All these thoughts fought for her attention, while her heart still ached at the way she’d walked out on Jack. She didn’t recognize herself—how could she ever be that cold?
His words echoed constantly through her mind. “You don’t understand. Terra, wait—”
She blinked back tears and focused on the current crisis.
Owen had agreed to stay out and work with the horses, giving Terra time to speak with Gramps. Her brother probably also needed to work off the pain he felt at losing Leif and learning what his friend had done.
Staring at her own sandwich, she knew she couldn’t stomach it today.
The office door opened, signaling that Gramps was on his way. Terra’s hands shook as she poured coffee, grateful when the mug rested securely on the table next to his sandwich. She eased into the chair across from his place setting and waited.
He emerged from the hallway and took in the food and Terra.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Marcus says I have a good track record. I understand the industry in the state, and my daughter’s heroism will play well into the campaign.” Gramps eyed the table as if he had to think about whether or not to eat.
“I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite.”
He offered a tenuous smile and sat at the table. “Thanks. It’s good you’re here. I’m only just learning a few things about last night. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Well, it’s over. I’m here and I’m okay. Now, eat up. You need your strength for the campaign trail.”
He took a few bites. “Owen’s connection to Leif could be an issue, and don’t tell me different.”
“I think you could easily overcome it. Owen isn’t linked to Leif other than that he served with him.” Terra took a breath. She should dive in before she lost her nerve. “But there is some other business I need to ask you about.”
Gramps drank from his mug, his eyes boring into her from over the brim. That same displeased look he’d given her when she was a kid and he meant to scold. How ridiculous it was that she felt like a young teenager again, fearing admonishment from him. Fearing she would be the cause of his displeasure. He’d taken her father’s place, after all. She looked up to him and loved him.
He set down his mug. “Why don’t you tell me what this is about, then. I had a feeling you were buttering me up.”
“I don’t like the way you’re using Mom’s heroism to propel you into the political arena.” Those weren’t the words she’d meant to say.
He crossed his arms and eyed her. Gramps could be formidable—another reason he made a great politician. “Are you saying you haven’t used your mother’s death to propel your own career? That her job with the forest service played no role in your current job as a special agent? Or your quick transfer from the National Park Service?”
Terra couldn’t do this. She lowered her gaze.
“Terra, honey, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. If anything, you’ve used her heroism, her legacy, to drive you. You long to live up to her. And there’s no need.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “You’re trying to change the subject.”
“Maybe I am. I love you, and I don’t think this is a conversation we need to have. It only hurts.”
“Last night, a man tried to kill me. Owen’s friend Leif.”
“I know all this.”
“Leif was in your office. What did you talk about? You told me that conversation was about Owen. But I want the truth.”
Gramps didn’t speak for a few moments, then he stood and Terra feared he would walk away without answering. She had no idea what she would do if he did. But he grabbed his mug and went to the counter. Poured more coffee and stared out the kitchen window. No doubt buying himself time.
“I’m sorry that someone tried to hurt you, Terra. That’s why I didn’t want you in law enforcement.” Gramps took a sip of coffee. “I’m not involved in whatever is going on here. But I think you need to recuse yourself and stay out of it. Your life could still be in danger.”
“What was in the safe? Tell me what was stolen.”
“I’ve already told you. Now it’s time for you to stop this nonsense. I think you need some time off. This investigation is getting to you.”
Terra wouldn’t put it past him to call her supervisor and get that for her. Gramps knew the man. There wasn’t anyone in this county he didn’t know. Plenty of people were on his payroll, whether at the trucking company, the granary, or the airport.
Gramps . . .
That was it, then. He wouldn’t tell her the truth.
One thing she knew, her grandfather was hiding something.
Terra couldn’t go into the office today and face the questions or the paperwork. Instead, she should just head home to see her cat and thank her neighbor. Crash on her own sofa and get some perspective. Terra texted Jack her plans and that she wouldn’t be meeting him at the sheriff’s offices today.
An email came through on her cell—Nells, the forest service archaeologist assigned to the artifacts. Nells had identified the pieces, and as Terra suspected, they had been trafficked from the Southwest—except for the headdress. Terra and Dan would work to return the headdress to the local Crow tribes and dispatch the rest through the appropriate channels, but they also still needed to learn the names of the intended buyers.
As soon as she closed her email, her cell buzzed. She glanced at the number. The museum? “Special Agent Connors speaking.”
“Agent Connors, this is Valerie Harris. You left a message on our answering machine that you had stopped by yesterday and asked for anyone with information to contact you. I’m the one who checks the messages. I think I’m finally ready to talk. I’ll be at the museum this afternoon.”
“I’m on my way.”
Terra pulled on a jacket and grabbed her bag.
Half an hour later, she parked on the street in front of the museum. When she entered, she flashed her credentials to a silver-haired woman behind a counter. “I’m here to speak with Valerie Harris.”
A twentysomething woman approached.
“I’m Valerie.” She glanced nervously at the woman behind the counter. “Maggie, I’m going to take a few minutes, okay?”
Maggie nodded. “Sure, dear. I’ll cover for you.”
“Is there a private room where we could chat?” Terra asked.
Valerie found them a room in the back of the museum.
“Are you a volunteer, or do you get paid?” Terra asked.
“I’m interning and get college credit. I admit that’s why I took some time to think about calling the police. Then you left that message, and I knew I should contact you.”
Terra was eager to hear what the young woman had to share. “I’m glad you decided to make that call. I’m here to listen.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I had a lot going on that day.”
“What day are we talking about?” Terra asked.
“The day the police came to take the knife—the murder weapon. I found that knife the day before. It was in the alley behind the museum. Seeing it there freaked me out. I thought that somehow someone had gotten into those artifacts—they’re my responsibility—without me knowing and then dropped it in the alley. Maybe they had wanted to return it but were embarrassed so they left it there. Whatever the reason, I thought that I’d messed up, so I put the knife in with the other similar knives and said nothing.”
Terra had suspected that the murderer had taken it from the museum and returned it in order to hide it or to mislead them.
“Why didn’t you come forward before now?”
She shrugged. “No one asked me about the knife. The police had it, and I figured it didn’t make any difference and—”
“You were scared.” Terra patted her hand. “I believe you. But do you have any idea who could have taken the knife and then dropped it in the alley?”
She frowned. “No. All I know is that night I heard the back door
shut as I was entering the room. The thing is, I put the knife in with the others. I panicked. But I’ve been thinking about the mistake I made, and it’s important.”
Terra shifted, trying to hide her impatience.
“I’m trying to tell you that the knife didn’t belong here to begin with.”
“What do you mean?”
“I catalogue each item. When I had the chance, I went back through the data and that knife is an artifact, yes, but it isn’t ours.”
Terra hid her surprise. “We need to find out who dropped the knife in the alley. It could be someone who never even came into the museum. But the proximity makes me wonder . . .”
“We had a couple of tour groups that day.”
Maybe someone wanted to mislead the investigation, like she suspected. Make them look closely at the museum. Or dropping the knife could have been a mistake. Criminals inadvertently leaving evidence behind was how law enforcement found them. Terra pulled up a picture on her cell of Leif Morrisey at Owen’s and showed it to Valerie. “Have you seen this man before?”
Valerie’s eyes widened. “Yes. In fact, I answered some of his questions on the Native American displays. He asked if we had other artifacts—from the Middle East—but we don’t have those.”
Terra’s cell rang, and she let it go to voice mail.
Could the knife have come from Jim’s collection at the cabin? She could imagine Leif following Jim to the cabin or meeting him there and killing Jim. Leif must have intended to slip the knife into the collection at the museum but dropped it.
“We’ll look at the security videos again.” They had been focusing on the volunteers and employees.
An elderly man with white wisps of hair and spectacles cleared his throat. Terra hadn’t realized he’d entered the room. “The sheriff’s offices . . . well, Detective Tanner has a copy of the security footage. Oh, excuse me, I’m Dr. Bellinger. Curator and manager.” He thrust out his hand.
“USFS Special Agent Terra Connors.” Terra smiled. “Okay, then, I’ll check with the detective. I appreciate the information. Please contact me if you think of something else that could help.”
Terra exited through the back door and found herself in the alley. Sure enough, the back of Bar Wars was conveniently located across from the museum. Star Wars collectors, clandestine meetings between possible artifact traffickers? The murder weapon dropped in the alley between the two?
What had Leif been up to? Planting a murder weapon? Searching for the package? Looking for a connection between the bar’s collectors and the museum and the artifact? Whatever the reason, his search had killed him.
And too many others.
Her cell buzzed. She glanced down and read the text from Jeremy. He’d learned something more and wanted her to call when she was free. She listened to the voice mail that had come in earlier. Marcus Briggs wanted to meet with her to talk strategy? He must be as good as Gramps made him out to be. He could want to get a better read on her support of her grandfather so he could know what he could count on, or what he was up against.
Terra rubbed her scalp as she headed to her vehicle. She was much too popular today. She still felt shaken from last night’s experience. Early in the conversation with Valerie, a distant drum had started beating in Terra’s head, and now the pounding had closed in and decided to stay. She’d contact Jeremy later and instead stick to her original plan to stop by her apartment. She needed her own space. Before heading out, she called Jack but got his voice mail, so she detailed her meeting with Valerie, including that the security videos should be reviewed again. She also let him know she needed space today and would reach out to him tomorrow.
With no more news from her superior, Terra headed home. On the drive, she thought about her conversations with Owen and Gramps. It was probably best if she were removed from the case. She suspected the additional agencies—the FBI Art Crime Division in particular—could possibly take over soon. And she wouldn’t have to work with Jack anymore.
She wouldn’t have to see him again.
At her apartment, the place felt strange and empty—and also lonely without Sudoku. She texted her neighbor Allie to see if she was home. If so, Terra would be over soon to see if Su remembered her. When she didn’t receive an immediate text back, she showered and changed into jeans and a fresh T-shirt.
Adrenaline rushed out of her, and she sank onto the sofa and let the tears fall.
All the recent events charged at her.
The images, the emotions that took front and center related to Jack collapsing. All the blood. Then the tender and yet passionate kiss—years of pent-up emotions finally liberated—and Terra’s subsequent statement, declaring an end to any hope of a future for the two of them.
Who was she kidding? She still totally cared about the guy. Okay, well, she would admit to herself in this moment . . . she still loved him.
Loved?
Had she ever truly stopped?
In his letter, Jack had told her, “I love you enough to let you go.” At the time, she’d thought he’d simply chosen his career over her. He’d hurt her, but she got it now. Jack had believed she deserved better than him or what he could give her. He believed he wasn’t good enough. And look, he’d come full circle. He’d proven himself . . . well, to himself. He’d moved beyond the lack of self-worth and profound pain his father had left him with.
“You did it, Jack,” she whispered.
Then why couldn’t Terra knock down that wall in her heart to risk loving and losing again?
Mom’s words to her, mere hours before she was killed, came back to her.
“The direction your life takes can often come down to one decision, one moment in time.”
Terra had begged her to stay home that day. Mom had chosen to go. She couldn’t have known her decision would cost her life.
Considering the life decisions Terra had made so far, that one moment, that one decision that would change her life, had not happened yet as far as she could tell. Unless her walking out on Jack in his hospital room counted. It felt pivotal. It felt life-changing. It should be freeing. Instead, it was anything but. And like Mom, how could Terra know when that all-important pivotal moment was on her? Maybe one never really knew, and it wasn’t so cut-and-dried as Mom had suggested.
A knock came at the door.
She’d told Allie to text when she was home and Terra would come over. She wasn’t quite prepared to see Allie. She wiped her face on her sleeves and opened the door. Surprise and confusion filled her. “Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
She opened the door wider. The sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could be done.
“Would you like tea or coffee?”
“Coffee would be nice.”
Terra turned to head for the kitchen and a prick stung her arm. Dizziness swept through her, then darkness took her.
SIXTY
Jack stood with Nathan at the farmhouse. They believed Leif’s murder had taken place around the grain silo and away from the home.
The door opened and an older woman—maybe late seventies, even early eighties—stared back, surprised. Nathan flashed his credentials. “I’m Detective Nathan Campbell, and this is Detective Jack Tanner.”
“I already told the others everything I know, which is nothing, but come on in.” She opened the door wide, and Jack followed Nathan into a small but comfy living room with decades-old furniture. Doilies and all.
“Have a seat, detectives. Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.
“No thank you.” Nathan sat. “We won’t be here too long. Just have a few more questions.”
Jack remained standing. The plan was for Nathan to ask the questions. Jack perused the photographs on the walls. The fireplace mantel. The side table. Then he turned his attention back to the conversation.
He approached and eased into the chair nearest the woman while Nathan engaged in small talk. Jack was anxious to get down to busines
s and leaned forward.
She smiled at Jack. “Detective.”
“Just call me Jack.”
“And you can call me Ruby, please.”
“All right, Ruby.” Jack shared a look with Nathan, letting him know he would take it from here. “I was involved in the shooting last night.” Then again, might as well get right to the point.
Her eyes widened, and her gaze dropped to his arm. “You’re wearing a sling. Is that because of last night?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was almost killed, along with another law enforcement officer, who also happens to be a dear friend.” Jack didn’t miss that I-told-you-so expression on Nathan’s face. Terra would be a “dear friend” to Jack even if he had no romantic feelings for her. He cleared his throat. Focused on the topic. “When I heard that you insisted you hadn’t heard the gunshots last night, I had to hear that from you myself, Ruby.”
Ruby’s demeanor shifted to one of shame. Her shoulders sagged, and she stared at the floor. “My Will died this last spring. My son Butch comes from the next town over to check on me now and then. He manages the crops. Drives the combine. Hires help as needed. But at night, I’m alone. I still can’t get used to this old house. Every creak, every noise wakes me. I stopped watching those murder mysteries. That did help me some, but then . . .”
“It’s all right, Ruby. Take your time, dear,” Jack said.
She gave him a shy smile. “When I heard the guns go off, at first I thought it was firecrackers. I went to stand on the porch, and I realized someone had machine guns. I . . . I was scared. I did like Will always instructed me to do. I ran down into the basement. He kept a loaded shotgun for me down there. It’s our safe room. I bolted the door and grabbed the shotgun. Down there, I couldn’t hear the gunfire. I’d planned to call the police, but I’d left my cell upstairs.” Ruby glanced at Jack. “I waited for what I thought was a good long while, then I started back upstairs. But that’s when I heard someone come inside the house. I thought I would have a heart attack. I froze in the shadows down under the stairwell, holding that shotgun I never had need to use in over six decades.”
Tears slipped from Ruby’s eyes, but she straightened, sitting tall in the chair. “That’s when I heard Will’s voice in my head. To be the strong person I had always been. I stomped right up those stairs and pointed the shotgun at a man standing in the hallway. I told him to get out of my house or I’d blast a hole through him.”
Present Danger Page 27
