Authors: Rachel Grant
“Yes.”
The single word sat alone in the air as she waited for him to offer some sort of explanation for his refusal. What Tribal Historic Preservation Officer—or rather, THPO equivalent—didn’t want to receive an obviously old and dear piece of his tribe’s cultural history?
But, true to form, the man said nothing. He merely stared at her, waiting for her to hang herself. She had a feeling he visualized handing her the rope. Which made her wonder if he knew exactly what she’d risked in bringing the mask home, and why he refused to help her.
She stood, slowly, feeling an ache in her belly and in her heart as she realized how badly she’d miscalculated. If he wouldn’t take the mask, she really had stolen it. She’d already lost her client, but now she might lose her business. She could even go to jail. But the worst part was her sister—co-owner of Aubrey Sisters Heritage Preservation—was going to kill her.
But Larkspur had been in Hawaii for the last two months and didn’t know what was going on with Sienna and their museum client. Larkspur had no idea the mask had taken over. Or that maybe Sienna had gone insane. One or the other.
But the mask being possessed by a spirit was the preferred option.
“The mask is yours. Why refuse it? I’ve never met a tribal cultural resources manager who wasn’t eager to reclaim a piece of their tribe’s cultural heritage.”
“You show up here after hours, drop an ancient mask on the desk, and expect me to sign a scribbled delivery receipt when you haven’t even shown me so much as a business card? We may be out in the Alaskan boonies, Ms. Aubrey, but that doesn’t make me ignorant. I recognize when something is off. And
you
are definitely off.”
She stiffened her spine, hating that he was right but ready to defend herself anyway. “I was supposed to arrive much earlier, but my flight from Seattle was late into Anchorage, plus they lost my bag, so I missed the ten thirty flight to Itqaklut and had to catch the four o’clock. Then I got a flat tire on the way here. It took me almost forty-five minutes to get the bolts off. I had a seat on the nine o’clock flight back to Anchorage tonight. Without the flat, I might have made it.”
The man cocked his head. “What if I hadn’t been here? Was your plan to dump the mask on the front steps and leave?”
“Heavens, no! I would never be so negligent with an artifact! I’m a curation specialist.” She sighed and sat back in her seat. “I didn’t expect you to be here, but it was worth a shot. I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go. With the Midnight Sun Festival this week, there isn’t a hotel room or bed and breakfast with a bed available—which was why I’d booked a flight back to Anchorage tonight. So it was either drive here and see if I could catch you, and maybe even catch the return flight, or sit in the airport until morning and then drive here.”
If she were less desperate, she’d never have risked getting on the flight from Anchorage in the first place. She’d known the odds of catching the return flight were slim, but the idea of spending even one more night with the demon mask was too much. She’d had to try to get rid of it.
She dug around in her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my card. I’m legit. Please, sign the release so I can get to one of the restaurants in Itqaklut before they close. I haven’t eaten since before my six a.m. flight from Seattle this morning. I’m exhausted, hungry, and I’ve got a long night ahead of me without a bed in my future.”
Vaughan stared at her, his face blank and those blue, blue eyes unreadable. Finally he said, “I won’t sign the release, but I can offer you dinner and a bed.”
Want to read more? You can find links to purchase
Midnight Sun
here
. For more information on
Midnight Sun
and my other books, please visit my website at
www.Rachel-Grant.net
.
Books by Rachel Grant
Evidence Series (all books stand alone)
Evidence Series Box Set Volume 1: Books 1-3
About the Author
Four-time Golden Heart® finalist Rachel Grant worked for over a decade as a professional archaeologist and mines her experiences for storylines and settings, which are as diverse as excavating a cemetery underneath an historic art museum in San Francisco, survey and excavation of many prehistoric Native American sites in the Pacific Northwest, researching an historic concrete house in Virginia, and mapping a seventeenth century Spanish and Dutch fort on the island of Sint Maarten in the Netherlands Antilles.
She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and children and can be found on the web at
www.Rachel-Grant.net
.
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