“I’ll start here,” he pointed at the sketch. “You start over there, and we’ll work our way toward each other.”
Susan glared at the man, words begging to be freed from her pursed lips at his interference, but something deep inside told her that this was a good plan. “Why don’t I take this side,” she sassed. “You go over there.”
“If that’s what you want,” David met her hard gaze, “I just figured since I’m already wet you would want me to traipse through the swampy bits.”
Susan felt a soft blush creep up her neck as she turned to the area he had indicated on the make shift map. The grass there was reedy, wide, and tall indicating that the ground was damp. Without another word, she moved forward making her way to her assigned spot.
“Bossy,” the young woman mumbled stopping to look down at the base of a big tree and marking her steps in her mind. It irked her that she had brought his man to the place she had visited so often only to have him think out a practical plan for searching every square inch of the glade.
“Anything?” David shouted from the opposite side of the field.
“What do you think we’re going to find after all these years?” Susan knew her voice was sharp, but she didn’t like this development one bit.
“I don’t know,” the young man’s voice echoed in the clearing, “a piece of metal, glass, an old bridle.”
Susan turned glaring at the man. “A bridle, why would there be a bridle?” She placed her hands on her hips giving the man her most scathing stare.
“Your grandmother said the horse had no halters, or anything. Maybe they were tied up and lost them or something.”
This time Susan did roll her eyes, but she quickly dropped them to where here feet were making soft tracks in the earth.
For the next hour the two people traipsed back and forth across the plot, pausing to compare what they saw and jot notes in the journal.
“We haven’t found anything,” Susan grumbled. “This is a complete waste of time.” Her shoes were soggy, her temper rising, and her irritation with the man was a pebble in her shoe.
David looked down at his notebook, as shadows began to fall across his face, setting his high cheekbones and square jaw in contrast. “One more place,” he mused. “If you’ll take that square,” he pointed at a block of lines on the page. “I’ll take this one.”
Susan stomped off toward a large old oak tree, mumbling about wasted time under her breath. Walking around the base of the tree, kicking her feet, Susan yelped as her toe connected with a root. “Ouch!” she shouted, hopping on one foot.
“Are you okay?” David trotted over to where Susan was dancing around on one foot. “What happened?”
Susan stopped, still balancing on one foot. “What’s that?” She dropped to her knees. “Look!”
David squatted next to her, his eyes inquisitive. “What is it?”
Susan dropped her hand to the soft dirt near the root base flicking away small rocks and earth to expose a sliver of red. “I think it’s a tail light,” she whispered lifting one shard to the sun.
“It’s old whatever it is. This is shatter proof glass; it isn’t plastic like we have now.”
“What do you think it came from? I don’t even see any roads around here.”
“Things have changed up here. They used to cut timber, and there were probably old logging roads that have grown over now.” David smiled meeting the young woman’s gaze. “Maybe this is the clue we’ve been looking for.”
“What are we going to do with it? Is there some way to find out what it came from?”
“I really don’t know.” David opened his journal making a careful note. “I’ll check around and do some research.”
Susan picked up a stick and poked around in the dirt trying to find more pieces, collecting what they could and trying to piece them together.
“It does look like it was part of a tail light,” David nodded. “Can I keep this?” He turned offering a smile. “I have a friend who works in a garage who might be able to help.”
Reluctantly Susan nodded. The obnoxious Mr. Watkins had made his point and maybe, just maybe, they were one-step closer to solving the mystery.
Chapter 3
As iron sharpens iron,
so one person sharpens another.
Proverbs 27:17
The sun was painting the horizon with the last rays of a dying day as Susan pulled up to the big house in her blue Wrangler.
David, though chilled, had dried out nicely and was anxious to get to his mechanic friend with their new clues. He had a feeling that this shattered tail light was important, but he couldn’t explain why.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” he promised, hurrying around the side of the house to his old truck. “I know this is important.” He patted the cargo pocket of his muddy pants, waving as he hurried away.
Susan watched the man jump into his truck and roar out onto the road. He seemed so confident about the find that she couldn’t help but hope he was right. Perhaps this was the break they had both been waiting for, and it would lead to the answers no one had ever been able to provide, or it could lead to nothing.
Turning she walked into the house a brief smile gracing her pretty face. She would wait to tell Gram until they had something more to share, but she knew this was the break she needed to
