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rest through the appropriate channels, but they also still needed to learn the names of the intended buyers.

As soon as she closed her email, her cell buzzed. She glanced at the number. The museum? “Special Agent Connors speaking.”

“Agent Connors, this is Valerie Harris. You left a message on our answering machine that you had stopped by yesterday and asked for anyone with information to contact you. I’m the one who checks the messages. I think I’m finally ready to talk. I’ll be at the museum this afternoon.”

“I’m on my way.”

Terra pulled on a jacket and grabbed her bag.

Half an hour later, she parked on the street in front of the museum. When she entered, she flashed her credentials to a silver-haired woman behind a counter. “I’m here to speak with Valerie Harris.”

A twentysomething woman approached.

“I’m Valerie.” She glanced nervously at the woman behind the counter. “Maggie, I’m going to take a few minutes, okay?”

Maggie nodded. “Sure, dear. I’ll cover for you.”

“Is there a private room where we could chat?” Terra asked.

Valerie found them a room in the back of the museum.

“Are you a volunteer, or do you get paid?” Terra asked.

“I’m interning and get college credit. I admit that’s why I took some time to think about calling the police. Then you left that message, and I knew I should contact you.”

Terra was eager to hear what the young woman had to share. “I’m glad you decided to make that call. I’m here to listen.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I had a lot going on that day.”

“What day are we talking about?” Terra asked.

“The day the police came to take the knife—the murder weapon. I found that knife the day before. It was in the alley behind the museum. Seeing it there freaked me out. I thought that somehow someone had gotten into those artifacts—they’re my responsibility—without me knowing and then dropped it in the alley. Maybe they had wanted to return it but were embarrassed so they left it there. Whatever the reason, I thought that I’d messed up, so I put the knife in with the other similar knives and said nothing.”

Terra had suspected that the murderer had taken it from the museum and returned it in order to hide it or to mislead them.

“Why didn’t you come forward before now?”

She shrugged. “No one asked me about the knife. The police had it, and I figured it didn’t make any difference and—”

“You were scared.” Terra patted her hand. “I believe you. But do you have any idea who could have taken the knife and then dropped it in the alley?”

She frowned. “No. All I know is that night I heard the back door shut as I was entering the room. The thing is, I put the knife in with the others. I panicked. But I’ve been thinking about the mistake I made, and it’s important.”

Terra shifted, trying to hide her impatience.

“I’m trying to tell you that the knife didn’t belong here to begin with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I catalogue each item. When I had the chance, I went back through the data and that knife is an artifact, yes, but it isn’t ours.”

Terra hid her surprise. “We need to find out who dropped the knife in the alley. It could be someone who never even came into the museum. But the proximity makes me wonder . . .”

“We had a couple of tour groups that day.”

Maybe someone wanted to mislead the investigation, like she suspected. Make them look closely at the museum. Or dropping the knife could have been a mistake. Criminals inadvertently leaving evidence behind was how law enforcement found them. Terra pulled up a picture on her cell of Leif Morrisey at Owen’s and showed it to Valerie. “Have you seen this man before?”

Valerie’s eyes widened. “Yes. In fact, I answered some of his questions on the Native American displays. He asked if we had other artifacts—from the Middle East—but we don’t have those.”

Terra’s cell rang, and she let it go to voice mail.

Could the knife have come from Jim’s collection at the cabin? She could imagine Leif following Jim to the cabin or meeting him there and killing Jim. Leif must have intended to slip the knife into the collection at the museum but dropped it.

“We’ll look at the security videos again.” They had been focusing on the volunteers and employees.

An elderly man with white wisps of hair and spectacles cleared his throat. Terra hadn’t realized he’d entered the room. “The sheriff’s offices . . . well, Detective Tanner has a copy of the security footage. Oh, excuse me, I’m Dr. Bellinger. Curator and manager.” He thrust out his hand.

“USFS Special Agent Terra Connors.” Terra smiled. “Okay, then, I’ll check with the detective. I appreciate the information. Please contact me if you think of something else that could help.”

Terra exited through the back door and found herself in the alley. Sure enough, the back of Bar Wars was conveniently located across from the museum. Star Wars collectors, clandestine meetings between possible artifact traffickers? The murder weapon dropped in the alley between the two?

What had Leif been up to? Planting a murder weapon? Searching for the package? Looking for a connection between the bar’s collectors and the museum and the artifact? Whatever the reason, his search had killed him.

And too many others.

Her cell buzzed. She glanced down and read the text from Jeremy. He’d learned something more and wanted her to call when she was free. She listened to the voice mail that had come in earlier. Marcus Briggs wanted to meet with her to talk strategy? He must be as good as Gramps made him out to be. He could want to get a better read on her support of her grandfather so he could know what he could count on, or what he was up against.

Terra rubbed her scalp as she headed to her vehicle. She was much too popular today. She still felt shaken from last night’s experience. Early in the conversation with Valerie, a distant drum

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