Ten

W yatt flicked the light, standing inside the doorway of his office. He'd worked hard to achieve his success. Yet, he felt his career at Alan Corp slipping through his fingers. Devlin had grown listless, lost in a sea of uselessness without Greta, his anchor. Wyatt's mind twisted in circles. His constant concern for Anna's safety, Devlin's interference, and Greta's long interest in Anna's family, according to the file. His next move—Should he call it quits? Move on? Start over? Refocus? Or should he roll up his sleeves, dig in, do what he knew best, and stop this—whatever it was—before things got out of hand?

His phone intruded. "Mr. Stone, Mr. Landinger is calling you."

"Okay, put him through."

"Hi, Mr. Stone." Rowan's voice came on. "Anna's gone."

"Gone?" What did that mean? Where would she go?

"Sorry. I meant to say she's in Idaho. Sandy, her friend, told me. She came to work today all teary-eyed, saying she received some kind of call or text that Anna was going out of town. She didn't say why. But Anna's gone. Now that I think of it, Sandy said some type of family issue came up. So she's not here anymore. Does that wrap up my job here?"

"I'm not sure." How could Wyatt be? He'd never fully understood what Rowan was doing there. Sent by Greta to watch over Anna. Why? It still creeped him out a bit. Something about her being Atticus's sole heir probably—maybe. Who knows? Lately, though, Anna had needed someone looking out for her. Again, why ? Too bad he couldn't ask Greta. Find out what was going on or how long it was supposed to keep going on.

Okay, focus.

Rubbing his palm against his slacks, Wyatt calmed. "I hadn't heard anything about her coming here. Hang there for a while longer and let me see if I can sort through things from this angle."

"Okay, but I'm ready to head back if this is over. Summer is almost here, and it's about to sizzle. I'd rather be in Idaho when the mercury rises, if you know what I mean."

"I'll let you know. Thanks for being there."

Wyatt rolled up his sleeves.

"Mr. Stone?"

"Uh, just hang tight. I'll be in touch. Thanks for the update."

Phone still in his hand, he crossed to the window, focusing on the eagle nest. Anna was in Idaho. To visit whom? The only family she had was Atticus.

Adrenaline pulsed through him like caffeine dripping from an IV into his veins. Anastasia Stanten was back in Idaho, but where?

Anna turned into the First Bank & Trust parking lot. The horn honked as she pressed the remote and made her way inside. With her heart beating so hard, she should be able to look down and see it thumping in the air.

"May I help you?" asked a petite woman behind the massive marble counter.

"I'd like to rent a safety deposit box."

"Certainly. Can I see some identification? I'll also need you to fill out a signature card and a few forms."

The paperwork completed, the teller looked over the documents, slid her chair back, and motioned for Anna to follow her through the glass doors. The teller slung the vault door open, gears turning like an expensive clock. Anna cringed at the screeching sound as she pulled the metal box out of its resting place.

"Please follow me." The teller crossed the hall to a private room. "Just press the button on the wall when you're done, and I'll be back to help you lock up." She shut the door and left Anna in the windowless cubicle.

Anna placed the envelope inside the metal container and lifted her mother's dark walnut box out of her purse. She rubbed her finger across the word Lila carved beside a butterfly and heart, replicating the tender movement of her mother's fingers each time she held it in her hands. Anna closed her eyes, straining to hear her mother's voice, feel her presence one more time. No magic, no special moment as she held the cherished box and the items it protected. The smell of cedar escaped when she opened the box, revealing old photographs and trinkets—the sum of one's life. She placed the mini time capsule inside, closed the container, and slid it back into its original resting place.

Treasures secured, she grabbed her sunglasses from the car console and sped off closer to answers in Boise.

Car after car joined her at each ramp.

Anna twisted her grip on the steering wheel, seeing her mother sitting there in her mind's eye, telling tall tales to fascinate the bored young Anna beside her during their long trip back to Idaho—the snow-covered mountains and their many secrets, hidden train tracks, mysterious caves, forest fires, and buried gold. Villains with odd names like the Great Bisaan and the Magnificent Magsman.

Anna smiled now in reminiscence. Those cunning manipulative villains grew more aggressive as her mother's creativity began to flow. When the story became too intense and Anna seemed anxious, her mother would lighten it with nonsensical humor.

"A teensy wonder hiding behind a rock on the north side of the tallest mountain frightened them all away. Anyone entering the magical place must use a secret iron gateway," her mother would tease as they rode along.

"Oh, Mother, I miss you," Anna whispered. "I wish you were taking this trip with me."

What did the woman mean about Mother being wronged? Could Anna somehow make it right for her?

More than anything, she wanted to believe she could.

The early shuttle was almost full when Anna moved up the steps. Her close neighbor smelled of coffee and sugar, making her stomach gurgle.

In the busy terminal, an old detour sign demarked an airport under perpetual construction. Her luggage got heavier and heavier with each step. By the time she reached the counter, every muscle ached, protesting her packing skills. A cramp clenched her back as she heaved the bag onto the scale and twisted the tight muscle.

The agent raised her eyebrows and slapped an orange "heavy" sticker on Anna's bag.

With just her carry-on, Anna hustled toward Gate 15. The coffee scent swirled, teasing her as she breezed through security. Ah, there was the familiar symbol ahead on the right.

Moments later, she beamed at the steam rising off her extra-large coffee, trundled her carry-on toward her gate, and claimed a vacant seat facing the windows. Beyond, the ground crew, wearing yellow fluorescent vests, moved around like ants as they carted luggage or waved orange wands in the air.

Coffee finished, mouth warmed, she shut her eyes. When someone bumped her right arm, she placed her left hand on her upper right arm. The man now sitting next to her didn't apologize. She snugged her arm against her chair and pulled her bag closer. Still agitated, she glanced his way once more. Now, why did he look familiar?

"We invite all ticketed and confirmed passengers going to Boise to begin boarding through gate fifteen," the agent announced.

As a fast-moving crowd formed a pop-up line, she fidgeted in her uncomfortable chair. The man sitting next to her was waiting too. A whiff of stale coffee found her. She picked up the empty coffee cup that fell under her seat. Oh. That's right. He'd been in the corner of the coffee shop. The stain on his tan shirt must be coffee.

"This is the second call for passengers to Boise boarding through gate fifteen." The agent used a stronger tone. The crowd had thinned.

Anna gathered her things and headed toward the gate. Movement flashed near her chair, but she continued.

Then a woman's scream shrilled.

"Help!" A new cry came from the other side of the room. The woman pointed toward something.

Anna pivoted to the man from the coffee shop, now slumped over her vacant chair, his entire shirt brown-red. The seat she left was wet, and dark red dripped onto the carpet. "Blood?"

Something rose in her throat, and her skin turned cold and clammy as she inspected her clothes. Good, nothing resembled blood. The thought chilled her further. Had he been shot? What was going on—incident after incident. Who was the target?