Page 41 of Death on Gallows Path

Neither did I.

“When Damon said you’re fine to Zoley,” I said. “He wasn’t trying to win her over. He was certain he already had her, so didn’t need to be nice.”

“Same way he treated his wife.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I agreed.

My thoughts skipped from that track to another one.

I have no idea how long I was silent before Clara asked, “What are you thinking, Sheila?”

“About where he was found — Gallows Path. You said it was southwest of here and Donna said Damon Swindell’s family was from that part of the county . . . What do you know about that?”

“Me? Nothing more than you do.”

“But you know the county and the people . . .”

“Not all of them,” she protested. “I could ask Gran, but she and her boyfriend are on a social media and telephone fast for the month. By the time a letter got there—” Clara’s Gran lived in Belize with her senior citizen boyfriend. “—and she replied . . . Who knows when we’d hear and she might not know anything. You know who you should ask? Urban Parhem.”

Harder done than said.

Not because the head of the county’s volunteer historical society was difficult to find. Not because he wouldn’t share what he knew.

It was the asking part that was hard.

I’d thought we were friends, yet he’d kept things from me that connected to a previous inquiry, which had handicapped us.

“In the meantime,” she continued, as if my asking Urban was settled, “let’s drive by Gallows Path.” She made it sound so much more innocent than visiting the scene of the crime would have. “We’ll come right by where the Swindells and Georgers live on the way back. Then we can pick up dinner and go back to my house and talk this over.”

I looked down at our empty plates.

With the apricot “eggs” being terrific, we’d each scored double treats.

“You don’t think we’ll still be full from these pastries?”

“No,” she said firmly.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Gallows Path turned out to be not far from Big Bone Lick State Park.

Yes, that’s the park’s real name.

Once you got past childish chuckling at the name — I wasn’t entirely there — you recognized the name was literally appropriate.

It was known officially since the 1700s for finds of bones from large mammals, including American mastodons, extinct North American horses, and other prehistoric animals.

The lick — a naturally occurring salt deposit by springs — drew the animals and marshy waters trapped them.

Taken together, a lick where big bones were found.

Meriwether Lewis visited the site in 1803 before teaming up with William Clark for their famous expedition. Clark returned in 1807 for a dig financed by President Thomas Jefferson. French scientist Georges Cuvier studied bones from Big Bone Lick (and elsewhere) in establishing the existence of mastodons.

Now, you can camp, hike, play miniature golf or tennis there, along with checking out the flora and fauna.

There are other licks in the area of the Ohio River as it zigzags south, separating Indiana and Kentucky. Some licks were part of smaller, less historic parks.

Gallows Path was, as Ruby told us, a back entry to one such park.