A gust of wind blew across the yard. Fog swirled in the hole like a whirlpool before emptying, revealing a long slender shaft of wood partially covered with earth. Tessa knelt and reached for the object. She tugged, but the ground wouldn’t release it. She eased down into the hole and dug around with her hands in the wet soil until she freed an arrowhead-tipped spear.
Tessa climbed out of the hole with the object. She rubbed her fingers over the staff, which removed clotted dirt clinging to the spear and revealed a carved design. Tessa’s fingers tingled, and the hairs on the back of her neck lifted. Her breath exhaled in short puffs.
“Ma’am?” a voice called.
Tessa lowered the staff to her side and slowly eased it behind her back. The young man stood on the ruined sidewalk.
“Whatcha got there?” he asked.
“Oh, just some junk from the hole.”
“Did Ralph send you over this morning?”
“No,” Tessa answered. “But I’m working with the owner of this house too.”Sort of.
“I don’t know where Ralph is, but I’ve got to call a tow to get this dozer out of the street—” He stopped talking because his cell phone rang. Based on the conversation, Tessa knew the caller was Ralph. After he ended the call, the young man said, “Ralph’s car died about two miles away. We’ll reschedule. Doesn’t seem like this house wants to be torn down. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Tessa’s hands trembled, and she smiled at Honeysuckle Hollow. “We gained another day,” she said to the house as the young man walked away.
Greg yelled into his cell phone as he climbed into his truck, and Tessa’s eyebrows rose at his creative use of swear words combined with new ways to describe a broken-down bulldozer. Once Greg’s truck disappeared into the fog and the young man was preoccupied with his phone, Tessa waded through the haze down the sidewalk and climbed into the Great Pumpkin.
She laid the spear on the passenger seat. Tessa wasn’t sure how old it was, but she assumed the arrowhead spear was a Native American relic, which meant it had the potential to be more than a hundred years old. Or it could be an elaborate stage prop. She snapped a few pictures using her cell phone and emailed them to a friend, an anthropology professor at the University of Georgia. She’d set up Wenton McDougal with his prom date senior year, and Wenton and Lila were now happily married. Wenton owed her a favor or two. She wrote,Found this beneath a historic home that’s been standing for more than one hundred years.She paused and then added,I didn’t steal it. But she erased the last sentence because a voice in her head asked,Oh yeah? Then what’s it doing in the car?
“I can return it later,” she said, trying to placate the accusatory voice in her head.
Tessa dropped her phone into her purse, turned on the engine, and did a U-turn on Dogwood Lane since the bulldozer blocked the street. She drove toward her office because she needed to make calls and check her email. The damage assessment on her car was supposed to happen today too. She didn’t need to be present for the inspection, but she wanted to stay on top of the insurance company to prevent delays.
The Red River wound through town, and around the water, the fog was especially dense. Tessa slowed the car to less than fifteen miles per hour. As she passed the road that led out of town, the Great Pumpkin made an awful wheezing noise followed by a shudder that made her teeth clatter. She steered the car toward the side of the road, and it rolled to a stop. Tessa turned off the engine and then turned the key again. Nothing happened. She tried the ignition again. Nothing. She dropped her head against the wheel.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned. She glanced toward the spear. “Is this because I stole? Because I wasgoingto take you back.”
After several minutes Tessa figured out how to release the hood, but when she propped it open, she had no idea what she was looking for. Smoke and fog mingled together and made it nearly impossible for her to even see the engine parts. And even if shecouldsee a problem, it wasn’t as though she could fix it.
She grabbed her phone to call a local mechanic, and car lights knifed through the fog. A black sedan pulled up beside her, and the passenger-side window lowered. The man behind the wheel leaned into the passenger seat, and Tessa bent over to see his face.
She shook her head in disbelief. “Of course it’s you.”
Paul grinned at her. “Don’t tell me the Great Pumpkin has given you his last.”
“I’m not giving up on him yet. I was just about to call the mechanic.”
“Get in,” Paul said. “I’ll give you a lift.”
“You look like you’re on your way out of town. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
Paul tossed his bag into the back seat, making room for Tessa beside him. “I like this whole damsel-in-distress moment. Makes me feel chivalrous. I can’t remember the last time I picked up a woman from the side of the road.”
Tessa snorted. “I hope never.”
Paul’s laugh carried out the window and dispersed the fog around the car. Tessa grabbed her purse and the spear. Then she locked the Great Pumpkin, lowered its hood, and climbed into Paul’s car.
He reached for the spear. “What have you got there?”
“Careful. The arrowhead is still sharp. I found it at the house.”
“Looks like you found it in a mud pile.” He rubbed his fingers over the carvings.
“Close enough.”
