After a week in the crypt, it was a relief to finally be aboveground. All the remains in the basement had been documented, and now Maddie could go to town on the data that mattered most: Otto’s notes.
With the exception of the kitchen at the back of the house, the museum filled the ground floor of the mansion. The front hall, all three sitting rooms, library, living room, and dining room had all been converted decades ago to display the artifacts. A second staircase led down into the crypt, which had also been open to the public. Supposedly, all the vaults had remained closed, but that was another lie the family got away with for far too long.
Adjacent to the kitchen, next to that staircase, was a study that served as the museum office. It was in there that Otto Kocher’s notes and maps were stored and where she’d found the misplaced bag of bones last Friday.
Now Maddie was settled into the office with new appreciation for tall windows and sunlight. And cell service. Not to mention it was a lot harder for Troy to find excuses to stand too close.
She took a deep breath of the fresh air wafting in from the open window. The heat wave had ended, and it was a perfect summer day, the last of July. She’d spent at least an hour on the phone with Josh every night since she’d last seen him a week ago, and today, he would stop by the house for a midday visit just to remind Troy he was still paying attention.
Troy hadn’t hovered quite so close in the crypt this week, and Maddie suspected seeing Josh at the rally had rattled him. There had been no shortage of interviews of Josh, Arthur, and Desmond as the days passed, and with every replay of video from the rally, Josh looked like a calm-headed leader, Desmond was a hero for protecting several counterprotestors from a man with a knife, and the White Patriot who’d assaulted him was facing more assault charges by the day. The officer who’d held the gun on Desmond after being told to stand down had been suspended, and there was a call to review all his arrests, examining for racial bias.
All in all, it was a win for the good guys, and Troy Kocher was pissed—but he was keeping his distance, which was all that mattered to Maddie.
She did her best to ignore him as she fed Otto’s papers into the document feed of the full-size scanner. There were too many pages to mess around with the portable scanner she’d used in the crypt, and she hoped to finish making copies today so she could put this house in her rearview mirror.
The nightly calls from Josh had been the best part of her days. Even though she knew it couldn’t go anywhere right now, she still enjoyed the flirting. The man.
Every night as she drifted to sleep, she relived that last good-night kiss and the one on the first night by the door, which had been pure wild heat.
She focused on the papers in front of her. She didn’t need to read them now, she would spend the next weeks combing through them, but it wouldn’t hurt to redirect her thoughts and get a jump start on the next phase.
Otto’s wife, Sally Kocher, had done much of the note-taking while Otto dug. Her handwriting was distinctive and, thankfully, easy to read. Flipping through the files, which had been ordered chronologically, Maddie noticed there were big gaps in the years. Otto was extremely wealthy for his time—the family logging business was booming, and hired managers ran the business. With loads of free time and plenty of money to support his habit, he spent his summers adding to his collection. Newspaper articles were written about him as if he were a swashbuckling adventurer.
She knew the newspaper articles were a product of their time—and it wasn’t as if her own professional predecessors were much better—but it was still disturbing.
The multiyear gaps in the notes were likely because Otto had been digging on federal land and the documents were destroyed in the seventies. As she scanned what remained of their papers, Maddie skimmed the pages, looking for references to previous excavations—as sometimes the woman noted similarities between finds. She also studied the news articles looking for references to specific digs and their timeframe. NAGPRA only required a preponderance of evidence to show an item was subject to repatriation. She didn’t have to worry about “beyond a reasonable doubt” and a passing reference to a dig would add the data needed to fulfill the preponderance requirement.
The name Clifford Nielsen snagged Maddie’s eye. She’d been looking for it after spotting it on the back of the burial card a week ago. This had to be the steel magnate. Nielsen Steel had been a major employer in Portland in the first half of the twentieth century, and the company had only grown and expanded since then, with revenues in the billions. Clifford Nielsen’s great-grandson, known locally as C-IV—which had to be a play on the explosive C-4—was CEO now and one of the city’s wealthiest residents. Given that he was in his midforties, handsome, and recently divorced, local news treated his private life like tabloid fodder.
It made sense that Otto Kocher would know Clifford Nielsen Sr.—C-I—given that they were both second-generation wealthy men of industry in the region in the thirties, their fathers having founded the family business before either man was born. She’d suspected, after reading the card last week, that Nielsen had gone on digs with the Kochers.
Maddie flipped through Sally’s notes, looking for more concrete details. She found a reference to Nielsen admiring a mortar and pestle as it was removed from the ground. Proof Nielsen had been with them in the Painted Hills.
More important to Maddie, however, was the question: would there be references to fieldwork with the Kochers in Clifford Nielsen Sr.’s papers? A few years ago, she’d researched Nielsen Steel while preparing a history of Oregon industries for the Oregon Heritage Commission. The company had an excellent archive in their posh corporate office, a Nielsen Steel-owned high-rise in Portland’s Pearl District.
She’d finish going through Sally’s notes this weekend in prep for a trip to Nielsen Steel’s archives next week. If Clifford I had looted with the Kochers, perhaps the gaps in the records—where the Kocher family had likely burned their notes—could be filled in thanks to correspondence with the Nielsens.
She felt energized with this find. Outside corroboration of where the bones were stolen from would add to the preponderance of evidence.
“Whatcha looking at?” Troy asked.
Crap. He must’ve noticed from her body language that she’d found something. “Nothing. Just skimming your great-grandmother’s notes.” She wasn’t required to tell him anything about her work or process, and he knew it. But still he pushed at every turn.
Her cell phone pinged, and she pulled it out to see the message. She smiled.
Josh: #1 boyfriend check-in. How’s it going today?
Maddie: Counting the minutes until I’m done at the house. Current # = 292. Hmm. Just realized #2 boyfriend hasn’t checked in in days.
Josh: I didn’t want to mention it, but he took one look at me and surrendered. There will be no other boyfriends.
She laughed at that. It was all ridiculous and silly. Their texts had to keep up the charade just in case Troy grabbed her phone, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like reading the possessive words. Not because she liked possessiveness, but because they came from Josh, and he…was so damn appealing.
It was nice to feel wanted, and she knew it wasn’t all pretend.
Maddie: Are you going to be able to stop by today?
Josh: Yes, but only for an hour, then I need to head back to the city. I’ve got a meeting with a potential client.
So there was no chance for a not-date tonight. She felt a trickle of disappointment, but she’d deal. They needed to keep their distance anyway. Josh had to prioritize Ava and Owen and his work. There was no room for Maddie in his life except as a volunteer protection side job, and she was grateful he was making the time for that.
Maddie: Glad you got a meeting. Hope it goes well.
Josh: I’ll be there in an hour or so. Want me to bring lunch?
She considered the protein bars she’d grabbed for lunch today because she forgot to go to the grocery store last night.
Maddie: I’d kill for a Cubano from Bunk, if it’s not out of your way.
Josh: No need to kill. I’m on it.
Maddie: You make a great #1 boyfriend.
Josh: Wait until you see what else I’m good at.
She laughed. Oh, if only she would have the chance to find out. But his surprising good-night kiss a week ago changed nothing. Their flirting changed nothing. They were keeping their distance to limit temptation. Today’s visit to the house would serve the purpose of reminding Troy that Josh had her back, but also being here, it would prevent them from sharing a hot kiss against a wall that went too far.
She set her phone on the table—why go to all the trouble of staying in character and not give the creep a chance to see?—and returned to her job of copying Otto’s and Sally’s field notes.
If she wanted to let go of her Josh fantasies, she should consider starting to date again. Her friends were always trying to fix her up. Just yesterday, Jasmine had messaged her about a guy who was a paramedic in Troutdale, and Andrea asked if she could invite a woman who worked in the Portland Planning Department to tomorrow’s wine tasting because she was sure Maddie would like her.
But one thing about the boyfriend ruse—it wouldn’t work if Maddie was seeing other people, and…she didn’t want to see other people.
But she would find it impossible to get over this crush if all she did was pine for Josh Warner. She grabbed her phone again and told Andrea to extend the invite. It wouldn’t hurt to meet someone new.
Maddie wore makeup today, and her hair was pulled back with a clip—Josh suspected to keep it out of her eyes while she bent over the old journals that were stacked on the desk beside her. Her hair was glossy and curlier than the last time he’d seen her, and he wanted to thread his fingers through it as he plundered her mouth.
His ego couldn’t help but wonder if the makeup and hairstyle were for him, because she knew he’d planned to stop by the Kocher Mansion today. He might have taken extra care with his appearance this morning too, come to think of it. After all, it had been a week since they’d seen each other.
She rose from the desk and approached him. Taking advantage of Troy Kocher’s unrelenting presence, he dropped a light kiss on her lips and took in her scent. He forced himself to pull back and held up the bag of sandwiches. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Her eyes lit and she took a deep breath, a dreamy expression on her face that was damn hot. “Oh my God. Those smell so good. You’re the best.”
“Where shall we eat?”
“I have a blanket in my car. We can picnic on the flat above the river.”
That would take them far away from Troy, a plan he approved of so they could talk, and it was a beautiful summer day. They needed to enjoy it while they could.
“Perfect.”
Maddie led the way, and minutes later, they were seated on the blanket in the sun. The river rushed below, and flowers bloomed on the opposite bank. “This really is a sweet piece of property,” Josh said before taking a bite of his Italian sandwich.
“It’s a shame it’s tainted.” Maddie nodded toward the house. “I mean, the mansion is utterly gorgeous and a perfect example of the architectural style. And it makes my skin crawl. And I work in historic preservation.”
“If ever a gothic mansion should be haunted, it’s that one.”
He studied Maddie, sitting there in the sunlight, and felt the warmth settle into his belly. Warmth from the summer heat, warmth from being near her. They’d chatted on the phone at length every night since they met over a week ago, and that filled an ache, but it was nothing like sitting beside her on a blanket in the sunshine.
“What will you do next week, when you finish at the house?”
“Monday, I’m heading to the State Historic Preservation Office to look up site data. I think on Thursday I’ll visit John Day Fossil Beds—several of the burials are from the Painted Hills. Oh, and this morning I found another reference to Clifford Nielsen the first—it appears he went on digs with the Kochers—so I’m planning to visit Nielsen Steel’s archives. If I remember correctly, the archive is open without an appointment on Tuesdays.”
“I met C-IV last week—the day you and I met, actually.”
“Wow. You move in impressive company, and you didn’t even brag about it.”
He shrugged. “It was a business meeting. He only agreed to meet with me because he was hoping to pocket a senator, but Rav doesn’t play that way, so it was something of a bust. The guy has some tricky security issues, though. If I’d landed that contract, I’d immediately need a team of six to eight operatives, which would exceed my goals for the first year.”
“How would you hire that many people so quickly?”
“I’d probably bring down three from Alaska, and grab one or two more from other offices, and hire the rest locally. Over time, all the transplants would be replaced with locals so our seasoned employees could return to their preferred posts. But for a contract like that, we’d need to start with our best and brightest and fold in new hires as they prove they can handle the job.”
“Well, I hear Troy Kocher is entering the private security business,” she said dryly.
Josh spewed the water he’d just sipped, then laughed. “I think I’m gonna pass on that one.”
“But he has his own Taser. Think of the money Raptor will save.” She flicked her gaze back to the house.
Josh looked over his shoulder and saw Kocher sitting on the wraparound porch, watching them. That dude was creepy as hell. Like Stephen King-movie kind of creepy.
Thank God, Maddie would be done here after today.
“You said you’ll go to Nielsen on Tuesday? Let me know if that works out. I’ve got a meeting in the Pearl District and could meet you for drinks at the end of the day.”
“Works for me.”
Okay, so maybe he didn’t have a meeting in the Pearl District, but he’d set one up if he had to. “I can meet you in the lobby around five p.m. There’s a wine bar near Nielsen Tower I’ve been wanting to try.” Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but then, there were a lot of things he should probably do or not do when it came to Maddie Foster. He’d missed her this past week, and his weekend was booked solid between Ava, Owen, and training volunteers for the next rally—which he’d just been informed was scheduled for two weeks from Sunday.
“It’s a date, then,” Maddie said. “Or, um, two friends getting together after work.”
He met her gaze and smiled, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. It absolutely was a date, even if neither of them would admit it.