Grant Me The Moon Page 4

  “Don’t even get my mind started in that direction.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the ranch.”

  “Good night.” Her chuckle turned into a giggle. “Thanks for another interesting evening.”

  Chapter Four

  Wednesday afternoon, Grant listened to Tory’s lecture delivered to a group of high school kids at the archaeology dig on his land. Even dressed in jeans and tee-shirt she was elegant. Two other chaperones kept their eyes focused on the students. He’d met her friend Pamela and another teacher named Jessica.

  Beside him, his brother Brad ogled Tory. “I don’t remember any of my teachers looking like that. She is hot, even surrounded by a bunch of teens.”

  Grant nudged his brother. “You were too busy chasing cheerleaders to focus on a teacher.”

  “I’d remember if one looked like her. Wonder if she’s married?”

  Sliding his hands into the back pockets of his Wranglers, Grant shook his head. “She’s single, but that doesn’t matter as far as you’re concerned. I’m warning you off because I met this lady first.”

  Brad stepped back and stared at him. “Whoa, big brother. Never known you to be so possessive. You just met the woman.”

  Grant watched Tory, admiring her command of the class and subject. “Sometimes that’s all it takes. First time I saw her on our porch, I was a goner. I hope she’s attracted to me too.” But he knew she was and he was grateful. He’d have to convince her to save all her time for him. “You’re welcome to her friend Pamela. I think the other one is married.”

  Tory interrupted his plotting. “Mr. Grant Grayson, will you tell us how you discovered this site?”

  Grant ambled closer to the kids. “If you remember the heavy rain we had in April, you won’t be surprised to hear there was a flash flood down this ravine, which leads to the West Fork of the Brazos. The next time I rode out here, I found a portion of the ravine wall had washed or fallen away.”

  He pointed to a trickle of water. “Turns out, that spring never made it to the surface, but you can see that it seeps enough to keep a constant dribble of moisture that pools at the back. That’s likely what attracted and sustained the people who used this site as a camp.”

  Moving closer to students, he faced them. “They’ve found two Clovis points, a giant tusk, and tools and flakes from other points. One of the interesting things separating this site from the other Garza site is the skeleton of a bison.”

  A tall student who’d been making drawings raised his hand. “Have you found human remains here?”

  Grant nodded at the student. “Good question. No, the only human remains found at a Clovis site were of a child in Montana.”

  The same kid raised his hand again. “What about baskets or pots?”

  “Another good question. What’s your name?”

  “Jacob Brewster, sir.”

  “Well, Jacob, as a matter of fact, they’ve found parts of baskets, but nothing intact. The largest section of woven grass is four inches by six inches but a design is still visible. These are the only basket pieces associated with a Clovis site except for Pendejo Cave in New Mexico. The probable reason for these remains still being here is that this cave was sealed off by a landslide, most likely in a heavier rain and flash flood than the one that opened up the cave in April. Apparently, the humans who used this cave had departed before the flood or perhaps they only lived here part of the year.”

  Grant gestured upward to a blackened area. “You can see the result of campfires on the cave’s ceiling. Imagine what life was like back in prehistoric times with only the fire to light their camp.”

  A girl with a blond ponytail hugged her arms. “I don’t think I’d like to be here at night with only a small fire.”

  Jacob shook his head. “No, Angela, it wouldn’t have been so bad because they didn’t know anything different. I imagine they felt safe here.”

  Grant nodded. “Correct. Finding a cave on a slope gave them protection. I believe they would have thought themselves fortunate.”

  Another student, a girl with frizzy brown hair, raised her hand. “Who’s doing the digging?”

  “The team is headed by Dr. Fred Lawson from Texas Tech University. He’s promised that at least a portion of the artifacts will be on view at the university museum.”

  A short boy at the side raised his hand. “I thought there’d be a tent where they took all the artifacts to clean them before they went to the museum.”

  “Like the movies, right?” Grant grinned at the boy. “Normally there would be but there’s not a suitable place to set up. Although the ravine’s sand is flat, if we get a hard rain, that will be flooded again. To set up tents nearby, they’d have to climb to the top of the ravine. Hardly convenient for each discovery. The only other place that’s flat is this cave.

  “I assure you a photo is taken of each discovery in location and marked on a grid map.” He tapped the now empty Formica-topped table that looked as if it came from an office supply. “They have this set up for sorting and initial cleaning. All the discoveries are taken away daily when they leave. Further cleaning and cataloging are done at the university.”

  Tory clapped her hands. “Take another look around and then very carefully make your way down the stairs. No horseplay. Go stand by the car in which you came and wait for your chaperone.”

  She turned to Grant. “Thank you for allowing us access to this wonderful site, Mr. Grant Grayson,” she nodded to Brad, “and Mr. Brad Grayson.”

  Several students echoed her remark with, “Thank you”.

  Jessica, the athletic-appearing sponsor, descended first to take charge of students once they reached the ravine. Grant supposed the twelve students filed as orderly as kids that age can. At least, no one fell in spite of a couple of boys pretending they were going to toss one another from the cave.

  Tory snapped, “Brett and Jimmy, stop that right now. This is not a playground.”

  The two boys straightened up immediately and joined the others.

  She went last. He saw when she took a bracing breath and he recalled her fear of heights.

  He asked, “Should I go down with you, Dr. Fraser?”

  After flashing him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she said, “Thank you, but I-I have to do this to save face.”

  “How about Brad goes before you and I go behind. No one will think anything of two men wanting to be near a pretty woman.” He intended to nudge Brad, but his brother was already stepping in front of Tory.

  At the first step, Brad gave the smile he used to charm women. “If you have trouble, put a hand on my shoulder.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen.” She gingerly placed her feet on the first tread.

  She took each step slowly. Halfway down, Grant thought she must have stared at the ground below. Rocking, she almost stumbled and grabbed Brad’s shoulder to stabilize herself.

  Grant reassured her, “Don’t worry, you’re doing fine. Don’t look at the ravine’s sand again.”

  Without taking her gaze from the steps, she asked, “How did you know I did?”

  “Saw you, and then you almost missed the next tread. Good thing Brad was in front of you or you would have fallen.”

  All the same, Grant didn’t like the way she held on to his brother. He chided himself for the thought. Admitting he hardly knew Tory, and he had no call to get in a pissing contest with lady’s man, charmer Brad didn’t help.

  Once they were on the ravine’s sandy surface, her students clapped.

  The Brewster kid said, “We knew you could do it, Dr. Fraser.”

  Blushing, she turned to Grant and extended her hand to shake his. “Thank you for letting us come and for your help, Mr. Grant Grayson. I appreciate the effort and time this cost you. And thank you, too, Mr. Brad Grayson.”

  Brad held her hand in his. “My pleasure. Anytime you need anything, anything at all, let me know.”

  Apparently immune to his brother’s tactics, Tory flashed a wr
y grin and pulled her hand from his. She turned back to face the students. “Everyone into the car in which you came.” She strode to her Prius and climbed behind the steering wheel.

  Within a few minutes, they were driving down the sandy ravine and up to the dusty road.

  Grant clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Nice try, Romeo, but I don’t think she fell for you.”

  He laughed. “Aw, I wouldn’t horn in on your girl. Not really. Just keeping in practice.”

  * * *

  Since daybreak Thursday, Grant, his brother, and two of their ranch hands had been herding cows toward other pastures. The noon sun beat down on them from the cloudless azure sky. In spite of a slight breeze, sweat trickled down his spine and beaded on his brow.

  When his cell phone rang, he removed a glove and retrieved the annoying device from his snapped-down shirt pocket. “Grant Grayson here.”

  He recognized the voice as Tory Fraser, but her voice trembled. “Oh, Grant, something awful has happened. Jacob Brewster has been arrested for the murder of the man in charge of the dig. Since it was on your land, I wanted to reassure you that none of my students would do anything like that. I know Jacob is innocent.”

  “Wait a minute. Do you mean Dr. Lawson is dead?”

  As she spoke, he pictured her perfect face and her blonde hair hanging free on her shoulders. “Grad students discovered his body this morning. The sheriff found Jacob’s backpack and arrested him. Jacob swears he didn’t kill Lawson and I believe him. Can you do anything?”

  He considered the work he needed to finish. But, he’d liked the Brewster kid and he definitely could stand to see Tory again. “I’ll go home and clean up. Are you at school?”

  “Yes, but I’m so upset I can’t concentrate. This is just horrible.”

  “See you soon.” He disconnected and explained to his brother.

  Brad shook his head. “Kids, but I never liked that Lawson. I’ll go to the dig site and see what I can learn. Catch you at home later.”

  Grant explained the situation to Rusty Whitaker, Dub Hartford, and Slim Jones before he turned his horse and headed home. As he rode, he wondered who’d killed Lawson. If the man had acted to everyone the way he had to Grant and Brad, plenty of people had disliked him.

  At home, he showered and dressed in clean clothes before he drove his Navigator to the high school. He had no idea where Tory’s classroom was located. All doors except the one by the reception desk were kept locked and could only be opened from the inside.

  At the reception desk he encountered Mrs. Muldoon, the woman who’d been there when he was a student twelve years ago. She’d seemed old then but he realized she was only in her early sixties now.

  “Why, Grant Grayson, as I live and breathe. Don’t tell me you’ve been sent to the principal’s office again.” She chuckled at her joke.

  He took off his hat. “Hello, Mrs. Muldoon. Can you tell me how to find Dr. Fraser?”

  “I’ll call her and tell her you’re here. No one’s allowed to wander the hall now, bad as that sounds. Sadly, times have changed since you were here.” She picked up a handset and dialed a number. “Dr. Fraser, honey, Grant Grayson is here to see you.”

  She hung up the receiver and leaned forward conspiratorially. “She tells me to call her Tory, but of course I can’t if any of the students or parents can hear.”

  He smiled at the friendly secretary he believed knew everything that went on in the school and probably the town. “You always were very proper. Nice to see you’re still keeping tabs on everything.”

  “I love my job, but getting up early is getting harder. I have enough numbers to retire now, and I may not come back next year. Oh, here she comes.”

  Grant turned to see Tory walking so fast she was practically running down the hall. She grabbed his arm as if she were drowning and he was a life preserver. She carried her purse.

  “Thank you for coming. Our principal is at the sheriff’s office now trying to get Jacob released. Friends have consented to cover my classes the rest of the day.” She nodded at Mrs. Muldoon and guided Grant out the door.

  “How’s that going to work?”

  “I have a conference period now, which only leaves two more classes for this afternoon. Each of the teachers helping is using her conference period to cover for me. The students will have a study hall instead of learning history. They know Jacob was arrested, so I don’t think they’ll be able to concentrate.”

  They’d reached his SUV and he opened the door for her, thinking it too bad her long, gorgeous legs were covered in slacks. “Study hall is nice for the kids.”

  “Everyone is worried about Jacob. Sheriff Barstow and his deputy came to school to take him in for questioning. Mr. Price, our principal, got the sheriff’s permission to accompany them while Mrs. Muldoon called Jacob’s mom. His father is dead and his mom works in the cafeteria. Mrs. Brewster and Mr. Price went with Jacob to the sheriff’s office.”

  “He a popular kid?”

  “Yes, in fact, all the teachers and most of the kids like him. He’s President of the Honor Society and the History Explorer’s Club and was Homecoming King.” She talked rapidly, as if doing so would propel the Navigator faster.

  Grant had formed a picture of Jacob’s background while Tory spoke. “How long has his dad been dead?”

  “Years, though I’m not sure how many. I think Jacob was about twelve when his father was killed in a car wreck. Anyway, I know he’s innocent no matter what the sheriff found. Jacob would never hurt anyone except in defense of someone else.”

  A worried frown marred her beautiful face. “Grant, the bad thing is he has a full scholarship to Texas Tech and this could cause him to lose it. His mom doesn’t have the money to send him to a university, even a state one. If he has to work his way through, he’ll take longer and might be seven or eight years instead of four. Worse, he might become discouraged and quit school.”

  They pulled up in front of the Garza County Sheriff’s Office and went into the building.

  Grant guided her to the front desk. “Let me do the talking. I know most of the deputies.”

  To the woman on the other side of the counter, he said, “Hello, Debbie Sue. We’re here to see Jacob Brewster, the young man brought in after the archaeologist was found dead.”

  “Oh, yes, that was on your land, wasn’t it? Sorry, but you’ll have to wait over there.” She indicated a row of chairs.

  Tory spluttered, “But—”

  Grant tugged her to the seats and spoke low. “Don’t make waves. I’ll see what else I can learn.” Aloud, he said, “I’ll see if I can find any vending machines. I didn’t have lunch.”

  He walked down the hall toward where he knew the snack room was located but instead went to the see his buddy, Earl Dennis.

  His friend looked up from a stack of papers and gestured to the chair near his desk. “Hey, Grant, what brings you here?”

  “Came to see what I can learn about the murder on my ranch and the charges against the kid, Jacob Brewster. Any way you can shed some light for me?”

  Looking around, Earl leaned forward. “The sheriff is pulling his hair. He wants to hold the kid. The professor was killed with a knife found in the Brewster kid’s backpack, but the prints were wiped clean. Kid says the backpack is his but the knife isn’t. School principal and kid’s mom are in there with him.”

  “So he’s in big trouble?”

  “Yeah. Weird story. Says he went there to spend the night in the cave so he could see what it was like for the people who had lived there. Had a blanket in his backpack.”

  Uh oh, Grant recalled asking the kids to visualize what it like in the cave in prehistoric times. He didn’t intend for them to find out for themselves. “Was he there when Lawson was killed?”

  “Claims he set down his backpack but before he could open it, he stumbled on the body. He panicked and ran. Didn’t call it in either.”

  “He must have realized he’d left his pack there.”
>
  Earl shrugged. “Eh, kids, what’re you gonna do?” The deputy grabbed his sheaf of papers and a pen. “Why don’t you come back in an hour or so? Might be able to get you in to see him.”

  Grant could take a hint, but he had another question. “If he’s not under arrest, why can’t he go home or back to school?”

  “We can hold him for seventy-two hours. Don’t imagine the sheriff will.”

  “Thanks, Earl. See you later.” Grant hurried back to where he’d left Tory.

  When he entered the front hall, he saw her listening to Mr. Price, the high school principal. Tory had her arms around a weeping woman he decided must be Jacob’s mom. The frail-looking woman still wore her lunchroom uniform.

  “Hello, Mr. Price, and you must be Mrs. Brewster. How is Jacob?”

  The principal glanced at Mrs. Brewster and shook his head. “Holding up well under the circumstances, but he’s plenty scared.”

  Mrs. Brewster swiped at her eyes with a large white handkerchief, probably courtesy of Mr. Price. “I know Jacob’s innocent. Why won’t they let him go with us? He admitted he was there and told his story to the sheriff a dozen times. That knife isn’t his.”

  Grant sympathized with the woman. “My deputy friend told me to come back in an hour and maybe I could talk to Jacob.” He knelt in front of Mrs. Brewster. “Do you have someone who can stay with you? A neighbor, a relative?”

  She wrung the handkerchief in her hands. “I don’t know. I guess my sister could when she gets off work. She’s at the elementary school cafeteria.”

  Mr. Price checked his watch. “She’ll be off in a few minutes. Why don’t I take you home, Ruth? I’ll wait with you until your sister can come over.”

  Tory looked up. “I can stay with her until someone else is available.”

  Grant said, “If you’ll tell me where you live, Mrs. Brewster, I’ll come by after I’ve talked to Jacob.” He stood and nodded to Tory. “I can take you to get your car then.”

  They parted and Grant sat down on the bench to wait his turn to see Jacob Brewster.

  Chapter Five

  Grant had read an abandoned copy of Thursday’s Lubbock Avalanche-Journal until he had run out of news and classifieds and considered scanning the fashion and gossip section. He was looking around the area for any other reading material when Earl gestured to him. Moving swiftly, Grant followed the deputy.