Chapter 1

Her husband, Hezekiah Webster, looked out of place and uncomfortable standing in the garden by the marble angel fountain. He had to be hot in that black suit, and sure enough, he tugged at the buttoned-up collar and red tie at his neck. His dark hair had been freshly trimmed, and his expression seemed pinned in place. She'd always thought him the handsomest man in the room, and he still was with his lean build and strong jawline. His deep voice was as attractive as his striking face with its dark brows and ready smile.

"Hez," she said in an even tone. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Thanks for seeing me, Savannah."

He didn't flinch, but then, an experienced DA like Hez never showed his emotions. "Would you have agreed to see me?"

"Probably not."

"I didn't think so, and this was too important." His gaze swept the room and swung to the window frames with the paint peeling. "Tupelo Grove looks a little worse for wear since the last time I was here. Is the university about to fold?"

She looked up at his coaxing voice. For years he'd had juries eating out of his hand, but she'd learned to steel herself against his persuasion. His clear gaze told her he was telling the truth, but that didn't change her gut reaction. Being around him would be too hard, especially since she'd finally made the decision to end this misery.

This time he flinched, and pain filled his eyes. "You blame me for everything, don't you?"

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Aren't you interested in how I can afford to do this?"

She brushed past him toward the cavernous hall. "I've got to go. Find another law school for your clinic."

She'd thought she was healing until she saw Hez's face again.

***

Abernathy's blond hair was perfectly styled, and his trademark Armani suit was gray today. The white shirt and yellow tie finished the look. He believed clothes made the man, and she'd never seen so much as a piece of fuzz on his jacket.

He steepled his fingers. "You wanted to talk about tenure?"

She'd expected this, but it still hurt. The treasure had been part of her family for decades. Some of her earliest memories were of wandering the warehouse and poking through crates of terra-cotta masks and jade statues with her father. The artifacts of an entire city were in those crates, and she had dreams of seeing them set up in the museum. The problem was, much of the art wasn't the shiny objects that drew in visitors, and the museum was still too small to display even a fraction of what the warehouse held. A new wing for the Willard Treasure would be wonderful, but that goal wasn't high on the list for the trustees.

She moistened her lips. "You don't make it sound hopeful. Who is on the tenure committee?"

That tenure position belonged to her. Ellison had practically promised it to her when she accepted the professorship. She couldn't leave here. Too much of her past anchored her to this place, and she couldn't leave the little grave in the family cemetery. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And now Hez had shown up. Could the day get any worse?