimes I think, in his own way, he’s turned into one.”

  Matt started the coffeemaker on his counter. “Your new place is on the road to Chillicothe, right? Listen, I need a big favor. If you’re going to be that far, can you take a package to a friend of mine in Columbus tomorrow morning—just come in here late, however long it takes for you to wait for test results on a sample. Keep a record of your trip and I’ll pay you mileage out of my pocket—not the community money.”

  “Yeah, sure. Glad to. Like a medical sample to a doctor’s office?”

  “I’m going to level with you, Joe, because I want you to agree to what I’m asking—understand what it is. I think you and I see eye to eye on this, that the country and some people get the benefits of fracking, but we need to keep an eye on its possible excesses. It’s a sample of creek water from near the Hear Ye fracking site—and your heritage farm—that needs to be tested for possible runoff pollution. This has nothing to do with the Green Tree protest and is not to be shared with anyone other than me. No one right now.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. He sat up straighter. “I get it,” he said. “I’ll do it. Like I said, I’m torn, too.”

  “Which is partly why I’m trusting you with this. Deal?” he asked and extended his hand over the corner of the table.

  “Deal,” Joe said, shaking his hand. “Say, you didn’t think of this earlier and tell someone, did you? I mean before you almost got shoved off Pinecrest Mountain?”

  “No. Good theory, though. I still haven’t figured out why that happened—or what really happened to Woody McKitrick, so be careful around here. Maybe Ginger’s warning was legit. If you ever go up on the ridge above the golf course, let me know, and I’ll go with you.”

  Joe nodded. “You bet I’ll keep this little errand quiet, even from my family, ’cause this is big. I mean, if word got out what you’re thinking, you’d really get hounded by the Green Tree folks and others. It could be huge for Mr. Flemming. It could put you in danger again.”

  17

  Though she was exhausted, Char hardly slept. She yawned and turned over once again, twisting the bedcovers. Today was Monday. She’d only known Matt five days, but she felt as if she was having withdrawal symptoms when she wasn’t with him. And she was so worried about her family in the grasp of Bright Star. Who knew what he was capable of?

  Thanksgiving was this Thursday, only three days away. Since Kate would barely be back from Pennsylvania and the mere smell of food sent Tess running to the bathroom, nothing had been decided about where they would celebrate the holiday as a family. Char intended to ask Matt if she could pay to have her family dine at the lodge, but there might be no places left this late. And, except for Tess’s pregnancy, could they feel really thankful considering all that had happened? Well, she had found Matt—if they had any sort of future.

  She got up early while it was still dark, forced herself to get ready and eat breakfast from food she’d brought from the cabin. Then she just paced around the first floor of the large home—large to her, at least. As much as she had looked forward to being in the little hunting cabin up on the cliff, she guessed she could get used to a large place like this or Matt’s.

  She made herself sit down at the kitchen table to review her notes about the house visit she’d make this morning up on Pinecrest. Bethany Antrim, age seven, had not been to sc
hool yet this year, evidently because she lived so far up and her mother was an invalid. Bethany would be the third child Henry Hanson could pick up in the new school van, and there were at least three other families Char hoped to call on. She had to concentrate on that this morning, helping the mountain kids, as much as she’d like to help the ones she was related to. Little Kelsey and Ethan were just as trapped as the impoverished Appalachian children. Lee and Grace had decided to join the Hear Ye sect, but the kids had no say in that.

  When daylight finally filtered through the trees, Char got her things together to head out. She jumped as her phone rang. She’d been hoping Matt would call, even though he hadn’t wanted her to go up on Pinecrest alone, and she was going, anyway.

  “This is Char.”

  “Char, it’s Gabe. Deputy Miller and I called on Bright Star last night, and I have some things to tell you. I’m almost to Lake Azure, so stay put, okay?”

  “I’ll wait for you. Did he admit that his people killed those beavers and had that waterboarding place?”

  “Actually, that wasn’t our most important topic. He denied knowing anything about it, despite the quote carved in the wall. He said maybe someone from his group did it but for a place to meditate and pray, that the table was a makeshift altar and he’d ask around.”

  “Meditate and pray? But—”

  “Just sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

  Her stomach cramped. What else could Gabe be alluding to as more important? She waited, pacing again. If he had something else on Bright Star, now would be the time to try to get her relatives out of that horrible place. She looked out the front windows and saw the sheriff’s car pull in. Gabe got out and came up the walk.

  She pulled the front door open. “Let’s sit down,” he said, giving her a pat on the shoulder, then going past her into the living room. She closed the door and followed him in. He put his hat on the end table but left his leather jacket on. He sat on the sofa, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, looking at his hands instead of her.

  “Is Tess okay?”

  “Yes, if you call puking off and on okay. She’s still happy as can be. The doctor says it should pass after her first trimester. Her friend Lindell’s running most of the activities today.”

  “I could help out again. I have to make several house calls and set things up with the school district, but—”

  “Char, please sit down.”

  She sat beside him on the sofa, turning to face him. “Something about Bright Star,” she said. “It’s bad—right?”

  “Let me tell you a couple things. First of all, I made another jump-the-gun mistake about the dead beavers. They weren’t shot with a rifle but with arrows.”

  “Oh, no! Then—”

  “The carcass I have still had the metal-tipped arrow point in it, although the shaft was pulled out. My deputy and I went back down there. The other beavers didn’t have the arrow points in them—but no bullets.”

  “Gabe, you have to check that arrow point against the others—you know, like a ballistics test. Well, I don’t mean to tell you your business, but we have to let Matt know.”

  “I just talked to him. There’s more. Actually, I was called to the Hear Ye compound before I went on my own. The Falls County coroner asked me to meet him there last night. Char, I’m sorry, but this is a next of kin call, and I hate to make those.”

  He turned toward her, finally looked at her.

  “A next of kin call?”

  “Six cult members were sickened on Friday by botulism from home-canned peaches that obviously went bad. They’ve had a doctor out there as well as the coroner. Several kids and two adults got severely sick. One died. Char, it was Lee. He got violently ill and died nine hours later. They claim they had no idea it would be fatal. As I said, the others pulled through—three are still in the Chillicothe Regional Medical Center. Tess is devastated, Kate’s en route to Pennsylvania, and—Char, did you hear me? What you said yesterday when I thought we had a human corpse buried in the snow was almost prophetic. Lee is dead. I’m so sorry.”

  “I—can’t believe it, but I feared it. You saw his body?”

  “Yes, before the coroner took him.”

  She sat still, rigid as his words sank in. Then she put her head in her hands but didn’t cry, just breathed in huge gasps. He slid over to sit beside her, put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Gabe, that maniac killed Lee or had him killed. You know he did.”

  “We don’t know that. We can’t prove that—yet.”

  “I swear, the others were a cover—expendable if they died, too. I have to get to Grace, get her out of there.”

  “That’s partly why I’m here. Bright Star’s been very cooperative.”

  “Oh, I’ll just bet,” she said. She broke into tears and jumped up to pace, flinging gestures. “After all, he gets away with everything. He told Kate once that Grace was a chosen one, but I think poor Lee was chosen to die, especially since he tried to tell me something to help expose that monster! The cult member next to us at the market must have guessed he told me something.”

  “Listen to me!” Gabe said, getting up and swinging her around to face him, then holding her by both upper arms. “I have permission to attend what the sect calls a resurrection ceremony this afternoon. Tess and Kate are obviously not available—I wouldn’t let Tess go if she could—but if you want to go, I’ll take you, if you can control yourself from attacking that bastard or getting in the way of my investigation.”

  Char wiped tears off her cheeks. She pulled away from him and fumbled for a tissue in her jeans pocket and blew her nose. “Yes, good. I prayed for a way to see Grace and Lee but not like this. It—it isn’t their kids that got sick, is it?”

  “No. I checked that, have the names.”

  “You’d think the kids that got sick would have been worse off than a big man, having smaller bodies.”

  “I know. They must have eaten less of the peaches.”

  “An autopsy?”

  “Bright Star has allowed it despite the fact he said it dishonors the body. The coroner would have done it anyway, did it at seven this morning. No signs of homicide. He confirmed the botulism—it’s a deadly toxin with a long name. He declared the cause of death as accidental from food poisoning.”

  “Maybe Lee was force-fed the poison peaches and waterboarded to death!”

  “Char, I’m not taking you with me if you pull anything—say anything like that. I repeat, you’re not to get involved or screw up my investigation of Bright Star and this incident. Agree with me, or you don’t go.”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ll play the part of meek family mourner. But this so-called resurrection service is today—already?”

  “The cult buries its dead before the next sunset, something like Jewish or old biblical beliefs, I guess.”

  Still blinking back tears, she nodded. “I’ll be back here by three, if you can pick me up. I—I have to help a little girl up on the mountain, even if my own kin is past saving.”

  “You’re going up the mountain today? Without Matt? He said he’s busy and doesn’t want you to go alone.”

  “The living need help, not the dead.”

  “Don’t start sounding like Bright Star. Be careful then. I’ll pick you up here at three-thirty. I won’t be in uniform, and we won’t go in my sheriff vehicle. The service is at four, followed by the burial at sunset. Like other churches, they have permission to bury their dead in a new graveyard nearby, the third one on the old lunatic asylum grounds.”

  “More burials of people who have somehow lost their minds,” she said as he took his hat off the table. “Thank you, Gabe. I’ll be ready and I’ll be careful.”

  “Good. Sorry to be the bearer of that news. Tess is trying to get hold of Kate to tell her, but she must have turned her phone off while
she drives. No reason for her to come back until after her lecture anyway, especially if he’s buried this fast.”

  Char watched him drive away. Somehow, she was going to get Grace and her kids out of Bright Star’s version of an insane asylum.

  * * *

  After she returned from the mountain, Char dressed in an all-black pantsuit and her only good coat, a camel-colored one with a belt.

  Gabe drove them toward the starburst iron gates of the Hear Ye commune. “That’s great news about another mountain kid getting to go to school,” he told her. “Something good today, anyhow.”

  “Thank heavens Bethany’s mother wanted her to get to school, even if it meant she was often alone during the day. She’s only forty but she has real breathing problems with COPD. I talked to a neighbor who said she’d look in on Mrs. Antrim, even though the term ‘neighbor’ means about four miles away. I just wish Grace would think about her own kids and sacrifice for them—by getting out of here, especially before these people get their hands on her new baby. Tess said she doesn’t even think families get to stay together here. It may take a village to raise a child, but children need the family structure, too.”

  “Right. For sure,” he said as he parked his civilian car. They were both on edge. Char was holding back her tears; Gabe was stoic and hadn’t said much on the drive, even while she’d rattled on.

  She hadn’t seen Matt but had talked to him on the phone, and they were planning on eating out tonight. He said he’d sent the water sample to his friend in Columbus but he didn’t tell her how—she knew for sure not with Orlando. Funny, but she had the feeling Matt thought their cell phones might be hacked since the moment she’d started to tell him she was desperate to help Grace, he’d cut her off and said to tell him in person. That was fine with her because she knew if she told him, he’d try to stop her from— Well, from whatever she could manage to do.