Blood Ties (37 page)

Forest's sister opened the door.

"Evening, Miss Margaret," Buck said. "You know
Abbie."

"Come in," the older woman called cheerfully.
"Daniel's already here." She smiled at Abbie. "I'm so
sorry about the loss of your mother."

"Thank you. I miss her."

"And of course you would." She caught Abbie's arm.
"You just come into the kitchen with me, dear. I've
made lemonade and some lovely scones with lemon
curd."

Abbie glanced at Buck.

"Forest and Daniel are in the front parlor. You gentlemen just go on and tend to your business," Margaret said. "If I know Forest, he'll have some
single-malt Scotch already poured."

Buck shrugged helplessly as Margaret tugged her down the center hall, presumably where she could
question Abbie at length.

Forest rose and smiled as Buck pushed open the
study door. Daniel stood by the window, a pewter cup
between his hands. Forest's two dogs lay sprawled on
the rug near the empty fireplace. "Come in, come in,"
the lawyer said.

Buck nodded to Daniel and accepted a drink.

"After hours, a drop of spirits can't hurt," Forest said,
waving Buck to a comfortable chair. "I understand you
two were up to no good in St. Michaels a bit ago."

Buck glanced at Daniel, who shrugged. "It's Tawes.
Nothing much stays a secret."

"I'm sure that whatever you did, you had good reason," Forest said.

"Truer words were never spoken," Buck replied.
He tasted the Scotch. It was excellent. Peaty, rich,
full-bodied.

Forest closed the heavy door. "I hope Miss Night
Horse doesn't feel slighted, but what I have to ask you
can't leave this room. Ever."

Buck waited.

"The two of you are aware of the Island Fund and its
charitable purposes here on Tawes."

Daniel nodded. "Known about it all my life."

"It's been my responsibility for years, and I'm not
getting any younger."

Neither he nor Daniel commented on that.

"To be frank, what I want is for you two to assume
management of the fund and its monies. What do
you say?"

"I can understand why you'd want Daniel," Buck
said, "but-"

Forest poured himself another measure of Scotch.
"You two are blood kin. You're honest and levelheaded."

"Daniel?" Buck glanced at his cousin.

"I've already agreed."

"He came a little early, so I felt free to discuss the
matter. Plus, Daniel has suggested using interest from
the fund to open a private school, open to every child
on the island without cost. It might ease the concerns
of parents who are afraid our public school will close."

"I know that will please Bailey," Daniel said.

"Daniel's made a donation to the fund. A most generous donation."

"I don't know what to say." Buck looked from Daniel
to Forest.

"Say yes," Daniel urged.

"All right." Buck raised his cup. "To the Island
Fund," he said. "May it last as long as the blue crabs."

"One more thing," Forest said. "You know I've been
tracing the family trees to find the real heirs to the
Sherwood-" The doorbell rang. "That must be
Emma."

Buck glanced at his watch. Emma was always late.

Forest went to the door and returned with Emma.
"You're just in time," he said. "Will you join us in a
drink?"

"I'm partial to brandy."

"This is a celebration," Forest said. "I was just about
to share some good news with the boys."

Emma smiled. "It's about time we had some good
news around here."

"Now that we know Thomas Sherwood's grandfather never owned the land that the realty company
wanted for a marina, it goes to the descendants of the
last legal owner. You, Buck and his brothers, and
Daniel."

"No shit?" Emma gulped her brandy.

Forest laughed. "No shit."

"And no marina," Buck added. "Not now. Not ever."

Under the glow of an orange moon, Will carried flowers to his daughter's grave as he had so many times in
the last thirty-odd years. It was night, but daylight or
darkness never made much difference to him. All his
life, he'd roamed the island in all kinds of weather.
Anyone who saw him passing through the streets after
midnight wouldn't give it a second thought.

Once he reached the church cemetery, he found his
way unerringly to Beth's resting place beside that of
his sister Elizabeth. Sometimes he brought flowers for
her as well, but not tonight. She wouldn't approve of
what he was doing. Lots of what he'd done in his lifetime, Elizabeth had disapproved of. He supposed it
was that way with brothers and sisters.

Somehow, he felt that Beth would have understood.
She'd loved Tawes as he had, and she'd know why he
had to protect it as long as he could ... protect it for
Bailey and the babe she carried in her womb. The wild
places were vanishing. The birds, the fish and crabs,
the oysters, and the animals. Too many people
crowded them out, left no places for them to feed and
raise their young. Soon the fox squirrels would follow
the red knots into extinction along with the passenger
pigeons that his father had shot by the hundreds and
thousands.

Using a garden trowel, he dug into the mound beneath the shadow of Beth's tombstone, pushing aside
the damp earth until the hole was as deep as a man's
arm could reach. When he was satisfied, he pulled a
small package from inside his shirt and unwrapped it.

The Irish gold glittered in the moonlight, and Will
turned the artifacts over in his hands, marveling at the
artists who had crafted these beautiful objects so long
ago. Often and again, he'd wondered about them and
the men who'd carried them across a wide sea to this bay country. He was sorry they couldn't lie where
they'd been placed, as grave goods for those who'd
worn them so proudly.

With a sigh, Will thrust the golden torque, the
beads, and the rest of the treasure into the bottom of
the hole. "Rest in peace," he murmured as he pushed
the soft dirt over them and tamped it down with the
handle of the trowel. Lastly, he planted the flowering
bulbs he'd brought with him. In spring, jonquils
would bloom on Beth's grave.

"Yep," he whispered. "You'd understand me, darling. And I'm afraid no one else could."

"And we've got what?" Daniel asked. He stood near
the double stack of filing cabinets against the back
wall of the one-room Tawes police office. Buck sat at
his desk, drinking bottled green tea and eating crab
cake sandwiches that Emma had sent over with Daniel
to stave off starvation.

Buck swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"We've got a likely identification on the three dead
bodies that Archie dug up. The child was probably
Le'ron Brown, age nine. I suspect the adults were his
parents, Patsy and Sam Brown. The adult male, midforties, the female in her thirties."

"Abbie thought the child was younger."

"People remember him as unusually small for his
age, so he'd match the partial skeleton we found.
Le'ron attended Tawes Elementary School sporadically
in the spring before the family moved on. We know
they returned to the island that fall, because Le'ron
shows up registered from September 22"`1 through mid
February. There's a photograph in his file. No district ever requested the boy's records, so they remained
here on Tawes." Buck dug through a stack of folders
and produced a faded Polaroid snapshot.

"A nice-looking kid." Daniel felt a stab of sorrow as
he handed back the picture. There'd been no news on
his own son since Lucas had died, and no one at the
agency admitted knowledge of the boy's existence. He
hoped to God that Mallalai's son wouldn't end up in a
muddy grave like little Le'ron Brown. "Anyone remember the father?"

"Some. Sam apparently hired on as a crabber for
several of the local watermen. The wife, Patsy, worked
here in town in the packing house. Mary Love thinks
she remembers her as a tall, skinny woman who never
spoke much. A hard worker."

"Anyone know where they came from?"

"No. The family was so poor they camped out in a
tent on Creed Somers' farm for a while. Phillip thinks
somebody rented a house to them when winter came
on, but he can't recall who."

Daniel opened the refrigerator and helped himself
to an iced tea. "Who did the father work for?"

"Creed, George, Jim's father, Joe. Creed's dead.
Joe's got Alzheimer's, but he claims Sam crabbed with
him for years. Said Sam had red hair and was his
cousin from Chestertown."

Daniel smiled. His Uncle Joe had recently told him
that he'd gone to grammar school with Teddy Roosevelt, that before he'd led the Rough Riders to Cuba,
Teddy crabbed with him in Queen's Sound.

"George remembered Sam, but didn't know just
when he'd worked for him. He thought it was a year or
two after Will got out of prison. George thinks Sam
had a family, but couldn't recollect any details, other
than that the man had never stolen from him."

"That's it? That's all you've been able to find out?"

"Aunt Birdy remembers Le'ron. According to her,
he was thin, almost frail, but clean and well-mannered.
Big beautiful eyes. Pretty as a girl, she said. And shy.
She recalls that Le'ron rarely spoke above a whisper.
She said she used to send hot lunches to the school for
him because he came without even a sandwich. She remembers him going fishing with Emma a few times,
but Le'ron's mother was distrustful of white people
and put an end to it. Elizabeth was the boy's teacher.
She told Emma that Le'ron came to class with shoes
tied with bailing twine. She ordered a pair of sneakers
for him from a catalog, but the father wouldn't let
Le'ron keep them."

Daniel leaned back against the refrigerator. "But
none of this tells how or why the three of them ended
up in that grave with their heads smashed in."

"No, it doesn't, but identifying them puts me one
step closer to finding who killed them. And we know
now why the killer wanted to keep people from digging in that Indian burial ground."

"It might tie Sean Gilbert's death to Karen Knight's,
and eliminate Abbie's father as a suspect. The Brown
family died more than twenty-five years ago."

Buck nodded. "If Vernon had anything to do with
his wife's death, which I doubt, he didn't kill the
Browns."

"So our killer is a lot closer to home."

"I'm afraid so." Buck finished his second sandwich,
dropped the empty bottle in his recycle bin, and carried the plate to the sink to rinse it. "I appreciate your
keeping an eye on Abbie for me. She was bound and
determined to sink a few more holes out there. I think
she's looking for Irish gold."

"Will, Emma, and Harry have been taking turns
with me guarding the site since I put Bailey on the
plane. I doubt our killer wants to take on that bunch."

"What does Bailey think of California?"

"She says it's noisy. And busy. I think this trip was
good for her. She and her father have never been
close, but he is her father."

"Adopted."

"He raised her. That should count for something."

"You're right," Buck agreed. "I just think of her as a
Tawes. She's got Will's eyes, and she's the spitting image of her Aunt Elizabeth. I know Will thinks she hung
the moon."

"Yeah, Bailey's been the saving of Will. He can't wait
until this new baby is born. You know, Will always liked
kids, even when he shied away from adults."

"You used to spend a lot of time with Will when you
were young, didn't you?" Buck asked. "I know you
were always out in the woods or hanging out at his
house."

Daniel stiffened. "Why bring that up?"

"Just remembering."

"You know Will's as decent a man as ever lived."

Buck's gaze locked with his. "Didn't say otherwise."
He clapped a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "I'm glad
Bailey's off the island, cuz. You did the right thing,
sending her to California."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "But she'll be home next
week. I just hope you can catch this murderer before
she gets back."