Aftershocks (22 page)

“Not yet.” He waved at the phone clutched tight in Kell’s hand. “Route?”

“Oh. Right.” He wiped away the sweat that smeared the screen and tapped the display back on.

“Checking for traffic,” the musical voice told him. He bounced his knee, impatient, and glanced in the side mirror. He couldn’t see the truck behind them.

“Go straight…four point two miles…and then…turn right.” The name of the road to turn on appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Grant sped up even more. Kell had thought they were at top speed already, but the engine growled and the tires whirred and holy shit, if they hit a pothole they were dead.

The road curved gradually to the right, and the mountains loomed ahead of them once more.

“It will be easier to lose these guys in the foothills,” Grant told them.

“Good.” Zoe stayed in her seat, raising her voice so they could hear her over the road noise. “I don’t think we want them
this
close.”

“No.”

“Why are they coming after us?” Kell checked the distance to the turn. “Don’t they just want to keep track of you? That was pretty aggressive.”

“They might think we found the totems at Rudy’s,” Grant said.

“Or someone doesn’t want the totems found at all,” Kell countered.

Zoe made a noise but cut herself off.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He twisted back again, thinking he was going to need a chiropractor after this was all over. “If you thought of something or had an idea, tell us.”

“No, nothing like that. I just—it was stupid.”

Grant gave her a steady look in the mirror, and she relented, annoying Kell.

“What he said reminded me of that movie,
The Mummy
. You know, with Brendan Fraser?”

Kell exchanged a “whatever” look with Grant. She blew out a breath.

“Anyway, they were in a secret city, looking for an ancient book. And they were attacked, but they found out the people attacking them were protecting the book so no one would wake the mummy.”

“So?” Kell wasn’t sure where she was going with that. “It doesn’t matter what these people’s motive is. They’re not trying to reason with us. That move—”

“I know! That’s why I said it was stupid. I mean, I thought, if they know where the totems are and don’t want us to get close, maybe they’d help us. Maybe we could find some common ground. But they can’t listen to us if we’re dead.”

“Go one mile… and then…turn right,” said the GPS.

Kell faced forward and prepared to navigate for Grant. And tried not to think about the possibility that the people behind them would catch up before they got to their destination.

Chapter Ten

“Sure, I remember those!”

Zoe stared at the grizzled old man in the doorway in front of them, hardly daring to believe her ears.

“You do?” Then the word he’d used clicked, and her heart sank as low as it had just leaped. “You don’t have them anymore.”

Ozzie shook his head. “I have some other nice things you might want to look at.”

“No, thank you, it’s just these particular statues.” She fought to control her disappointment and think of what to ask next, but Kell took over for her.

“Mr. Cocalico, can you tell us a little about the statues and what you did with them? Where you found them? We’re historians.” He didn’t jump to an explanation when Ozzie skeptically eyed the dust that coated their clothing. Zoe folded her hands so she wouldn’t compulsively brush it off.

Finally, Ozzie backed up and let them in. “Sure. Can’t hurt.”

Thank goodness for old men who loved to talk. Ozzie led them into the living room of his spacious house, and Zoe gaped. Built-in shelves filled the walls on three sides. Rather than the eclectic, cluttered display in Rudy’s house, Ozzie had carefully grouped his finds and even installed special lighting on some of them. They ranged from what looked like handmade rag dolls to gleaming porcelain. There was a lot of gold, both fake and real.

“I can’t believe you find so much stuff along the railroad tracks!”

“Oh, well, it’s not just that. It’s a combination.”

Zoe followed him around the room as he pointed out his favorites and told the stories behind each acquisition. The man had a steel-trap mind, which gave her hope. She waited for an appropriate moment while the guys hovered at the foyer entrance.

“Mr. Cocalico,” she began.

“Please, call me Ozzie.” He replaced a tattered book on its stand and smiled at her.

“Thank you, Ozzie. I was just wondering if you remember who you gave those statues to. The ones we were interested in.”

“The ones made by Jacob Farmer.”

Kell jerked forward at the name. Grant had more control, but Zoe felt him tense and knew he was ready for action. Luckily Ozzie was turned away from them and didn’t notice. Zoe held them back with a flick of her hand. Ozzie couldn’t see her racing heart, but she knew her eyes gleamed. Hopefully he had cataracts.

“You know their history?” she asked. She couldn’t believe they’d actually tracked the things down. A day ago, less, she’d been certain there was no way. They didn’t have them yet, but they were a million miles closer.

He shrugged, but his own eyes glinted. “The basics. You have to know the background to charge what they’re worth.”

“So you sold them.” A guy like this would keep records. But would he tell them who the buyer was?

“Sure did.” He abandoned their tour and crossed to a small rolltop desk in the corner of the room. “A few years ago, to a collector. I do that every so often. eBay.” He hefted a large ledger-style book and grinned. “Best invention ever.”

She smiled back. Her heart slammed so hard she pressed her hand to her ribcage. “And you kept records?”

“Of course. The IRS, you know.” He slipped on a pair of reading glasses and peered at the first page of the ledger, then flipped several other pages. “William Carling is the collector.” He paused and looked over the silver frames at her. “Are you familiar with him?”

She was, but only as a name. Someone with money, a man who gave a lot of it away. She made eye contact with Kell, who nodded slightly, and with Grant, who shrugged.

“I didn’t know he lived in Utah.” She felt stupid as soon as she said it. He’d learned about the totems on eBay. He could be anywhere.

“Nah, California.” Ozzie found the entry he was looking for and scribbled something down on a piece of scrap paper. “Here you go.”

She went closer to take the paper, a little disbelieving that it was this easy. “Thank you.”

Ozzie didn’t release it right away. He’d dropped the affability. “I hope these give you what you’re looking for.”

She thanked him again, but he still didn’t let go.

“You know the legends?”

“I’m familiar with them,” she admitted after a moment. If she said no, he’d probably regale her with them all day, and she was antsy about the people in that truck catching up with them. Finding Ozzie. She didn’t want anything to happen to him or to Rudy, simply for being nice and helping them out.

“Are they the reason you’re looking for them?”

“No.” She said it swiftly and surely, and he relaxed and let her have his note.

“That’s good. Because whatever’s causing the panic you’re trying so valiantly to hide, those things aren’t the solution.”

God, she hoped he was wrong.

* * *

“What now?” Zoe asked when they were back in the SUV, heading for the hotel, with no nasty black truck in sight.

“Research,” Grant said. “We find out what we can about William Carling and determine the best way to get to him.” He glanced at Kell. “What do you know?”

Zoe leaned forward. She hadn’t thought Kell knew more than she did. His family wasn’t at Carling’s level, but they probably kept their eyes on people like him.

But Kell was shaking his head. “Just what’s public. He’s not east coast society, so my parents don’t talk about him, and my firm’s not that high-powered.”

They rode in silence until they got to the hotel. The lobby staff shot them multiple veiled glares for entering their fancy establishment looking so rough and dirty, but Zoe didn’t care. And wasn’t that interesting? A few weeks ago, she’d have checked into a cheap hotel, showered, and changed into nicer clothes before daring to come back here.

Of course, a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have needed the shower. Or the subterfuge. She couldn’t fool herself anymore. She’d changed. She could never go back to the life she’d worked so hard for. It remained to be seen if Kell could or would move forward with her. If he wasn’t considering it, why was he still here?

Right now she was too worn out to lament the changes or fret about the future. She followed the men onto the elevator and turned to lean against the back wall, her mind flicking through Google searches and magazine archives, and what kind of information she should look for regarding William Carling. Did she have time to shower first? She needed to knock off the grime and sweat before hunkering in front of a computer.

The indicator had just dinged the fourth floor when she became aware of the tension in the car. She didn’t know what had caused it, only sensed it creeping over her as it rose. She glanced at Grant and saw he was looking steadily over her head at Kell. She turned the other way and found Kell staring back. Their expressions were intense but not hostile. Both stood tall, yet casually leaning against the side rails, as if trying to convey supremacy in both power and ease at the same time.

They were posturing over her.

The ridiculousness of it burst a giggle out of her and she faced forward again quickly, though probably both of them knew she’d been looking. Then fear trickled in. She couldn’t be annoyed that they were acting like this, like either currently had a claim over her. They both had reason to think they did. If Kell wasn’t at least a little open to taking her back, he wouldn’t still be here. She knew there would be a long, long row for her to hoe to earn back his trust and try to prove worthy of his love.

But that wasn’t where the fear came from.

Because she had kissed Grant. Kissed him in a way that not only called up old passion, but told them both it was still there. They hadn’t talked about it. And when Kell showed up, she’d clarified that he was her ex. More than once.

All of which added up to one thing: She didn’t know what she wanted.

Well, not in the long run, anyway. Not beyond the next half hour. She knew exactly what she wanted right now.

She marched ahead of them when the elevator finally stopped on their floor, ignoring Grant as she passed his room, ignoring Kell when he followed her into theirs. She went straight for the phone but halted shy of it. That wasn’t fair. She had to say something to him first.

When she turned, he stood warily by the foyer, his hands in his pockets, shirt untucked, head dipped. Waiting.

“I’m going to get my own room,” she told him.

He didn’t move. “Why?”

Though the question was obvious, she hadn’t prepared an answer.

“I just…think it would be best,” she tried, knowing it was lame.

“Because…” When she didn’t elaborate, he pushed off the wall with his shoulder and wandered a few steps into the room. “Because you caught me and Neely staking claims.”

“Is that what you were doing?” If only that would generate some anger in her. Anger would make everything easier. But it wouldn’t come, probably because she had no right to it.

“Can you please be open about this?” He moved closer, and she could see his hands in his pockets were fisted. “Do I have a claim to stake? Or has Neely taken over?”

“I didn’t think you’d want one.”

“I don’t know if I do.”

Tears surged into her eyes, and she turned quickly away to hide them. It took several slow breaths before she could speak evenly. “He hasn’t taken over anything.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have to. You two have a powerful history.”

“Yes,
history
.” She sank onto the far bed and swiped at the moisture on her face. “I only came to him because I didn’t know anyone else who could help me. And I couldn’t do this alone.”

“I understand that.” He sighed and sat on the bed across from her. “I understand all of it, which makes everything a lot more difficult. Even with the parts of it that should make it simple.”

She knew he was talking about Olivia. When they’d talked last night, he’d asked plenty of questions but said very little in return.

“You’re being too tolerant.” She sniffled, and he pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand and handed it to her. “Why aren’t you raging at me?”

“These aren’t exactly normal events,” he said. “Not for you and me, anyway. Maybe this is normal for Grant.”

She managed a smile and tossed the tissue in the wastebasket. “I’m pretty sure it is. Half of his normal, anyway.”

“He wants you.”

Her head came up and her mouth opened to protest, but the words didn’t come out. Though he had every reason to see things that weren’t there, she knew damned well he wasn’t. He nodded, and she stood and moved around the bed, needing distance from his pain.