Page 31

Leona watched the narrow graveled road through the windshield. The gathering sense of dread that had been lurking at the edge of her awareness since arriving in Lost Creek was growing heavier.

“What is going on around here?” she whispered.

“Good question,” Oliver said. “But I’ve got another one.”

“What?”

“Everyone seems certain that the bridge washed out last night. We’re going to take a look.”

“Do you think people are lying about the bridge? Why would they do that?”

“Let’s just say I’m curious.”

They reached the end of the drive, but instead of turning left in the direction that would take them into town, Oliver turned right.

They drove the quarter mile to the creek and stopped. The water was running high and very swiftly. The bridge was gone.

Another chill zapped across the back of Leona’s neck.

“Looks like everyone was telling us the truth,” she said. “We really are stuck here.”

Oliver unfastened his seat belt and opened the car door. “I’m going to take a closer look.”

“At what?” she asked.

“I’ll let you know when I get back,” he said.

Sensing adventure, Roxy vaulted neatly onto his shoulder. Oliver walked down to the creek’s edge. She watched the two of them examine the scene for a couple of minutes.

“Well?” she said when they returned to the car.

Oliver rezzed the car engine. “The bridge is gone.”

“I noticed. I assume there’s a punch line here?”

“Oh, yeah.” He did a perfect three-point turn and drove back toward town. “The bridge was not swept away by the river. It was removed neatly and cleanly by someone with a very impressive set of tools. Probably a couple of someones.”

Leona folded her arms around her midsection. “Sabotage.”

“Yep.”

“This is all about that yellow pyramid crystal, isn’t it? The cult crowd thinks we have it and they really believe it’s the key to resurrecting Vance.”

“Looks like it.”

“We need to do something. We need to act. We can’t just hang around waiting for stuff to happen.”

“I agree,” Oliver said. “Tonight I’m going to pay a late-night call on the local rez-screen broadcasting station.”

“Well, I suppose that’s better than doing nothing.”

“Thanks for your encouragement and support.”

She winced. “You know what I meant.”

His mouth kicked up in the little twitch that signaled amusement. “You’re not the wait-and-see type, are you?”

“Apparently not.” She glanced at the messenger bag in the back seat. “Why did you buy the Bluestone document if you knew it was a forgery?”

“Curiosity. I’d like to know who went to the trouble and expense of producing a fraudulent edition of a document relating to an Old World research project that was scrapped back in the twentieth century.”

Leona got a ping. “How did you find out about it?”

“Another very good question. I rely on a handful of independent book and artifact scouts who work in the gray market.”

“I see,” Leona said.

“Are you going to go all judgy on me?”

“Nope. As you pointed out, every museum dabbles in the gray market from time to time. Goes with the territory. Are you saying you got the lead on the Bluestone document from one of your scouts?”

“Yes. It felt solid so I set up the appointment with Thacker. Meanwhile, I was also planning to attend the Antiquarian Society’s reception to retrieve Pandora’s box.”

Another frisson of knowing shivered across her senses. “We are assuming that someone manipulated things to make sure that I was there, but they could not have known you would be there, too.”

“No, pretty sure my presence on the scene was not part of the plan.”

She glanced at him. “Regardless, we were both supposed to end up here in Lost Creek, weren’t we?”

“Looks like it.”

“Talk about a complicated strategy.”

Oliver tapped a finger on the wheel. “There are two kinds of planners. Those like me, who prefer the simplest, least complicated approach—and then there are the jugglers.”

“Jugglers?”

“They go for elaborate, complicated scenarios because it makes them feel smarter than everyone else. In control. But in reality, they are jugglers who pride themselves on keeping a lot of spinning plates in the air. That works great right up until a plate falls off a pole. Lose one and the others become unstable.”

“I don’t like thinking of you and me as a couple of spinning plates.”

“The good news for us is that our juggler lost control back at the start,” Oliver said. “They just don’t know it yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure the juggler never anticipated that we would become allies. If anything, we should have been rivals.”

Allies . The word came as a shock. It shouldn’t have, Leona thought. She wanted to tell him that they were not just allies, they were lovers. But now she had to reckon with the possibility that last night might have been a convenient interlude for him. This morning when she had awakened, she had hoped for more.

This was what came of breaking rule number two: No sleepovers .

She squared her shoulders. “Right. Allies.”

Oliver shot her a quick, questioning look, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her cool, firm confirmation of the nature of their relationship. Then he turned his attention back to the road.

“Whoever is running this show must be here in Lost Creek by now,” he said. “Things will start moving quickly.”

“What makes you think that?”

“All of the elements of this very complicated project have been assembled in one place, and access to the outside world has been cut off. Our juggler knows they can’t keep all the plates spinning indefinitely. It’s time to bring the show to a close.”

Leona considered for a moment. “I get that a bunch of delusional cultists are convinced that I’ve got the key to the enhancement machine where Vance has been hanging out all these years. But why lure you here?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself. Maybe I’ll get an answer tonight.”

“When you take a look at the local broadcasting studio?”

“Right.”

“Roxy and I are coming with you.”

“I’ve been thinking about that and I’ve decided—”

“You need me. I’m good with locks, remember?”

“I am, too. But I was about to say that I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone at the inn, so you and Roxy are coming with me. I’m in charge tonight. Understood?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you may have control issues?”

“Often.”

“What a coincidence. I get that a lot myself. It’s annoying, isn’t it?”