Thunder Moon (Nightcreature 8)

“Marriage means something, Ian.” I thought of my mother. “Or at least it should. And lying—” I stopped.

Why did it bother me so much? Probably because so many men had told me what I wanted to hear, then walked out on me.

You ‘re beautiful, Grace.

I love you, Grace.

I’ll never leave you, Grace.

My wife is gone, Grace.

So I’d started saying good-bye to them before they could say good-bye to me. It was the only way I could keep from getting hurt. I’d waited too long this time.

“This was crazy from the beginning,” I said. “We met three nights ago. Two nights ago we went to the water and—”

“Had sex,” he finished.

“It was too much, too fast. I thought—” I broke off, unable to finish.

He took a step forward, and I narrowed my eyes, daring him to come any closer. His fingers curled against the legs of his slacks, the scritch of his fingernails loud in the sudden silence. “Thought what?”

I’d thought it had meant something. I should have known better. Just because he was Cherokee didn’t make him any less of a man.

Chapter 21

I walked out, and Ian let me. I hadn’t really expected anything else. It wasn’t as if he loved me. It wasn’t as if I loved him.

No time to weep and wail—as if I would. I had an appointment at the cemetery.

Luckily, all of the churches still buried their dead outside of town. We’d have fewer gawkers that way. Not that word of what we were doing wouldn’t get around, but the longer it took, the better.

I turned my car in the opposite direction of Lunar Lake. In the old days it was common practice to construct burial plots as far away from the populace as possible, mostly to keep the roving bands of wild animals from dragging a stray leg or arm under your porch. As time went on and Lake Bluff grew, there wasn’t room for a cemetery in the town proper, but there was plenty of space to expand out where the dead had already been established.

I turned into the gate of Mountain View, saw Doc Bill’s car parked near what must be the grave we were interested in, and pulled up behind him.

Doc was already giving instructions to the man standing next to the machinery. Since he’d only been buried yesterday, no grass covered the grave of Alec Renard, just dirt. According to his obituary, Alec had expired from a stroke. However, according to Alec’s granddaughter, whom I’d spoken with fourth on my happy hit parade of interrogation, Granddad had been as healthy as a horse.

Until he died.

Doc finished speaking with the worker and headed toward me across the lush green carpet that covered the majority of Mountain View.

There truly was a mountain view here, not that any of the

residents would benefit by it. Or maybe they would. What did I know?

This would have been a nice place for my father, except he’d been cremated per his instructions. I’d wanted to keep his ashes with me in the town and the home he’d loved, but he’d specified that all five of his children would take turns. You’d be amazed at some of the stuff people put in their last will and testament. Sheriff McDaniel, senior, had been no exception.

Grandmother had been buried like a true Cherokee on the slope of a forest-clad mountain. Illegal as hell, but by the time I’d told Dad about it, the deed was done.

He hadn’t been happy. My father was the law here, and even if he hadn’t disliked Grandmother with an intensity rivaled only by her dislike for him, he would have put a stop to her being buried as she’d wanted to be. To him, the law was the law and human remains were not to be put into the earth without observation of the required legalities.

I glanced at the white stone markers. It would have been nice to have her closer, in a place like this where I could visit. Although, according to Quatie, Grandmother wasn’t available for visits since she was running around on great, big wolf paws trying to tell me something.

I choked back inappropriate laughter as Doc Bill joined me.

“You okay?” He thumped me between the shoulder blades, just in case.

“Yes. Thanks.” I stepped out of his reach. He might be old, but he still packed quite a punch. “Everything set?”