Page 40 of Present Danger (Rocky Mountain Courage 1)

“I’ll refrain from further comment then.” Erin chuckled. “I mainly called to let you know that I’ll be there this weekend. Plus, I wanted to see how you’re doing with all that’s going on.”

“Do you feel reassured now?”

“That you’re doing all right? Not as much as I’d like, but I know you, Terra. You’re made from steel.”

Terra forced a laugh. “Good night, Erin. Sleep tight. I’ll be in touch soon.”

She ended the call.

“You’re made from steel.”

Like her mother. People had always said that Sheridan Connors had been made from steel. Right. Well, Superman, the “Man of Steel,” wouldn’t have been killed by an avalanche. But Terra knew people were referring to more than Sheridan’s physical capabilities.

Before Mom had left for that fatal SAR mission, she and Terra had been arguing. Terra couldn’t even remember what it was about now. But Mom had looked at her and said, “The direction your life takes can often come down to one decision, one moment in time.”

Had she had a premonition that something was about to happen? Whatever. It happened. And on the other side of that, Terra feared she didn’t have the same mettle her mother had.

But thinking about her fears wouldn’t help her investigation, so she set her cell phone on the side table and concentrated on her laptop.

Time to research. Savvier computer techs could dive deeper than Terra was able to, including finding their way around the dark web, but in her last go-around with illegal archaeological digs and trafficking, the criminals had sold items online on the “legal” Internet. Given the current climate of crackdowns on artifact trafficking, one would think those seeking to sell illegal items online would be few and far between, but the reverse was true. Most pieces found online were either fake—not an artifact at all—or had been looted.

Terra started on eBay, but experienced traffickers would know better. The first items to pop up on her screen were labeled as Mayan artifacts, supposedly “ancient and authentic” with paperwork obtained legally by the original owner declaring a provenance through an estate sale. Terra scratched her head.

Could be true.

Probably wasn’t.

The laws were decidedly complex, and the potential to sell illegal items online was dangerous but infinite. Terra had been told there had been an increase in this kind of activity on the web, with as many as, if not more than, a hundred thousand antiquities being sold online.

Snatching up her cell from the side table, she stared at her contacts. Besides Jeremy Brand, she had other connections. She could pay a visit to Joey DeMarco, who was still serving time in prison in Colorado. She doubted he would be willing to talk to her, much less give her additional information or names—but the guy was in deep. He’d been willing to negotiate, give up more names in return for a lighter sentence, even though the sentence was light to begin with. That was the downside of trafficking—the money was often worth the risk and a few months or years in jail.

But Terra had a plan. She’d befriended Joey’s mother, who was heartbroken to learn what Joey had been doing right under her nose in her own home. The woman had been suffering with a debilitating disease, and Joey had cared for her. Mrs. DeMarco would want her son to cooperate.

She had thought her son was a simple collector of modern art. He attended antique shows and made his connections that way.

That was just it—Jim wasn’t only a collector or he would have displayed items in his home. But she had seen no art in his home. Instead, he had wanted to keep this part of his life a secret.

And that secret had killed him.

Who were you working with, Jim?

The credits for the movie she hadn’t watched scrolled across the TV. A couple of hours of searching online auction houses and the like hadn’t led her to the Native American headdress she’d seen at the cabin. She was going about this all wrong—but she had to try. Terra’s eyelids finally grew heavy, and she closed her laptop.

She stood, ignoring the sensation of being watched. It had to be because of the eyes belonging to her great-greats in that old photograph. Time to turn off the lights and TV and go to bed.

Terra reached for the remote. Before she touched it, the television screen turned black. Lights flickered off, shrouding her in darkness.