CHAPTER 25
Wyatt stared at Max.“Tell me what you know.”
“My aunt and uncle live up in the mountains,” he said. “Herb and Billie Grady. Been up there thirty years. They have about five hundred acres where they homestead There’s even an old hotel at the back of the property—run-down now and not safe. But about eighty years ago, people used to travel from all over to visit.”
“What else?” Wyatt asked.
Max blew out a breath. “They grow most of what they eat, keep to themselves, and don’t want much to do with the rest of the world. They’ve got a great setup there near the top of the mountain where they can see everyone coming and going. In fact, at one time it was in consideration to be listed as a historical site. One of the Civil War battles took place there. Anyway, I go up once a week to check on them and bring supplies if they need anything.”
Wyatt tucked all those details away. “How do you get to their place?”
“You get there by using the old logging road off the east side of the forest. It hasn’t been maintained in years, but it’s passable if you know where you’re going.” Max shrugged one shoulder.
“That’s in the same basic area where Earl Sutton lives,” Caleb said. “He mentioned seeing lights in the woods out there. Could be connected.”
Wyatt nodded in agreement.
“About six, seven months ago Herb started noticing vehicles on that road,” Max continued. “Not rangers or Forest Service. Mostly trucks. Mostly at night.”
Wyatt leaned forward. “What kind of trucks?”
“Older models. Personal vehicles. Uncle Herb didn’t think much of it at first. People use those old roads sometimes—usually hunters or hikers. But it kept happening. Then the gunshots started.”
Wyatt sucked in a breath. “Hunters?”
“If I remember correctly, everything started at the end of the summer.” Max’s eyes narrowed with thought. “Uncle Herb and Aunt Billie know these mountains. They tried to mind their own business about it, but . . .”
Wyatt’s jaw tightened. “But they were concerned.”
As they should be.
“About a month ago they brought it up again.” Max rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Said the activity had picked up. Said there were more vehicles, more lights in the trees at night, more sounds they couldn’t identify. I told them I’d look into it.”
“Did you?” Caleb asked.
“I drove up the logging road on my last visit. About a mile in, off to the left side where the trees thickened, there’s an old pine. Big one. Been there longer than anyone in this room.” Max paused. “Someone had carved something into the bark.”
Wyatt went still as he anticipated what Max was about to say. “What was it?”
“A circle,” Max said. “With a burning tree inside it.”
Kori listened as everyone talked about what Max had told them.
There were no conclusions, just chatter. Worry. There wasdefinitelyworry in their voices.
Then Wyatt glanced at his watch. “I should probably get back. I still have a lot to do.”
Kori caught Wyatt’s eye as he reached for his jacket. “Can I have a minute before you go?”
“Of course.” He nodded toward the front door.
She followed him out onto the wide covered porch, pulling the door shut behind her.
The pond caught a faint reflection of the light below. Everything else was black and still.
She pulled her jacket tighter and stood beside him at the railing. “That symbol keeps coming up. What do you think it means? And how is Mackenzie connected to all of this?”
“All we have are guesses right now. There’s an anthropology professor at Virginia Tech who studies regional movements and their symbolism. I sent her an email today. Maybe she’ll have an idea.”
