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S till reeling from what she’d uncovered, Libby printed the article. The library requested a fee to mitigate the cost of the paper and ink, and thankfully, she had a spare couple of dollars in her pocket.

There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that Maxwell Tucker was her grandfather. He’d used the same initials for his new name, likely because it was easier to remember. Her stomach twisted painfully; she hated the thought of her grandpa being involved in something illegal.

The picture she’d glimpsed of him standing with two other men flashed in her mind. Had those two men been his accomplices? She picked up the article from the printer. Off to the side of the main picture featuring a truck that had been abandoned on the side of the road, there was a small, grainy photo of her grandfather. He looked so young; she imagined it had been his driver’s license photo.

As much as she’d wanted to know the truth about what had happened to her grandfather, this was more than she’d bargained for. One man dead, one arrested and the other at large. Not to mention a police officer who was killed.

How on earth had her grandfather escaped? She swallowed hard and headed outside. She was still staring down at the article when Shane pulled up in front of the library. He lowered the passenger-side window. “Get in, Libby. We should head back to the cabin.”

Dazed, she nodded and reached for the door handle. Yet as she slid inside, she realized she didn’t want to go back to the cabin. “We need to go back inside and see what we can find out about these two men who were accomplices. Harry Stern and Greg Olson.”

Shane frowned. “I think we need to turn those names over to the local police. They have the resources to find them.”

“We can’t do that, Shane. I’m afraid they’ll arrest Grandpa.” Maybe that was what her grandfather deserved, but she couldn’t bear the thought him spending time behind bars. She held his gaze, hers pleading for him to understand. “I think we should try to find them by ourselves first. Considering we have Bryce, we just need a starting point.”

Shane sighed. “And then what, tell them to hand your grandfather over? I think it’s obvious they’re looking for the money that was never recovered.”

Knowing her grandfather had taken the cash made her wince. “We don’t know what he did with the money. Maybe he turned it in? Or left it someplace?” Even as the comments tumbled from her mouth, she knew that wasn’t likely. In truth, she couldn’t help but wonder if her grandfather had already spent the money. Maybe that’s how he’s supported himself and his family all these years.

But if that was the case, then why had these guys kidnapped him? No, the more she thought about how frugally her grandfather lived, the more she believed he hadn’t spent the money. “Can Bryce find buried cash?”

“Not unless it’s buried with guns and ammo. And that also depends on how deep it was placed in the earth.”

She tried not to show her disappointment. “We can’t just give him money to sniff and tell him to search?”

“No. It doesn’t work that way.” Shane held her gaze. “Libby, we’ve looked through your grandfather’s cabin, including the cellar. Twice. I don’t think he hid the money someplace obvious like under the bed. And he likely wrapped the cash in something, then stuffed it inside a metal box to preserve it.” He shook his head. “Bryce is good, but that’s asking a lot.”

“Okay, so we need to figure out some other way to find the cash.” Then she winced. “What am I saying? I don’t care about the cash, we need to find my grandfather.”

“Why don’t we call Deputy Paul Holland?” Shane’s reasonable tone irrationally made her mad. “He can find them quickly.”

“No.” She stared down at the article in her hand for another long moment, then pushed open her car door and jumped out. “I’m going to spend some time searching on the computer. You can do whatever you like.” Without waiting for him to answer, she slammed the car door and hurried back inside the library.

The computer she’d been using earlier was still free, so she quickly dropped into the chair. She double-checked the article and verified that Greg Olson was the man who’d died. Harry Stern was the one who’d gone to jail.

She started with Harry first, wondering if the man had recently gotten out of prison. Maybe Harry had spent his time behind bars, stewing over the way Maxwell a.k.a. Marvin had gotten away with the cash. Easy to imagine the guy making it his sole mission to come after her grandfather for his share. She went back to the original search to look for follow-up articles on Harry Stern’s time in jail.

After a few minutes, she found an article mentioning that Harry Stern had been released from prison after serving fifteen years, having gotten out earlier than the original sentence of twenty years for good behavior. She wondered if the authorities had been able to prove Stern hadn’t killed the police officer. Had her grandfather? She hoped and prayed he hadn’t.

Yet it was clear Harry Stern had been out of jail for a long time. Her stomach knotted again as she realized that putting her grandfather’s DNA into the system must have given Harry the clue he’d needed to find him.

Instead of helping her grandpa find his family, she’d led his coconspirator straight to him.

Then she realized that the whole adoption story was probably a lie. A cover to make up for the bank robbery. Tears burned her eyes. How many other lies, Grandpa? she thought wearily. How many?

Libby pulled herself together with an effort. The lies, her grandfather’s past—none of that was important now. She needed to find him. And that meant learning more about Harry Stern.

Unfortunately, Harry didn’t have much of a presence online. Likely because he’d spent such a long time in jail. Which begged the question of how a man who’d lived for years behind bars had figured out how to look for her grandfather using DNA sites?

He probably had help from someone of a younger generation. Much the way she was searching for information right now. Doing the math, she considered Harry must have gone to prison at the age of twenty. Not impossible for him to have kids of his own, but she leaned toward his getting help from a niece or nephew.

When she felt someone come up behind her, she startled. Then she had to smile when she felt Bryce’s wet nose pressing against her arm.

“What can I do to help?” Shane’s voice was quiet.

Stupid tears pricked her eyes again. The fact that he’d come back in to support her was sweet, but she was already hitting brick walls. She glanced up at him over her shoulder. “Nothing much for you to do. I haven’t found much on Harry Stern; he’s the guy who was captured and sent to jail back when the robbery took place. He only served fifteen years, so he’s been out for a while now.”

Shane nodded. “You’re thinking the DNA led Harry and his cohorts to your grandfather.”

It hurt to hear him state the truth so bluntly. “Yes. I’m responsible.”

“You didn’t rob the truck,” Shane said softly.

“I know.” She stared blindly at the computer screen for a long moment. “It’s hard to believe Grandpa was involved in this.”

“I’m sure he has regrets,” Shane murmured. “He may have buried the cash specifically because it was blood money.”

He was just saying that to make her feel better, and it worked. “I hope you’re right about that. Grandpa isn’t a hard or ruthless man. I’m sure he felt terrible after the way things went down all those years ago. Especially after the officer was killed.”

“Forty-eight years is a long time to keep a secret of this magnitude,” Shane said thoughtfully.

She wanted to hug him for being so nice about the fact that the man she loved had committed a terrible crime. Forty-eight years ago, sure, but still a crime.

That thought gave her pause. What was the statute of limitations on a robbery? Probably not forty-eight years.

Then again, one man had died in the robbery along with a police officer. And there was no statute of limitations on murder.

A dull headache settled at the base of her skull, and nausea churned in her stomach. She went back to the article, searching for the answer as to who may have shot Greg Olson or the cop who’d died.

But there was nothing specific.

She dropped her head into her hands, her thoughts whirling. Maybe they did need to turn this over to Deputy Paul Holland. Finding her grandpa alive was worth the risk.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Shane gently cupped her shoulders in his big, strong hands. “Don’t stress. We’ll figure something out.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him. “You were right, Shane. We need to call Paul about this.”

He nodded and released her. “I’m sorry. I know that puts your grandfather’s past in the spotlight.”

“Yes, in a big way. But I don’t want my grandfather to die over this either.” She pushed herself to her feet, nearly tripping over Bryce who’d stretched out on the floor beside her. Maybe the dog had sensed her distress. The German shepherd was big and fierce looking, but he was a softy at heart. “Let’s go call him.”

“Why don’t we have him meet us for lunch?” Shane raked a critical gaze over her. “You should eat. We need to stay strong in case we get a lead on your grandfather’s whereabouts.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a rare smile. “You know how Bryce can be when he’s hot on the scent.”

She wasn’t sure food would stay down, but Shane was right about the need to stay strong. Bryce could move much faster through the wooded terrain than she could, so she managed a nod. “Okay. Lunch works for me.”

“Great. We’ll find a place here in Greybull. I think the Four Corners Café isn’t too far.” He stepped back, and added, “Come, Bryce.”

The dog jumped up to stand at his side. Then he lowered his front end in a long stretch, before returning to all fours and wagging his tail.

“He’s a good boy.” She smiled at the dog as they made their way out of the library. There was something about the K9 that lifted her spirits. At least a little.

She folded the article into fours and slipped it into her pocket, wishing she could tuck the truth away as easily.

Her heart felt heavy as they headed to the Sunshine Café. Yet even as she listened to Shane making the call to Paul about having new information related to her grandfather’s disappearance, she couldn’t help but pray there was a way out of this.

That somehow they’d rescue her grandpa while finding a way to avoid his having to spend the rest of his life in jail.

* * *

Tension radiated off Libby in waves. She was approaching this upcoming meeting with Paul with trepidation and resolve.

He wished he could make this easier for her. He missed her sunshine-and-roses attitude toward life.

After parking at the Sunshine Café, he released the back hatch so Bryce could jump down. The SUV was designed to start up automatically if the interior of the car got too hot, but he didn’t want to take the risk.

Besides, this meeting with Paul could take a while.

“I’m glad you’re bringing Bryce inside,” Libby said as he held the door open for her. “I like having him close by.”

“You do?” Her statement surprised him. “You’re not afraid of him anymore?”

“No.” She shrugged, and added, “Although that could change if he came charging at me with his teeth bared.”

“That won’t happen,” he assured her. “He only charges after bad guys or those he perceives to be a threat.”

“I know. I’ve seen him in action.” She glanced around the café. “There’s one booth open, let’s grab it.”

He followed her to the table. Several people looked at Bryce curiously, but when the dog curled up beneath the table, he was soon forgotten.

“I’m not sure I can eat.” Libby put a hand over her stomach, frowning at the menu on the table before her.

“Please, Libby.” He ached to hold her. “I know it’s difficult, but your grandfather needs you, needs us to find him.”

“That’s the only thing keeping me going.” She sighed and gave the menu a push. “I’ll try the chicken sandwich.”

“Sounds good.” He caught their server’s eye. A woman old enough to be his mother hurried over. Her name tag identified her as Cynthia.

“What can I get you to drink?” Cynthia asked.

“Iced tea for me.” Shane cocked a brow. “Libby?”

“Iced tea is fine, and I’ll have the chicken sandwich with fries. Thanks.” Libby’s attempt at a smile was pathetic.

“Cheeseburger and fries for me.” Shane glanced past Libby at the door. “We have someone joining us, but he won’t be here for a while.”

“That’s fine.” Cynthia didn’t appear fazed by the addition. She picked up the menus and headed over to get their iced teas.

Libby took a sip of her tea, then pulled a folded paper from her pocket. “Here, you should read this before Paul gets here.”

He gulped his tea and pulled the paper close. The article headline wasn’t a surprise; Libby had already given it to him. But as he read the article that had outlined how three men had robbed a Wellington Fox Security truck transporting over two million dollars in funds from one bank to another, he understood why she’d been hit so hard by the story.

Her grandfather had been the driver of the Wellington Fox Security truck. A job he’d held for over a year. And that meant he was most likely the one who’d come up with the robbery plan.

Especially since Marvin Tolliver was the only one who’d gotten away with the cash. Leaving one man dead along with a police officer and the third man to be picked up by the FBI a day or two later.

No wonder Libby looked as if she wanted to throw up.

“Grisly reading, huh?” She looked so dejected. “I never would have believed Grandpa was capable of such a thing.”

“Forty-eight years ago,” he gently reminded. “He was young and had probably gotten carried away by the idea of having so much money.”

“By stealing from others?” She shook her head. “No way. He’d know stealing was a sin.”

“Lots of people sin, and your grandfather may not have been a believer back then.” He was determined to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. “Besides, it’s how he’s lived since that time that matters.”

“Does it?” She grimaced. “I’d like to think so. But I have a feeling Paul is going to pull the FBI in on this.”

He knew that was true. There was one FBI agent in Wyoming, located in Cheyenne. Shane had met Special Agent Griff Flannery on previous cases. Griff was a decent guy, roughly his age. Some feds were hung up on their fancy title, but Griff was more interested in getting the job done. “Try not to worry.”

She nodded without saying anything more. Their meals arrived shortly afterward.

Libby didn’t mention saying grace, so he decided to take the initiative. “Dear Lord Jesus, we ask You to keep Marvin safe in Your care. Please continue to guide us as we seek the truth. And please bless this food we are about to eat. Amen.”

“Amen,” Libby whispered. Then she lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you, Shane.”

“Of course.” In the back of his mind, Shane knew he was treading on dangerous ground, willing to do just about anything to make Libby happy.

And oddly, the prayer had come naturally.

Maybe he had absorbed some of this sibling’s faith over the years. He added a special prayer for God to grant Libby the strength she’d need to get through this, before digging into his cheeseburger.

The food was good, although Libby only ate about half of her chicken sandwich along with a handful of fries. They were just finishing when Paul walked in.

“Are you hungry?” Shane asked as Paul slid into the booth beside him. Beneath the table, Bryce shifted and let out a heavy sigh as if he’d been hoping they were going to work soon. He reached beneath the table to smooth a hand over his K9’s fur. The dog settled down, resting his head on Shane’s feet.

“Nah, I grabbed something earlier.” The deputy swung his gaze between Shane and Libby. “What’s this about new information?”

Libby looked sick as she pushed the article toward Paul. “Read this and tell me what you think.”

Paul picked up the printout of the article and quickly scanned it. Then he frowned and read it again more slowly. Paul looked up and pinned Libby with an incredulous gaze. “Your grandfather is the infamous Maxwell Tucker?”

“Yeah.” Libby took a sip of her barely touched iced tea. “At least, that’s our theory. To be honest, it’s the only one that makes any sense.”

Paul’s wide gaze swung toward Shane. “You agree?”

“Hard not to. Someone broke into the house to search the place more than once.” He gestured to the article. “Now we know what they were looking for.”

“I need to call the FBI,” Paul said, his expression grim. “An armored truck robbery from Colorado, even one that took place so many years ago, is way outside my jurisdiction.”

“I get that, but it’s going to take Griff time to get here from Cheyenne. Even if he comes by plane, that will take several hours, maybe more. What about doing some legwork in the meantime?” Shane tapped the article. “Consider what we know so far. Harry Stern only did fifteen years of the twenty ordered by the court. It stands to reason that he’s been harboring a grudge against Maxwell Tucker a.k.a. Marvin Tolliver for a very long time.”

“Too long maybe,” Paul said thoughtfully. “Why come after him now? And how did he find Marvin in the first place? From what I can tell the guy—er, Libby’s grandfather—has been living off-grid for a long time.”

“That’s true,” Libby said softly. “That is until I decided to submit a DNA swab to find my grandpa’s birth family. He told me he was adopted, and I thought he’d like to know if he had siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins...” Her voice trailed off.

“Libby believes that entering her grandfather’s DNA into the database is how Harry Stern found him. And set out to kidnap him, searching for the fortune that Stern missed out on after being arrested.”

Paul didn’t look convinced. “I doubt it’s that easy.”

“Probably not, since Harry Stern would be roughly the same age as Marvin, sixty-nine or even seventy by now,” Shane agreed. “But look at what Libby has accomplished in her brief time searching for information. Harry Stern went to jail when he was only twenty years old, in an era where computers were not as common as they are now. But he could easily have nephews or other relatives helping him out.”

“That’s true.” Paul appeared to warm to the idea. He picked up the article again and read it for a third time. It didn’t take long for him to nod in agreement. “Okay, I think you guys are onto something.”

Before Shane could ask about their next steps, Libby’s eyes widened. “Wait, could this be the guy we saw with the trailer? What was his name? Ward something?” She narrowed her gaze, then added, “Yes, I remember, it’s Engler. Ward Engler.” She tapped the article. “Maybe Ward is a nickname because he was on a prison ward.” Her gaze darted to his. “Didn’t you say you saw his truck here in town?”

“I did.” Shane’s pulse kicked up as he remembered how the guy had bolted out of the restaurant when he and Bryce had come inside. He turned to face Paul. “After I dropped Libby off at the library, I caught a glimpse of a black truck. It was outside a diner, and I asked Bryce to search.”

“Bryce?” Paul frowned. “Why?”

“I was hoping that if your guy Ward Engler was involved with the kidnapping, and he’d spent time with the bad guy Bryce had chased, my K9 might alert on his scent.” He didn’t add that it was a long shot in this case. “He didn’t alert outside, but the license plate of the truck parked in the lot matched the one Libby and I saw yesterday. The one owned by Ward Engler.”

Paul shot him a pained look. “I hope you didn’t accuse the guy of being a criminal.”

“I didn’t get a chance,” Shane said. “When I brought Bryce inside the diner, Engler bolted out the back, leaving a half plate of food behind.”

“That’s weird,” Paul agreed.

“He must be guilty of something,” Libby said. “Otherwise, why get up and leave like that?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but he was gone before I could give chase.” He held Libby’s gaze. “And that’s when you called about finding the article.”

“Okay, hold on,” Paul protested. “A guy leaving a restaurant doesn’t equate to guilt.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not exactly the act of an innocent man either.” Shane picked up the article and quickly scanned it. “There’s no picture of Harry Stern here, but you can get one, can’t you? One from the files back then so that we can compare it to the man we know now?” When Paul hesitated, he added, “Come on, Paul. Libby’s grandfather has been missing for more than twenty-four hours. We’re on a time crunch here. There’s no reason we can’t keep working the case while waiting for Griff.”

“Okay, okay. But I need to make that call to Griff. He’ll want in on this for sure and will also have to coordinate with the feds from Colorado too. I’ll be back in a few.” Paul rose and left to head outside where he could talk without being overheard.

Shane reached across the table to take Libby’s hand. “This is the right thing to do.”

“I know.” Her expression was sad. “I just feel bad for Grandpa. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t done that stupid DNA test.”

“He’ll be okay.” Shane squeezed her hand. “Nobody can carry a secret like this with them forever, Libby. For all you know, it’s been eating at him for a long time now. Trust God. We just need to have faith that everything will work out okay in the end.”

She managed a weak smile. “You’re being awfully optimistic for a man who expects the worst.”

“This is the new me,” he teased. “I’ve turned over a new leaf. This is the cheerful, optimistic Shane.”

Her husky laugh sent a warmth rushing through him, and it was all he could do not to jump across the booth to pull her into his arms.

Oh yeah, this was dangerous ground all right. Steps toward something he’d avoided for years.

And if he were honest, he had no interest in looking for a way out. Quite the opposite.

When this was over, he didn’t want to let Libby go.