Chapter 10

As soon as they finished introductions, Guzman said, "I'm glad you stopped by."

Savannah arched an eyebrow. "Why is that, Tony?"

"Because the so-called Willard Treasure has bothered me for years. It contains thousands of priceless artifacts—the looted heritage of an entire city of my ancestors—and no one has ever even done a proper catalog of them. You could steal half of what's there and no one would ever notice. So I'm glad someone is at least investigating missing items."

"I think I've heard you mention him," Savannah said.

Guzman shook his head. "The place looked like a war zone when they left. They shipped back a literal boatload of artifacts—intricate gold work, enormous stone carvings, and frescoes torn from the walls of tombs. The flashier items went into the museum, but a lot of the ‘boring' artifacts went into boxes labeled ‘Assorted pottery from northeast building' and stuff like that. They went straight into storage, where they've stayed ever since."

"I see," Hez said. "So in your view, it all really belongs to the people of Veracruz, especially the descendants of the Aztecs."

Guzman nodded. "Exactly."

"Like you."

Guzman gave Hez a pointed stare. "What do you mean?"

Hez shrugged. "Well, if it belongs to you, then you'd be entirely within your rights to take a few pieces, wouldn't you?"

Savannah smiled. "Thanks, Tony. That would be great."

"Yes, thanks." Hez thought for a moment. "I don't have any further questions, at least for now."

Once they were back in the hall, Hez turned to Savannah. "I'm less positive about him, but my gut says no."

"Or a murderer."

"It doesn't sound like he's a favorite of yours." He frowned. "Wait, is this the guy Jess dated?"

"Yes. I was surprised to find him still working here. He's the department chair and is pretty full of himself."

"Come in," a deep male voice called.

They walked into an office that seemed more suited to a politician than a professor. The polished walnut bookcases and matching table were mostly decorated with awards and honorary degrees Andersen had received and pictures of him with famous people. The man himself sat behind an ornate walnut desk, smiling at them with too-perfect teeth. He was a big man, and Hez guessed that he'd probably been handsome in a rugged-Viking way about ten years ago. He still had the thick blond hair, broad shoulders, and square jaw, but he'd gotten squishy in the middle and florid in the face.

Andersen steepled his fingers. "What can I do for you?"

Hez cleared his throat. "We're investigating the removal of artifacts from the Willard Treasure warehouse."

"Just one thing: Why were you in the warehouse?"

Another hint of terror flashed across his face as Andersen stared at her phone, followed by another fast recovery. "Oh... oh yes. Thanks for reminding me. I was just looking around. As head of the department it behooves me to look in on our collections from time to time, of course. Now, I'm sorry, but you really must excuse me. If you have more questions, please contact my secretary to schedule an appointment."

"I think we have all we need," Hez said. "For now."

Back outside, Hez stared up the hill toward the cemetery. Savannah turned to stare that way too. "It's the day after tomorrow."

***

Three years.

Jess struggled to keep up in her heels. "I should have changed to my running shoes," she muttered. "Wait up, Savannah."

Jess reached her, and her expression softened. "You doing okay, Savannah? I don't know that it's healthy to come here every year. Being confronted with it first thing in the morning sets you up for a terrible day. I worry about you."

"I'd probably be in jail if he hadn't."

Her friend Nora always reminded her to remember the good times, and Savannah would try to focus on those today.

Marley woofed at the sound of his name.

Jess stirred and settled on the bench. "It's such a peaceful place up here. Do you come up often?"

"When Ella first died, I came every day, sometimes more than once. Now I come often, but it's not a compulsion." She glanced at her sister's somber face. "Remember how Ella would squeal when you came to see us? She'd run with her arms outstretched the minute she spotted your car."

Savannah sighed. "You need to forgive him, Jess. Your hatred only hurts you."

Jess didn't often talk about this, but Savannah wasn't ready to delve into that pain on an already agonizing day.

"You're defending him like Mom defended your dad."

She rocked back and forth, and her cries echoed back at her from the canopy of trees overhead. "Ella, my Ella," she sobbed.

How was Hez handling the anniversary? She prayed he wasn't falling apart like her.