Page 6 of Blackwood

“That’s good advice.” He arched a brow at Bonnie. “Even if we’re giving it for different reasons. The ghost talk is ridiculous, and Garrett isn’t a bad guy. You should be out of the woods by sunset because you don’t want to get lost or stay out in these temperatures. Always know where the road is. You got a compass?”

I pulled one from my pocket. “Sure do.” I had two others stowed in my backpack.

“Good. Always check it when you get out of the car.”

I wanted to tell him I could survive in the woods for days, that I’d prepared for handling anything that came my way, that my dad had taught me how to shoot, skin rabbits, read a compass, and build a fire by the time I was twelve. That I had a knife and a gun, and knew how to use both. Instead, I nodded and smiled along like he was giving me the keys to the kingdom.

“How do you even know where to look?” Bonnie still didn’t seem too keen on me exploring alone.

“The Choctaw generally preferred level spots near strong water sources, so I’ll scope those out first.”

“So along rivers and such?” Bonnie crinkled her nose.

“Right. I’m going to start surveying in those areas, see what I can see. All the history I’ve managed to dig up points to a possible Choctaw village at the southwest edge of Blackwood where the trees open up onto a grassy field.”

Sheriff Crow scratched his chin. “I think I know where you mean. It’s a flood plain, more or less. Dark dirt there, good for growing, but I’ve never really dug down. Garrett gave you permission to dig?”

My mouth went dry and I took a sip of coffee before responding. “Yes, well, he gave permission for me to survey. I won’t start digging until the spring when I’ll have undergraduates out here to help me. But, of course, I have to find something first. Some sort of clue to point me in the right direction. If I can find some arrowheads or pottery—any artifacts, really—at a few spots, then I’ll be able to start digging.” I swallowed hard. “With Mr. Blackwood’s permission, naturally.”

“Right.” He thanked Bonnie as she set his plate in front of him, the grits swimming in butter. “Like I said, if you need anything or get into any issues out there, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Though I felt more than prepared for my task, it was comforting to know I had backup if I ran into any trouble. “Will do.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ve interrupted you for long enough.” He gave me another smile, the wrinkles around his eyes barely making an appearance. “Bonnie might take my head off if I talk until your food gets cold.”

“You do like to talk, Sheriff.” She grinned and twirled a lock of hair around her finger, the flirtation obvious and only slightly awkward. “Good thing I don’t mind listening.”

“Bonnie,” Ty called from the back.

She rolled her eyes, then disappeared through the narrow door into the kitchen.

I sliced through my eggs and scooped them onto my toast as two men from a logging truck walked into the diner. They exchanged bleary-eyed “good mornings” and sat down at the bar. I’d only taken a few more bites when the door opened again.

A man in an ill-fitting navy suit hustled in. His collar hung loose around his neck, as if he’d lost a great deal of weight but still felt he could wear the super-size clothes. He gave me a lopsided smiled and plunked down next to Sheriff Crow. Something about his gray hair and sagging face seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Sheriff.”

“Mayor.” Sheriff Crow took a long pull from his cup. “You aren’t going to the winter market opening?”

Mayor.I’d seen him before in news clippings, but he’d been a much larger man. He must have dropped the weight recently. He was only forty-five but looked more like a shrunken sixty.

“Of course.” He shot a glance to the kitchen door. “Where’s Bonnie, and who do we have here?” He turned to me.

“This is Elise from the university. She’s doing the—”

“Digging. Right?” The mayor leaned backward so he could see me past the sheriff. “Out on the western side of the county?”

“Yes.” I took a bite of cheese grits. “I’m surveying out there and digging if the property owners agree.”

He drew his gray brows together. “Just don’t bother anyone. I have enough complaints to deal with around here.”

“Len.” Sheriff Crow clapped him on the back. “Come on. She may bring more visitors to the county. Money, too. What if she finds some sort of, I don’t know, village or something? Good press.”

I took a swig of my coffee to try and fight off the awkward the mayor’s words had created.

“Bonnie!” he called. “I need my regular to go.”

“Heard.” Ty’s voice floated across the pass-through, and I was beginning to suspect he was a ghost.

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