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Pilgrims at Plymouth by almost two decades? And I have a front-row seat to it all."
    That thought jarred my memory and my worries of the morning. "Paul? Weren't you bothered by... what happened yesterday?"
    "What happened yesterday?"
    At first I thought she was teasing me, but then I realized Pauline would never joke like that. "The body? Down by the shore?"
    "Oh no." Pauline shook her head. "No. Dear me, Emma, from what you told me of it, I've seen much worse, and they had him all neatly covered up by the time the ambulance came, so I didn't even see that. And Augie Brooks? It's a sad thing, certainly, but anyone who knew him would have bet that he would have come to just this sort of end. Really, we were prepared for it after they found his motorboat without him in it. The man wasted every chance everyone, including God, ever gave him." She looked at me. " You are bothered, though, aren't you?"
    I shrugged. "I guess I was wondering: Why here?"
    Pauline laughed. "Well, why not here? They say if you stay in one place long enough, the entire world comes to your door, and if I'm lucky enough to have Fort Providence, then surely one drunken old fool should come as no surprise. Augie Brooks was never handy on the water; too nervous." She sighed. "He must have been on quite a bender."
    "I couldn't see everything," I said hesitantly. The deputies had said it was an accident, but it looked worse than that to me. I couldn't shake off the memory of those bruises. "But from what I could see, his face was..." I decided there was no point in finishing.
    Pauline patted my arm. "I'm sorry you had to be the one, but the way I see it, better Augie should land here than downriver, on the public beach, for some poor tourist to find. This way we can take care of our own."
    "That's what the officer said." I watched the fair-weather clouds glide over the Point and realized that I needed to get to work.
    Pauline nodded her approval. "That Dave Stannard's the best kind of man. Not too pleased with his badge and his title, like some sheriffs we've had. Sensible, fair. And his wife's a dear, one of the best cooks I've ever met."
    It was my turn to laugh as I got off the swing. "And that's got exactly what to do with his qualities as a cop?"
    "Sheriff. Nothing, only it's nice to see good people with good people every once in a while. Speaking of which, when will Brian be by for a visit?"
    "I hope in a week or two. He's pretty busy right now, something big's happening at the lab, I guess." That reminded me. "Oh, I wanted to give you the heads-up. I've got a visitor stopping by today, a sahib from the department, Dr. Tony Markham. So if you see anyone wandering around ..."
    Pauline nodded. "I'll send him your way. As if anyone would mistake what's happening down there for a polo match. I'll be down later." She reached out her hand for my mug, and I reluctantly gave it to her.
    I stood watching Meg and chewing my lip. Pauline gave me a gentle push in the small of the back.
    "Go on. No more brooding over Augie. Go find my fort."
    On the scrubby lawn below the house and toward the river was The Site. My site. Even though I had visited a thousand times as a kid, it was now mine eternally, because I had put spade to earth there. All my history in the house, and all that history waiting for me under the lawn--it made me dizzy to think about it.
    I marveled over the events that seemed, like fate, to lead me to this amazing site, but it was really the indirect cause of my acquaintance with Pauline to begin with. Grandpa Oscar had met Pauline during one of his searches for Native American sites in the area more than thirty years ago. The area was a strategic location for hunting and a center for politics and religion. When he approached Pauline about permission to survey her property, a situation that could easily have turned into a hostile encounter, their mutual interest in antiquity had sprung into lasting friendship.
    Last fall, a few years after Oscar's