“Sounds like two knuckleheads on a bender,” Henry said.
“I came by here to see if you’d seen anybody prowling around on your back land, especially the northern piece bordering Maud Booker’s place.”
Henry frowned when the sheriff spoke Maud’s name, while I felt like I jumped about four feet in the air.
“Maud know about this?” Fred asked. “If even a rumor of a white deer gets out, hunters won’t leave it alone, posted land or not.”
The sheriff turned to Henry. “You ever go up there?”
“Not in forty years,” Henry said. “I’d forgotten about that cabin, but it was a ruin even then. Augustus and Maud did keep a hawk’s eye out for hunters and ran a few off at gunpoint.”
“And she’s kept it up,” the sheriff said. “Nobody with any sense hunts up that way. I warned Maud not to take the law into her own hands. What I can’t figure out is how those boys knew there was a cabin to see.”
“My journal!” I cried.
Henry turned to me. “What do you know about this?”
“Why, you go in that direction every day,” Fred said, the fact just dawning on him.
“That’s what Henry was saying before you got home,” the sheriff said to me.
“I wasn’t aware you went that far,” Henry said. “What journal are you talking about?”
“My private journal that Ms. Avery gave me. Somebody stole it, and Hargrove’s in my class,” I said, keeping my differences with Hargrove and his daddy to myself.
Hargrove’s father, the mayor, had turned out to be a grown-up version of Hargrove in a suit and tie. Hargrove shrank in his chair the second his daddy came in the principal’s office. He shrank even more when his daddy caught sight of the dog-eared notebook lying wide open on the desk. His daddy frowned at the drawing—a fair pencil sketch of a Henry sculpture I’d shown in my presentation—and then slapped the cover closed and said, “I thought I told you to quit this mess and pay attention in class.” Hargrove looked like a whipped dog. I even felt a little sorry for him till my journal went missing.
“Is there truth to what those boys were saying?” the sheriff asked me. “Because if you were there and had to defend yourself, they were trespassing and full of beer besides, and there won’t be charges.”
The sheriff looked like he was half hoping I had winged Hargrove. They were all three looking at me.
“I’ve never seen any still or boys up that way,” I said honestly. “And I don’t own a bow and arrow. Sounds like somebody’s been reading too much Robin Hood.”
“What about yesterday?” the sheriff asked. “Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?”
“I didn’t see or hear boo yesterday. Not between having my journal stolen and my cat. He sat down at the foot of that trail and wouldn’t budge.”
“What cat?” asked the sheriff, looking around.
“He’s under the house,” Fred told him. “Only comes to her. Follows her around like a little dog. Mutual-admiration society of two.”
“Well, he wasn’t admiring me yesterday,” I said. “Wouldn’t budge for love or Fred’s corned beef.”
“You fed him my slaved-over corned beef!” Fred hollered.
“I’m trying to train him, Fred! Jeezy peezy!”
“I wouldn’t mind laying eyes on this animal,” said the sheriff, looking impressed. “Not every day you meet an honest-to-god guard cat.”
“You might never lay eyes on him,” Fred said. “He’s a one-girl cat.”
“Well, he’s got good sense, I’ll say that,” the sheriff said to me. “And you’re one hundred percent sure you didn’t see anything even a little bit strange?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Well, that’s good enough for me. You stay close to home for now with your cat, and I’ll have my deputy do some extra patrolling on North Road. Call me if you have one whiff of trouble, okay?”
“Will do,” I said.
“Thanks, Sheriff,” Henry said, though he still looked worried. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Same to you,” said the sheriff.
Fred walked the sheriff to his cruiser while Henry stayed back with me. He was working a nut up and down the threads of a bolt and studying me. “Is there anything we need to talk about?” he asked.
I hesitated. “That lady the sheriff mentioned, Maud Booker, she came here. The last time you went down to check on Bessie. She claimed to be my grandmother and said she just wanted to see if I was okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Henry nodded a little. “Do you want to talk about her now? Not that I could tell you much beyond the rumors. My father had women friends; she was one. Maud’s always kept to herself, been fierce about her land and privacy.”
“Later, okay?” I said. I wanted to get to my cabin, make sure everything was all right.
“At dinner, then,” he said. “Anything else?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t want you going up in the woods for a while,” he said sternly.
“I know,” I answered, nodding like I agreed as I backed out the door.
“I mean it, Zoë,” he called after me. “Do you hear me?”
“I hear,” I hollered back. “Loud and clear.”
“If you like, I’ll walk up there with you later, but I can’t go now. I need to keep working on these pieces for Lillian. All right?”
“All right, Uncle Henry,” I called, backing down the drive. “Do what you need to do.”
Mr. C’mere came out from under the crawlspace as the sheriff’s cruiser sped down the drive. We sat on the porch together until Fred drove off and Henry’s grinder started up again. I thanked him for protecting me the day before and gave him the last piece of Fred’s corned beef. Then I sneaked out of the yard and over the bridge, quiet and quick as I could.
She called to him, but she didn’t wait for
