Chapter 10
T he three of them piled into Grandpa Lee’s pickup truck. Grandpa Lee got behind the wheel, Amiya sat in the middle, and Nick squeezed into the final spot and slammed the door shut behind him.
Nick was waiting for the right moment to bring up selling the property. He had no idea how Grandpa Lee would respond, but his grandfather seemed to be in high spirits, eager to share his world with them, and Nick didn’t want to disrupt the mood, not just yet.
But the offer letter felt as if it were burning a hole in his back pocket.
He noticed that the Ford’s interior, like his granddad’s house, was spotless. It smelled richly of leather and a pleasant, pine-scented air freshener. The dashboard gleamed.
“What year is this truck?” Nick asked.
“It’s a 1982 Ford F-150,” Grandpa Lee said. “I’ve got a hundred and ten thousand miles on the odometer, but I bet I could outlast your high-end vehicle right there.” He snickered.
The engine started with a throaty rumble.
The truck was a stick shift—Nick remembered that his grandfather had actually taught him how to drive a stick—and Grandpa Lee shifted gears easily into reverse.
If Nick had checked under the hood he knew he would have found that the engine was as well maintained as the interior.
His granddad was one of those rare guys who knew how to repair damn near anything.
“The rifle mounted on the rear windshield,” Amiya said, turning slightly to glance behind her. “Why do you need that?”
“That’s a Remington 700 rifle,” Grandpa Lee said. “I’m a country boy at heart. I keep a gun in my truck and one on my hip; always have.”
“You’ve never needed to use it?” Amiya asked. “I was thinking you might have deer or other critters on the property that you needed to regulate.”
“If I ever needed to use my gun here at Westbrook, we’ve got bigger problems,” Grandpa Lee said.
Grandpa Lee steered the truck away from the house and onto one of the narrow dirt lanes that snaked deep into the woods beyond. They bounced along the path.
“Nick told me about how you lock down the house at night,” Amiya said. “What’s that all about?”
“Is this a therapy session?” Nick asked. “Come on, babe.”
She shot him a look. “I don’t mean to be rude. I was only curious. Grandpa Lee is a grown man and can speak for himself.”
Grunting, Grandpa Lee glanced at his watch, squinted at the sky. “We’ve about ten hours of daylight left. That’s a good bit of time for us to enjoy Westbrook and get you kids on your way back home before dusk.”
“What happens here at dusk?” Amiya asked, and Nick wanted to sink onto the floor.
“It’s better to be in the house,” Grandpa Lee said.
“But why?” she asked. “It seems nighttime out here would be gorgeous—there’s no city lights or buildings to block the view of the stars. I’m only trying to understand this in-by-dark rule.”
“Some things you don’t need to understand,” Grandpa Lee said, in a tone that suggested the matter was closed for further discussion.
Thankfully, Amiya let it go. She could be like a bulldog sometimes, a quality that Nick often appreciated about her, but this was one of those instances when it would have been simply rude to keep up the questioning.
They were guests of their grandfather, and he was taking time out of his day to show them around—pissing him off wouldn’t have gained them anything.
Especially considering the potentially explosive discussion Nick planned to broach later on.
Nevertheless, like Amiya, he did wonder about Grandpa Lee’s unreasonable fear of sunset.
What, exactly, was he afraid of? Nick’s best guess was that there might have been bears or something roaming the property.
But if that were true, why couldn’t Grandpa Lee just say so?
Why was he so cryptic about his reasons?
They drove on in silence for several minutes. The surrounding foliage crowded the dirt track, but came short of rendering it impassable. Nick could envision his meticulous grandfather out here with a pair of hedge shears, clipping away the invasive undergrowth.
“We’re crossing over the creek up here,” Grandpa Lee said. “When we go over that bridge, we’re in Westbrook proper.”
Amiya glanced at Nick, a question in her eyes. Nick offered only a shrug. He didn’t understand what his grandfather meant about “Westbrook proper,” didn’t understand why he had given the place a name when it didn’t appear as such on any official map of the area. Grandpa Lee had his eccentric ways.
The bridge spanned about fifteen feet, arching over a bubbling creek. Fashioned from hardwood, the narrow bridge was in excellent condition and held steady as Grandpa Lee steered the truck across.
A wave of heat passed over Nick as they crossed over the creek. Next to him, he felt Amiya tense, too. Then the odd sensation subsided.
Weird , Nate thought. Perhaps it had been only a warm draft of air blowing through the truck’s open windows; the morning was already getting hotter.
“Did you construct that bridge, too?” Amiya asked.
“My granddaddy built it,” he said. “I’ve only had to maintain it.”
“It’s amazing that your family has held onto this land for so long,” Amiya said. “Passing it down from one generation to the next. It’s admirable.”
Nick nudged Amiya with his elbow. Knock it off.
“I’m sure Nick looks forward to inheriting Westbrook someday,” Amiya said.
Nick had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from cussing. He could not believe she was gleefully sabotaging his entire reason for coming here.
“We’ll get around to talking about that when the time is right,” Grandpa Lee said.
“Yes, we will,” Nick said. He stared at Amiya as he said: “It’s private, family business.”
But Amiya only smiled at him and rubbed his knee. He was beginning to regret that he had invited her to come with him, and couldn’t wait to get her alone so he could blast her.
The truck bounced along on the dirt path, winding deeper into the woods.
It might have been only Nick’s imagination, but to him it seemed that once they crossed over the bridge, the forest got thicker: the trees seemed taller, the flowers more vibrant, the smells wafting through the open windows more aromatic.
The wildlife was more abundant, too. He spotted fat squirrels scampering along tree boughs. Birds wheeling high above in the crowns of the trees. What looked like a doe stood off near some shrubs about a dozen yards away, the animal watching them rumble past.
What would happen if the real estate developer took over this property? Nick thought. Would they send in a team of hunters to exterminate the deer and the other animals?
He couldn’t worry about it. Such things were the price of progress, and happened every day.
“It’s lovely back here,” Amiya said.
“Wait until you see the lake,” Grandpa Lee said. He drove around a bend in the road and brought the truck to a stop next to a pine tree. “Here we go. We’ve gotta walk from here.”
They climbed out of the pickup, shut the doors.
Standing outside of the vehicle, the sheer immensity of these woods washed over Nick.
Although his mother had said that they owned nine hundred acres, the forest felt much bigger than that, and seemed far more isolated than its physical location could logically explain.
He didn’t hear any aircraft buzzing past overhead, couldn’t detect any distant sounds of vehicles.
The primacy of undisturbed nature pressed on him like a tangible weight.
I’m just a city slicker, out of my element , Nick thought.
He glanced at Amiya. She had a wide-eyed expression as she looked around, and he supposed she shared his thoughts.
“Come on, y’all,” Grandpa Lee said.
Hands shoved in his overall pockets, Grandpa Lee picked his way ahead on a worn dirt path that twisted through the trees. Amiya followed behind him, and Nick brought up the rear.
Nick noted the density of the tree canopy; leaves obstructed most of the morning’s sunshine, casting the land around them into deep shadow. Amiya looked over her shoulder at where Grandpa Lee had parked the truck. Concern wrinkled her face.
“It seems like you could easily get lost out here,” she said.
“If you don’t know where you’re going,” Nick said. “I definitely wouldn’t want to get caught out here at night.”
“Just on ahead, kids,” Grandpa Lee said.
A few minutes later, they broke through the woods and came into a clearing.
They had reached the shore of the lake. The lake itself, shimmering in the sunlight, spread across an area of several acres.
Gulls swooped and dipped to skim the surface.
Perhaps a dozen yards away, Nick saw a gaggle of geese wading into the water.
“Welcome to Westbrook Lake,” Grandpa Lee said. He ambled to a nearby tree stump and eased down onto it. He snatched a handkerchief out of his front pocket, pulled off his bucket cap hat, and mopped sweat off his bald head and face.
“This is beautiful,” Amiya said, hands on her hips as she swept her gaze back and forth. She glanced at Nick. “You used to come here as a kid?”
“During summers, yeah,” he said. “Grandpa would bring me here to fish.”
“Still plenty of fish in there, son,” Grandpa Lee said. He pulled his hat snug on his head again. “Should have brought your rod and reel. We can do that next time you come through—don’t wait ten years ’til your next visit.” He chuckled.
“Walk with me,” Amiya said, and grasped Nick’s fingers.
Hand in hand, they strolled along the grassy shore. Nick looked over his shoulder. Grandpa Lee stayed behind on the stump, gazing out at the water, immersed in private thoughts.
After they had walked a bit, Amiya turned around. She positioned Nick’s hands along the rise of her hips, slipped her arms around his neck, and pulled him forward into a soft, lingering kiss.
“This must mean you’ve forgiven me for my earlier transgression,” Nick said when their lips parted.
“Maybe.” She kissed him again, pressed her pelvis against his, and his body responded in kind. “It’s so gorgeous out here, it makes me feel . . .”
“Horny?” He grinned.
“Liberated.” She gestured toward the water. “Think about it. This lake, this land, has been here, untouched, for over a hundred years. It’s pristine.”
“Not quite pristine,” Nick said, and nodded at a spot behind her. “Check that out.”
About twenty feet away, in the mud at the edge of the lake, lay the eviscerated corpse of an animal about the size of a small dog. A dark haze of flies buzzed around the creature.
“What the heck is that?” Amiya wrinkled her nose.
“I think it’s a river otter. I don’t know what got ahold of it. A bear maybe?”
“There are bears out here?” She nervously scanned the shoreline and the woods beyond.
“I’ve never seen one, but probably. It could have been a coyote, too. We’ve got those in these parts.”
“Next thing you’ll be telling me that there are lions and tigers out here, too.” She took his hand. “Little wonder Grandpa Lee keeps a handgun and a rifle. Let’s get back.”
“Y’all kids have fun over there?” Grandpa Lee asked. “Thought I was gonna have to fetch you some hay to roll in.”
Amiya blushed, but Nick only smiled. “You know how it is, Grandpa.”
“Don’t I remember.” Grandpa Lee squinted as he looked at the rippling waters. “Good ole days. How times have changed.”
“Yeah, about that,” Nick said. His heart knocked. He retrieved the copy of the letter from his back pocket and unfolded it.
“Nick,” Amiya said, voice strained. “Is this an appropriate time for that?”
Nick ignored her, but his hands shook as he straightened out the paper. Grandpa Lee looked from Amiya to Nick. His brow furrowed.
“What is it?” Grandpa Lee asked.
“Mom got a letter in the mail earlier this week,” Nick said. He cleared his throat. “It’s from Falcon Properties. They contacted Mom because they couldn’t get in touch with you.”
“I get those letters from those property companies, I throw ’em in the trash, don’t open ’em,” Grandpa Lee said. He spat on the ground. “They don’t have anything I want.”
“You should look at this one,” Nick said. He offered the letter to his grandfather.
Grandpa Lee stared at the paper in Nick’s hand.
“They’re offering five thousand dollars an acre, Grandpa,” Nick said. “With all the land we’ve got back here, that’s a sum of over four and a half million dollars. A fortune. We should take the offer.”
“Sell . . . sell Westbrook?” Grandpa spoke slowly, as if the words belonged to a foreign tongue.
“Nick, please,” Amiya said.
Nick silenced her with a sharp look, turned back to his grandfather.
“We may never get an offer like this again,” Nick said. “We need to take it. I can give them a call on Monday and tell them to draw up the contract.”
Slowly, Grandpa Lee rose from the tree stump. With a grunt, he snatched the letter out of Nick’s fingers.
He began to tear it to pieces.
“Hey, come on, man,” Nick said.
“Not selling, goddammit . . .” Grandpa Lee said. He lowered his head, gasped. A violent cough shook him. Redness sprayed from his lips and spattered against the half-shredded letter in his hands.
Is that blood? Nick thought. Oh, Jesus.
Coughing explosively, his body wracked by the savage force of each spasm, Grandpa Lee sank to his knees in the dirt. His eyes rolled back, exposing the whites. Scraps of torn paper, dotted with blood, spun from his hands and scattered across the earth.
Nick rushed forward, Amiya right behind him. He got his arms around his granddad before he could hit the ground, and Amiya helped support him, too.
Grandpa Lee was heavier than he looked, like a dead weight in his embrace. He sagged against Nick. His bifocals hung askew on his face. A frothy mixture of blood and saliva bubbled on his lips.
Nick was dizzy from the sudden turn of events, paralyzed by indecision. He’d never seen anyone collapse like that, had no idea what to do.
Grandpa Lee’s eyes had slid shut.
“He’s still breathing,” Amiya said, perspiration beading her brow. She clasped Grandpa Lee’s hand in hers. “He’s got a pulse, he’s still with us. We’ve gotta get him help, right now, or . . .”
Amiya left the sentence unfinished, but even in the stupefied daze that had slipped over him, Nick realized what she had been about to say.
Or he’s going to die.