Chapter 3

She licked dry lips. "What is it, boy?" she whispered.

She flipped on the lights, and the glow pushed back the shadows. Her neat bedroom looked exactly the same. The small desk area where she worked was the only spot of disarray with its stacks of homework folders. Was the picture of her and Hez with Ella out of place?

"Come," she told Marley. With the dog beside her, Savannah explored the house.

Working steadily, she was down to the final folder in an hour.

The substance of the letter caught her attention. It was a letter of provenance for some pre-Columbian artifacts. The letter didn't interest Savannah until she realized the provenance was listed as proof of sale for the listed statues. As far as she knew, the university wasn't planning to sell any of their pieces. The value of the artifacts was enormous in so many ways, and she almost felt they were part of her personal history.

Hez could help me.

"Beckett." She answered her own question with a relieved sigh. As provost, Beckett Harrison was in charge of Tupelo Grove's bureaucracy, so hopefully he would know if these were legitimate sales. And if they weren't, he'd be able to put a stop to them.

She grabbed her phone from its charger and called Beckett.

He answered on the first ring. "Morning, Savannah. You're up early. Something wrong?"

"I'm not really sure. I found some strange documents mixed in with a stack of essays."

"What kind of documents?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "The letters specifically talk about sales."

"I see." He paused. "How did they wind up mixed in with a stack of your essays?"

He was silent for a moment. "Do you have any idea who it might be?"

"I think I know who you have in mind."

"Ellison."

"I know." She bit her lip. "I'll need help from someone high up in the administration, someone who really knows the system."

***

He lay awake until after two, then finally fell asleep.

He tried to call her name, but his vocal cords made no sound. The last door loomed before him, and he reached for it with trembling fingers. It didn't budge when he yanked on it, but it released on the second try.

He stared into the abyss, then backed away. He needed to scream, but he couldn't open his mouth.

"Hezekiah Webster?"

"Yes."

The guy thrust the envelope into Hez's hands, then stepped back and snapped a picture with his phone. "You've been served."