Blood Ties (2 page)

"Why is she Night Horse and you're Knight with a K?"

"Long story." Karen hurried forward to give her
daughter a hug. "We expected you an hour ago."

The young woman removed her glasses. "Indian
time, Anati."

"That's Lenape for Mom," Karen explained. She
was shorter than her daughter by a head, but it was
easy to tell they were blood kin. They shared the
same dark hair and eyes, copper skin, and high cheek
bones. At least Emma supposed that Karen's hair
had once been as glossy black as the girl's. Now, age
had seasoned Karen's with feathers of pure white.
Her daughter's tan was darker, but Emma knew she'd
just gotten back from three months in Phaistos, in
Crete, where she'd been working on an archaeological dig.

"Welcome to Tawes, Abigail." Emma offered a callused hand. "I'm Emma Parks. You two will be staying
with me while you investigate the Indian burial ground
on the far side of the island."

The young woman's serious expression dissolved
into a genuine smile. Her teeth were white and even,
as perfect as any movie star's. "Please, call me Abbie."

The young woman's hand was lean and strong, and
she looked Emma in the eyes. Emma liked that. She
never trusted a creature that wouldn't look you straight
on, neither human nor animal. These two seemed like
good folks, even if they were from the mainland. And
they were Bailey's friends. Emma put a heap of faith in
Bailey's good sense.

"The site is an ideal spot for archaic hunter-gatherers
to make camp. Possibly early Algonquin." Karen said.
"Bailey Tawes took me out there yesterday."

"I can't wait to see it," Abbie answered.

Emma shrugged. "Just as well you weren't here yesterday."

Karen shot her a warning look. "Later," she mouthed
behind Abbie's back, and then asked, "How's your
dad?" as the three of them walked away from the red helicopter toward the pasture fence.

"Same as always. Excited over a new Andalusian
mare he just bought from Spain. Feathers ruffled that
I wouldn't stay for the powwow."

"You could have. I could have managed for a few
days."

Abbie shook her head. "It's not until next weekend,
and if I agreed to stay, he would have wanted me to
dance. He always wants me to dance. The last time I
wore that regalia, my buckskins were too tight."

Emma arched a graying eyebrow. To her way of
thinking, Karen's girl Abbie was thin as a rail and
needed feeding. Karen said she didn't have a beau,
and it was no wonder. Most men would rather have
something soft to cuddle up to on a cold night than
hug a broom stick. "I can't tell you how much it means
to all of us on the island, your being here. Volunteering to see what's out there in the marsh. We wanted to
get the state archaeological people in, but you know
what dealing with bureaucracy is like."

Karen laughed. "Don't we just."

"Glad to help," Abbie said.

"Abbie's been in Crete this summer," Karen explained. "What with my project in Canyon de Chelly,
we haven't seen much of each other this year."

"I hope you both like chicken and dumplings,"
Emma said. "I've got fresh corn on the cob, and my
mother-everybody calls her Aunt Birdy-sent over a
blueberry pie."

Karen groaned. "I warned you. Emma's meals are to
die for, but I'll be twice my size in a week."

"You look great, Anati. If anything, you've slimmed
down since you were in Athens."

"Right. Isn't that what your father's been saying for
twenty years?" Karen rolled her eyes.

"So, maybe it's true. I like you fine, just the way you
are."

Emma climbed over the split rail fence and motioned for them to follow. "There's a gate up near
Mama's house, but this is quicker."

"Obviously, there's no airstrip on Tawes," Abbie said.

Emma chuckled. "No stop signs, no cars, no traffic
lights or taverns, and not much in the way of roads. I
bought myself a four-wheel 'gator last fall, but most
folks walk or go by water."

"And Bailey offered us the use of her horses," Karen
said. "After walking that marsh trail, I'm ready to saddle up."

"You'd be welcome to borrow my skiff," Emma offered, "but the water's shallow in that marsh. Takes a
flat-bottomed pram or a little aluminum to get
through the guts and into the beach. I've got one of
those, but I need it to check my crab traps every day."

"You're a crabber?" Abbie asked.

"Used to call myself one. Started on my daddy's
workboat when I was knee-high to a duck. Time I was
fourteen, I had thirty pots of my own. Used to tend
them before school. But it's a hard life, scratching a
life out of the bay. Up at four, out on the water by five,
rain or shine. Some days you come back loaded with
jimmies; other days, you don't catch enough to pay for
gas." Emma grimaced. "Too old and not enough ambition to do it anymore."

"I'd assumed we'd rent a boat here on Tawes to go
back and forth to the dig. If there's no good place to set
the R22 down near there, we could reach it by water."

"Bailey has open pasturage," Karen said. "We hiked
in to the site from her house yesterday. There's a Mr. Williams who lives closer. I met him yesterday, but I
don't know if any of his property is clear enough to
land safely."

Emma frowned. "George has let the place get overrun with trees. Used to be good farmland, but George
is getting long in the tooth. Now he mostly crabs.
Elizabeth's"-she corrected herself- "Bailey's, that's
your closest access. And nobody on Tawes rents out
their boats. You might find a skiff in Crisfield by the
week. Won't come cheap, though."

"How do people get back and forth to the mainland? To Annapolis? Or to Maryland's Eastern Shore?
Isn't there a ferry?"

Emma shook her head. "During the school year,
there's one that carries the kids to high school in
Crisfield. Some folks take it to do their dealin' at one
of the big supermarkets. But, it don't run in summer."

"And you fussed when I said I was bringing the helicopter?" Abbie threw her mother an I told you so look.

"What's the cost of fuel for that thing?" Karen
countered.

"Dad offered, and I took him up on it. It will come
in handy for flying to Philly."

"You know I worry about you in small planes."

"Safer than driving to the airport."

"I know. You've told me that often enough."

"I want to warn you, Abbie. You can't always depend
on phones here on the island. Half the time there's no
signal."

"That's the truth," Karen agreed. "Yesterday, when
Bailey and I ..." She trailed off. "Let's just say that
when we needed the cell phone to work, it was as dead
as a log." Emma's mother's farm wasn't far from the
village. A ten-minute walk took them down a dusty
lane and past a cluster of tidy nineteenth century homes, interspersed with large two-story farmhouses.
Most had barns and carriage houses, picket fences,
and brick chimneys.

"You won't get lost in Tawes, once you get your bearings." Emma pointed. "Up there's the main street.
Hang a left, you pass the church. Keep walking, you
come to the town dock. Turn right, you'll see Dori's,
the town's only market. There used to be more stores
when the oyster shucking house and the canning factory were open."

"Reminds me of Cape May," Abbie said. "That green
house is definitely early Victorian, and the mustardcolored one on the other side of the street is a Greek
Revival."

"Closer to the dock is the old part of town. A few
homes stood here since before the Revolution. Wait
until you see Forest McCready's mansion."

"I never expected to find anything like this on the
East Coast," Abbie said. "Rural charm without commercialization."

"Things don't change much on Tawes. Folks like it
that way. We Parkses have been here since the 1600s."

Karen admired a grape arbor that arched over a log
bench in the nearest yard. "So a lot of the old families
must be related."

"True enough," Emma said. "I've got so many cousins
and cousins twice-removed livin' on this island, I never
rightly counted them all. As a matter of fact, you
might say we're woodpile cousins."

"How's that?" Abbie asked.

"According to Mama, her grandmother on her
daddy's side was pure Nanticoke. We sure all got the
dark hair. Leastways, mine was black when I was a
sprout."

"I'm familiar with the Nanticoke tribe," Karen said.
"One of the grad students at Penn was from Lewes, Delaware, and she said she was Nanticoke."

"Mama always said the Nanticokes and the Powhatan
were cousins to the Lenape over on Delaware Bay. Used
to speak the same talk."

"I wonder," Abbie said, "why it was always Grandmom who was an Indian and not Grandpop."

Karen wrinkled her nose and gave Abbie that secret
look that mothers do when they want their daughters
to hush up, but Emma didn't take offense.

"Can't say about folks in other parts, "Emma said,"
but here on the Chesapeake, when the first settlers
came from the old country, white men outnumbered
the white women twenty to one for more than a hundred years. Guess it was natural some would take Indian wives. And who would make a better partner than
a girl who was used to living off the land?"

"I think you're right," Karen agreed.

Emma quickened her step. "There's my boardinghouse on the left. The white two-story with the blue
shutters." She stopped and shaded her eyes with a
broad hand. "Unless my sight's goin' the way of my
knees, I believe that's our new police chief."

A tall, sandy-haired man in his late thirties rose
from the porch swing and ambled down the front
steps. "Afternoon, ladies."

"Is this a social visit, or is it official?" Emma asked.

"I needed to ask Dr. Knight a few more questions."

"Certainly, Chief Davis, "Karen said." I hope you
haven't been waiting long. My daughter just flew in
from Philadelphia to assist with the preliminary site
evaluation. She's a doctorate student at the University
of Pennsylvania."

The girl introduced herself. "Abbie Night Horse."

"Is that Miss or Mrs.?"

"Single, if that's what you want to know."

He nodded. "Ms. Night Horse. Pleased to meet you."

Emma could hardly hide her amusement. Abbie was
inspecting the police chief with the appetite of a starving woman who'd just stumbled onto a hot chickenand-dumpling dinner, and the Davis boy was eyeing
her with equal enthusiasm.

"Hmmm." Emma cleared her throat. "It was Karen
you came to question, wasn't it, Chief? Abbie hasn't
been on Tawes twenty minutes."

His grin widened as his eyes sparked mischief. "It
was, Miss Emma. Thank you for reminding me." He
nodded to Abbie again. "A pleasure, ma'am." His wit
was sharp, but his words were slow and lazy, his voice
laced with the island way of talking. Emma was glad
that all those years in Delaware hadn't made him
sound like a mainlander.

"You already said that." Abbie's gaze lingered on the
width of his shoulders, then moved down over his
tight gray T-shirt to his flat stomach. She stared just a
few seconds too long for good manners-at his jeansclad hips and then took in his worn cowboy boots.
"You ride, Chief Davis?"

"Any chance I get."

Emma had the distinct feeling they were not talking
about horses. It was heating up fast on this porch. "I'll
just put some ice in the glasses and get that chicken on
the table," she said. "Buck? You're not too busy to eat,
I hope." Emma glanced at Karen. "He's been staying
with his brother Nate, but Nate's wife Faith isn't the
best cook on Tawes."

"Will you be staying for dinner, Ms. Night Horse?"
Buck asked.

"'Course, she will," Emma said. "She and Karen are
rooming with me here while they poke around the Indian site. Where else would they eat?"

"I see." He took a pen and notepad out of his back pocket. "And are these your only guests at present?"

"Yep," Emma said. "Just the two of them."

"So you still have that room vacant you mentioned
last week?"

"Hasn't been used since Christmas when Daniel
left."

"Would it suit you if I moved in tomorrow? Nate's
house is getting a little crowded for the six of us."

"Suits me fine." Emma put her hand on the screen
door. "I could use some help in the kitchen. Abbie?"

"Certainly. But I'm curious. My mother's only been
here two days, Chief Davis. What's she done that merits police interrogation?"

"I was waiting to tell you when you got here," Karen
explained. "Bailey and I discovered a drowning victim
out at the site. It was pretty gruesome."

"You found a body?"

Yesterday morning. One that had been in the water
awhile. We attempted to call the authorities, but I
couldn't get a signal on my cell. We went to Mr.
Williams's house and he was kind enough to help."
Karen looked at Buck. "Has the victim been identified?"

"Not officially, but-"

"Roger Gilbert's boy, Sean," Emma said, "from over
on Deal Island."

"That's not public information yet," Buck interjected.

"His uncle's boat." Emma rested her palm on the
door frame. "The dead boy's the right age, and Sean's
been missing. He's a midshipman at the Academy in
Annapolis, second year. Was," she corrected. "His parents called the undertaker, and neighbors are bringing funeral hams. It's Sean Gilbert, right enough."

"Thanks, Miss Emma. I can finish this up without
your help."

She pursed her mouth. "Just stating facts. Wish it was some stranger instead of a Deal boy." Emma motioned to Abbie. "We may as well get the food on, since
it's obvious we're in the way here."

Abbie stepped into the entrance hall; Emma followed and let the door bang behind her. A fat tabby
cat mewed a welcome from the wide staircase. "You
can go up and get unpacked if you want. Mind you
don't tread on Linus there. He's a good mouser, but
he's always underfoot. The doors are all marked. I put
you in the Carolina Wren room. Your mother's in the
Robin's Nest, across the hall. There's just one bathroom upstairs for the guests."