by Rachel Grant
The name Clifford Nielsen snagged Maddie’s eye. She’d been looking for it after spotting it on the back of the burial card a week ago. This had to be the steel magnate. Nielsen Steel had been a major employer in Portland in the first half of the twentieth century, and the company had only grown and expanded since then, with revenues in the billions. Clifford Nielsen’s great-grandson, known locally as C-IV—which had to be a play on the explosive C-4—was CEO now and one of the city’s wealthiest residents. Given that he was in his midforties, handsome, and recently divorced, local news treated his private life like tabloid fodder.
It made sense that Otto Kocher would know Clifford Nielsen Sr.—C-I—given that they were both second-generation wealthy men of industry in the region in the thirties, their fathers having founded the family business before either man was born. She’d suspected, after reading the card last week, that Nielsen had gone on digs with the Kochers.
Maddie flipped through Sally’s notes, looking for more concrete details. She found a reference to Nielsen admiring a mortar and pestle as it was removed from the ground. Proof Nielsen had been with them in the Painted Hills.
More important to Maddie, however, was the question: would there be references to fieldwork with the Kochers in Clifford Nielsen Sr.’s papers? A few years ago, she’d researched Nielsen Steel while preparing a history of Oregon industries for the Oregon Heritage Commission. The company had an excellent archive in their posh corporate office, a Nielsen Steel-owned high-rise in Portland’s Pearl District.
She’d finish going through Sally’s notes this weekend in prep for a trip to Nielsen Steel’s archives next week. If Clifford I had looted with the Kochers, perhaps the gaps in the records—where the Kocher family had likely burned their notes—could be filled in thanks to correspondence with the Nielsens.
She felt energized with this find. Outside corroboration of where the bones were stolen from would add to the preponderance of evidence.
“Whatcha looking at?” Troy asked.
Crap. He must’ve noticed from her body language that she’d found something. “Nothing. Just skimming your great-grandmother’s notes.” She wasn’t required to tell him anything about her work or process, and he knew it. But still he pushed at every turn.
Her cell phone pinged, and she pulled it out to see the message. She smiled.
Josh: #1 boyfriend check-in. How’s it going today?
Maddie: Counting the minutes until I’m done at the house. Current # = 292. Hmm. Just realized #2 boyfriend hasn’t checked in in days.
Josh: I didn’t want to mention it, but he took one look at me and surrendered. There will be no other boyfriends.
She laughed at that. It was all ridiculous and silly. Their texts had to keep up the charade just in case Troy grabbed her phone, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like reading the possessive words. Not because she liked possessiveness, but because they came from Josh, and he…was so damn appealing.
It was nice to feel wanted, and she knew it wasn’t all pretend.
Maddie: Are you going to be able to stop by today?
Josh: Yes, but only for an hour, then I need to head back to the city. I’ve got a meeting with a potential client.
So there was no chance for a not-date tonight. She felt a trickle of disappointment, but she’d deal. They needed to keep their distance anyway. Josh had to prioritize Ava and Owen and his work. There was no room for Maddie in his life except as a volunteer protection side job, and she was grateful he was making the time for that.
Maddie: Glad you got a meeting. Hope it goes well.
Josh: I’ll be there in an hour or so. Want me to bring lunch?
She considered the protein bars she’d grabbed for lunch today because she forgot to go to the grocery store last night.
Maddie: I’d kill for a Cubano from Bunk, if it’s not out of your way.
Josh: No need to kill. I’m on it.
Maddie: You make a great #1 boyfriend.
Josh: Wait until you see what else I’m good at.
She laughed. Oh, if only she would have the chance to find out. But his surprising good-night kiss a week ago changed nothing. Their flirting changed nothing. They were keeping their distance to limit temptation. Today’s visit to the house would serve the purpose of reminding Troy that Josh had her back, but also being here, it would prevent them from sharing a hot kiss against a wall that went too far.
She set her phone on the table—why go to all the trouble of staying in character and not give the creep a chance to see?—and returned to her job of copying Otto’s and Sally’s field notes.
If she wanted to let go of her Josh fantasies, she should consider starting to date again. Her friends were always trying to fix her up. Just yesterday, Jasmine had messaged her about a guy who was a paramedic in Troutdale, and Andrea asked if she could invite a woman who worked in the Portland Planning Department to tomorrow’s wine tasting because she was sure Maddie would like her.
But one thing about the boyfriend ruse—it wouldn’t work if Maddie was seeing other people, and…she didn’t want to see other people.
But she would find it impossible to get over this crush if all she did was pine for Josh Warner. She grabbed her phone again and told Andrea to extend the invite. It wouldn’t hurt to meet someone new.
Maddie wore makeup today, and her hair was pulled back with a clip—Josh suspected to keep it out of her eyes while she bent over the old journals that were stacked on the desk beside her. Her hair was glossy and curlier than the last time he’d seen her, and he wanted to thread his fingers through it as he plundered her mouth.
His ego couldn’t help but wonder if the makeup and hairstyle were for him, because she knew he’d planned to stop by the Kocher Mansion today. He might have taken extra care with his appearance this morning too, come to think of it. After all, it had been a week since they’d seen each other.
She rose from the desk and approached him. Taking advantage of Troy Kocher’s unrelenting presence, he dropped a light kiss on her lips and took in her scent. He forced himself to pull back and held up the bag of sandwiches. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Her eyes lit and she took a deep breath, a dreamy expression on her face that was damn hot. “Oh my God. Those smell so good. You’re the best.”
“Where shall we eat?”
“I have a blanket in my car. We can picnic on the flat above the river.”
That would take them far away from Troy, a plan he approved of so they could talk, and it was a beautiful summer day. They needed to enjoy it while they could.
“Perfect.”
Maddie led the way, and minutes later, they were seated on the blanket in the sun. The river rushed below, and flowers bloomed on the opposite bank. “This really is a sweet piece of property,” Josh said before taking a bite of his Italian sandwich.
“It’s a shame it’s tainted.” Maddie nodded toward the house. “I mean, the mansion is utterly gorgeous and a perfect example of the architectural style. And it makes my skin crawl. And I work in historic preservation.”
“If ever a gothic mansion should be haunted, it’s that one.”
He studied Maddie, sitting there in the sunlight, and felt the warmth settle into his belly. Warmth from the summer heat, warmth from being near her. They’d chatted on the phone at length every night since they met over a week ago, and that filled an ache, but it was nothing like sitting beside her on a blanket in the sunshine.
“What will you do next week, when you finish at the house?”
“Monday, I’m heading to the State Historic Preservation Office to look up site data. I think on Thursday I’ll visit John Day Fossil Beds—several of the burials are from the Painted Hills. Oh, and this morning I found another reference to Clifford Nielsen the first—it appears he went on digs with the Kochers—so I’m planning to visit Nielsen Steel’s archives. If I remember correctly, the archive is open without an appointment on Tuesdays.”
“I met C-IV last week—th
e day you and I met, actually.”
“Wow. You move in impressive company, and you didn’t even brag about it.”
He shrugged. “It was a business meeting. He only agreed to meet with me because he was hoping to pocket a senator, but Rav doesn’t play that way, so it was something of a bust. The guy has some tricky security issues, though. If I’d landed that contract, I’d immediately need a team of six to eight operatives, which would exceed my goals for the first year.”
“How would you hire that many people so quickly?”
“I’d probably bring down three from Alaska, and grab one or two more from other offices, and hire the rest locally. Over time, all the transplants would be replaced with locals so our seasoned employees could return to their preferred posts. But for a contract like that, we’d need to start with our best and brightest and fold in new hires as they prove they can handle the job.”
“Well, I hear Troy Kocher is entering the private security business,” she said dryly.
Josh spewed the water he’d just sipped, then laughed. “I think I’m gonna pass on that one.”
“But he has his own Taser. Think of the money Raptor will save.” She flicked her gaze back to the house.
Josh looked over his shoulder and saw Kocher sitting on the wraparound porch, watching them. That dude was creepy as hell. Like Stephen King-movie kind of creepy.
Thank God, Maddie would be done here after today.
“You said you’ll go to Nielsen on Tuesday? Let me know if that works out. I’ve got a meeting in the Pearl District and could meet you for drinks at the end of the day.”
“Works for me.”
Okay, so maybe he didn’t have a meeting in the Pearl District, but he’d set one up if he had to. “I can meet you in the lobby around five p.m. There’s a wine bar near Nielsen Tower I’ve been wanting to try.” Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but then, there were a lot of things he should probably do or not do when it came to Maddie Foster. He’d missed her this past week, and his weekend was booked solid between Ava, Owen, and training volunteers for the next rally—which he’d just been informed was scheduled for two weeks from Sunday.
“It’s a date, then,” Maddie said. “Or, um, two friends getting together after work.”
He met her gaze and smiled, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. It absolutely was a date, even if neither of them would admit it.
7
“Madeline Foster, welcome back to the archives,” the woman behind the desk said when Maddie entered the Nielsen Steel archives, located on the twenty-first floor of the tower.
That the woman knew her name wasn’t a surprise—she’d provided her ID in the lobby to get an elevator pass, as floors ten and up were restricted—but the “welcome back” threw her off. “You remember me?”
“Absolutely. The work you did for the Oregon Heritage Commission showcasing Nielsen Steel’s role in the history of Oregon was great PR for the company. C-IV even dropped by the archives to thank me for facilitating your research. It’s not every day the CEO drops in to thank me for simply doing my job.”
Maddie laughed. “I’m glad it was beneficial for you. I enjoyed the research on that one.”
“How can I help you today? You working on another project that’ll make me look good?”
She kept her smile bright even though this research could get dicey. Over the weekend, she’d found references to the Nielsens having Nazi ties in the 1930s. The family had done a decent job of burying that part of their history, but there were old newspaper articles that couldn’t be erased. “I’m not actually researching Nielsen Steel at all.”
She explained about her project and potential for correspondence between the Kochers and Nielsens, then used the computer tablet on the counter to identify which boxes she needed pulled. Tasks complete, she settled in at a corner table in the empty archive. When the archivist delivered a dozen boxes on a rolling cart, Maddie dove in.
Ninety minutes later, she hit pay dirt in the form of letters from Sally Kocher to Clifford I and his wife, Gladys. With six boxes yet to be explored, Maddie used her phone to photograph the letters without reading. She wasn’t permitted to scan the documents with her own equipment, but would submit a request for the archivist to scan them for her. The fragility of the papers had to be taken into account. Photos would work if these were deemed too delicate for scanning.
An hour after that, she had gone through all of C-I’s personal papers. He died in 1946, and C-II took over the company for the next four decades. C-III’s run went from 1985-2012, and now they were in the era of C-IV. The archives contained papers through 2000, as recent documents were housed in an active work repository on another floor of this building. There was no reason for Maddie to believe she’d need access to any of those papers, but she would be back to look at the records from C-II’s era, as Otto Kocher had survived into the 1970s and it was possible correspondence between families had continued through the generations.
For now, she had what she needed, plus, it was nearly five o’clock and she had a date.
Well, sort of.
It felt like a date. So much so that she’d turned off her inner flirt at Saturday’s wine tasting, even though she’d been attracted to the woman Andrea had invited to meet her. Flirting would’ve felt dishonest.
She packed up her notes and glanced at her phone. She had five minutes to get to the lobby to meet Josh so they could sit in a dark, romantic bar and flirt shamelessly.
At the archivist’s desk, she thanked the woman for her help and submitted her request for high-resolution scans of the letters from the Kocher family, and notes and journal entries by Gladys Nielsen.
“I’m sorry, but before I can provide you with the PDFs, I was told we’d need more information on why you’re researching Clifford Nielsen the first.” The woman’s face flushed red. “Sorry. I just received a request from one of our executives.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and added, “He said the request came directly from C-IV. He’s…protective of his family’s legacy.”
Maddie knew it had been too easy. “I can forward you my scope of work, and you can let your boss—or Mr. Nielsen—know I’m more concerned with the Kochers’ work and travels. I found letters today that show C-I and his wife, Gladys, corresponded regularly, and C-I joined them on a few of their digs in eastern Oregon. The research I did today will go a long way to making sure we have a satisfactory outcome with the tribes, and they will be so pleased with Nielsen Steel’s aid in my research.”
“Yes. Well, Nielsen is always pleased to be able to assist the tribes.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry, but I probably shouldn’t have let you photograph the family papers without permission. I’ve…never received this kind of notice before—not with a professional researcher working on a government contract, anyway.”
Maddie didn’t want to get this woman fired, but she also wouldn’t delete the photos. Not until she knew they’d been backed up to the cloud, at least. “If Mr. Nielsen is concerned about his great-grandparents being associated with looting, he should know even the Kocher family isn’t in any sort of legal trouble for looting, and they robbed hundreds of graves. I will keep Nielsen Steel out of the public report. This will have burial location information so it’s all protected data and not subject to the Freedom of Information Act.”
The woman smiled. “That’s a relief. Thank you. I’m sorry I had to say any of this.”
“I understand. It’s a sensitive issue.”
She left the archive and checked her phone as she waited for the elevator. The doors opened, and she glanced up to see a lone man in a suit. She stepped inside and returned her gaze to her screen, smiling as she read Trina’s texts.
Twenty floors later, she stepped out into the ornate lobby with a forest of plants, a quarry of marble, and an ocean of fountains. A dozen people stood in a swarm in front of the elevator, eager eyes on the lift’s other occupant. She frowned and glanced over, then realized h
e was none other than the mega-rich CEO of Nielsen Steel, Clifford Nielsen the fourth.
He cast her a faint smile before stepping out to deal with the swarm, probably missing the quiet of their shared elevator ride.
She wove through the crowd—how did they know he’d be on that elevator?—and made her way to the fountain where she and Josh had agreed to meet. She stared at the flowing water, which poured from delicate-looking metallic roses linked by an intricate network of thorny metal vines.
Like wine, she didn’t know much about art, but she knew what she liked, and this design landed in a sweet spot. The oxidized copper that made up the rose petals and vines was a pretty matte green that contrasted sharply with the stark white of the marble basin. The discoloration made her think of the skeleton with the red staining on the clavicles and scapulae. Odd that it wasn’t green from copper.
She shook the thought aside. She was off work now and staring at a lovely fountain. No more thoughts of Nazis and looting for the night. She focused on the roses, finding the choice of green copper to be interesting for a steel company. They could easily have chosen industrial steel artwork that would also have worked, but it would have been bland compared to this, which brought to mind the impenetrable barrier in Sleeping Beauty combined with the perfection of a rose in bloom. In places, the water dripped instead of poured, like rain or tears.
She felt hands on her hips, and a man spoke softly in her ear. “Hey, beautiful.” Lips touched her neck, and she shivered from Josh’s kiss. “C-IV is staring at you as he talks to some suits across the lobby. What’s that about?”
