Sara and Jack looked at her. None of them believed that.
Jack frowned. “The two of you aren’t going to turn into scream queens, are you?” He held up the camera. “If so, quick! Show me where the video is so I can put you on YouTube.”
“Not funny,” Sara said. The siren could be heard at the front of the house and was then turned off. “Sheriff’s here.”
Kate got up and helped Jack with his muddy crutches, and they walked to the front.
A dark-green-and-white car, Broward County Sheriff’s Department, Lachlan, Florida, painted on the side, was parked beside Jack’s old truck.
A man wearing a tuxedo got out. He was fiftyish, medium height, sparse hair, a belly. He was frowning so deep his face was scrunched up. “I’m supposed to be in Miami in thirty minutes. This better be good.” His voice was a growl and it was aimed at Sara.
“It is,” Sara said. “Come and look.”
As he walked past Jack, he said, “You managing to stay sober, Wyatt?”
Kate saw Jack’s face turn to such rage that he looked like he might hit the sheriff. She stepped between them. “Hi! I’m Kate, Sara’s niece. It was so kind of you to come here to see what we found.” She slipped her arm through his tux sleeve. “You make me feel like we’re going to a party.”
It took the man a moment to change moods, but he smiled at her and put his hand over hers. “You must be Randal Medlar’s daughter.”
“I am.” She was startled at hearing the name, but she smiled as warmly as she could manage. When they reached the edge of the hole, she dropped his arm.
Sara was looking as though she might start laughing at what Kate had done. But Jack was glowering like a villain in an action movie.
“There’s the problem.” Kate motioned toward the tall tree roots.
Daryl stared at it, seeming to be unsure of what he was seeing. But after a moment, he looked at Sara. “Somebody planted a tree over an old burial ground. Happens all the time. I’ll send the coroner over tomorrow to remove the bones and rebury them somewhere.” He turned away as though he meant to leave.
“One of the skulls has a hole in it,” Sara said. “Like someone was hit over the head with a weapon.”
“Sara.” The man sounded as though he was talking to a child. “You aren’t trying to make this into one of those books you write, are you?Love Under the Tree Roots.Something like that?” His face was a smirk.
Jack, his anger now under control, was standing by Sara. When she started to speak, he clamped a hand onto her shoulder.
The sheriff straightened his cuffs and looked back at Kate. “I think I should introduce myself. I’m Sheriff Daryl Flynn. My mother was a Kirkwood.”
Kate could tell this meant something locally. “Like Tayla,” she said. “I work for her.”
“She’s my mother’s cousin and she’s been good for this town. You’re the girl that Alastair Stewart asked out, aren’t you?”
Kate nodded, amazed at the speed of the local gossip.
“That’s good. A pretty girl like you might make sure he moves back here. He’d give this town back its sense of class.” He cut his eyes at Sara. “Too bad about the house being taken away from the family.”
Kate drew in her breath. No house was “taken” from anyone.
“You didn’t hear?” Sara said. Jack still had his hand on her shoulder. “I’m planning to give the house back to him because he’s, you know, a Stewart and I’m just a Medlar. It will be my honor to do so.”
The sheriff looked like he wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not. “I have to go. I’m to give the toast tonight, so I can’t be late.” He took Kate’s hand and held it with both of his. “You’d do well to stick with a Stewart.” He gave a quick look at Jack, making it clear who she was to stay away from. “A connection with a Stewart might mean you could make something of yourself in this town.”
Kate gave a girlish little laugh. “In spite of the fact that I’m a Medlar?”
The sheriff smiled at that and, still holding her hand, looked at Sara. “You got a smart one here. Catches on fast. You could learn from her.” He released Kate’s hand and started for his car. “I’ll send the coroner—or somebody—first thing tomorrow. Have a good night.” He gave a contemptuous look at Jack, got into his car and started the engine.
When Sara made a movement, Jack dropped his crutches to the ground and grabbed her about the waist, her back to his front.
“Let me hit him,” Sara said. “Just one good right. Please. What made me come back to this town? It’s still high school here.”
Jack held her until the sheriff drove out of sight. “Why don’t you take some photos inside the house? There’s only about an hour’s worth of light left.”
