Ava slept for the first hour of the drive as they left Portland and headed east. Maddie listened to Morning Edition to keep herself entertained. The rally in Portland eleven days ago might have faded from national news, but the local affiliates were still covering the story as the city braced for another rally in ten days. Portland’s police chief was interviewed, and she spoke at length about the rising number of what were essentially planned brawls breaking out in parts of the city.
The factions involved were usually some form of white supremacist group versus another group aligned to defend against fascism, but the anarchists never wanted to be left out. When questioned as to whether or not the Raptor/Bond Ironworks-sponsored group was involved in the brawls that plagued the city, the police chief stated she’d spoken with Josh Warner, Arthur Bond, and Raptor’s CEO, Keith Hatcher, and been assured that the newly formed group’s only goal was to provide security for people who protested the increasingly active white supremacist movement in the Portland area. They would not in any way engage in brawls with the White Patriots, KKK, or other groups. Their goal was simply to show up and make it a safer place for other people to show their opposition to the racist rallies that were occurring with alarming frequency.
The Raptor-Bond Alliance, as the news was now calling it, was created on the simple hope that with safety, more would show up and demonstrate to the white supremacists in the region that they were far outnumbered.
They played portions of an interview with Josh and Keith. When asked if Raptor’s owner, Maryland Senator Alec Ravissant, supported the volunteer project, Keith stated that Ravissant was pleased with Josh’s initiative and reminded the interviewer of the counterprotest the senator had attended last October.
“Senator Ravissant,” Keith continued, “is a firm believer in free speech and understands that cities like Portland must issue permits that make the events possible, but he also believes firmly in the right to oppose hate groups like the White Patriots, and the only way to send a message is to let them know they’re outnumbered.”
“Keep in mind,” Josh said, picking up the thread of the interview, “these rallies aren’t harmless free speech exercises. They are about recruitment, more soldiers for their white army. The next step is arming and training, and then armed conflict. They want nothing less than for white people to use violence to—in their words—‘take back’ our country from Black Americans, from Native Americans, from Asians and brown people. From Jewish people like myself. They say they’re concerned about immigration and they just want to stop more brown people from coming in—reprehensible enough, but that’s their slippery slope. They want nothing less than eradication. The fundamental goals of the White Power movement haven’t changed since the founders of the movement returned from Vietnam and began organizing.
“It hasn’t changed since Oklahoma City—which McVeigh had hoped would be the signal to start the next war. Read the manifestos, listen to the scholars who’ve been studying the movement for decades. This current group is simply following the old playbook. What we’re doing is the first line of defense, to try to halt recruitment in their tracks. Let them know we see them and won’t stand idly by and politely let them use our parks and streets to recruit for their army of hate.
“Plus,” Josh continued, “there’s a darker side that goes hand in hand with these rallies, which is using the gatherings—and the brawls that the police chief mentioned—to further accelerationist goals.”
“Could you define ‘accelerationist’ for our listeners who are unfamiliar with the term?” the interviewer asked.
“Accelerationism relies on the idea that Western governments are irreparably corrupt. Some white supremacists believe the best thing they can do is accelerate their demise by sowing chaos. You’ll find accelerationist ideas cited in manifestos written by mass shooters and referenced in white supremacist chat rooms. Accelerationist literature is frequently found in the browsing history of white men who’ve committed random acts of violence. This isn’t confined to the US by any means. The shooter in New Zealand specifically cited accelerationist ideology.”
“Uncle Josh is really smart.”
Maddie startled and pressed her hand to her heart. “I didn’t realize you were awake.” She returned her hand to the steering wheel and kept her gaze on the road as she added, “And yes, your uncle is very smart. He’s been researching the White Power movement for some time.”
“I’m scared for him,” Ava whispered.
The NPR interview ended, and Maddie turned off the radio. “These are scary people.” She searched for reassuring words, but the truth was, Maddie was scared too. Doxing and the risk of swatting was nothing to wave away. “But one thing your uncle knows is how to protect himself and others. I heard a rumor he got medals for that kind of thing when he was a SEAL.”
“He doesn’t talk about being a SEAL with me.”
“I don’t think he can talk about the missions. They’re probably classified.”
“Yeah. I guess.” Maddie felt the girl’s gaze as she shifted in her seat. “What’s up with you two? Are you dating or just sleeping together?”
Maddie took a deep breath. The first question was reasonable, the second she suspected was intended to trigger a reaction. “We’re not sure where this is going but agree it was bad timing for us to meet.”
“So you’re just fucking him.”
She gripped the steering wheel and studied the white lines on the two-lane highway. This was a seventeen-year-old girl who probably knew little of sex or love or dating and who very much wanted to put Maddie in her place. “Whether your uncle and I are sleeping together or not is really none of your business. Just as your sex life is none of mine.”
“I don’t have a sex life. I’m not a slut.”
“Honey, having sex doesn’t make you a slut. Having sex with ten people doesn’t make you a slut. Because there is no such thing as a slut. Slut shaming is a construct meant to control women and their bodies. Men are not condemned for the same act. It goes both ways, or it’s not a thing. If it’s wrong for a woman to have sex, it’s wrong for a man too.”
“Men don’t get pregnant.”
“Men cause one hundred percent of pregnancies. Every single unwanted pregnancy was the result of male ejaculation. It is literally impossible to accidently get pregnant without a penis being involved.”
“Artificial insemination—”
“I said accidently. No one gets pregnant accidently through artificial insemination. And even with in vitro pregnancies, a guy ejaculated at some point.”
“My dad says women who have sex before marriage are sluts, and my mom wasn’t a slut.”
“Your mom made her own decision about her body and her relationship, and you can honor that, but your dad is flat-out wrong about the rest. Did your dad have sex before he married your mom?”
“He never said.”
“And he didn’t because he knew it invalidated his entire argument because it would make him a slut.” She sighed. “Listen, sex is not something to be taken lightly—unless you’re on good emotional ground and can handle a light relationship. You’re young, and the last few years have been horrible. This would be a terrible time for you to wade into the physical aspects of relationships. But when you’re ready, when you know who you are and can continue to be that person even after physical intimacy—because sex changes relationships, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise—then it can be wonderful, whether you’re in a committed relationship or just fooling around. But it’s your body. Your call.”
“Are you sure Uncle Josh would want you to have this conversation with me?”
“If your uncle is a slut shamer, then he’s not someone I would ever want near my vagina.”
Ava let out a squeal that sounded like a shocked laugh.
Maddie smiled but added, “I’m serious. Don’t ever let anyone touch you if they don’t respect your personhood. And anyone who would have sex with you and then call you a slut doesn’t see you as equal.”
A few miles went by in silence, then Ava said in a quiet voice, “I sometimes wonder if I’m gay. But there was a senior at my school last year, and when I was around him, I definitely didn’t feel gay. But he was such a jerk too. Like a total pig when it came to girls. So why did I like him?”
Emotion flooded Maddie. She remembered her own questions at that age, but she’d had reasonable parents and good friends to turn to for answers. Ava had lost her mother at fourteen, and her father, according to both Josh and now Ava, was seriously lacking.
“For the second part, some attractions can be purely physical. A certain look or manner can speak to something in you. It’s like having a crush on an actor or musician. You don’t actually know them, but you find them appealing. The senior last year, he did that for you, but you knew him just well enough to see below the surface and know there wasn’t anything worth having. Enjoy the crush, but for your own emotional protection, don’t let it go further than that.”
She cleared her throat. “And to speak to the first part, I’m bisexual, and it took me a long time to figure that out.”
“You are? Does that mean you’ll cheat on Uncle Josh?”
Maddie wanted to pull over for this conversation, but had a feeling that would freak Ava out and that she’d only been able to bring it up because Maddie had to focus on the road. “Just because I’m sexually attracted to both men and women doesn’t mean I don’t believe in monogamy. I’ve never cheated on anyone—male or female—I’ve dated. The idea that bisexual people can’t commit is put forth to stigmatize us and strip us of our allies.”
“Oh. I guess my question was kind of offensive.”
“A little, but you get a pass. I realize you have your own questions and your father wasn’t the most open-minded of souls.” She would assume Ava hadn’t been trying to hurt her in hopes of driving a wedge between her and Josh, especially given that so far, Ava had been straightforward on the aiming-to-hurt front.
“How did you know you were bisexual?”
“After wondering for years, I fell in love with my best friend in college, and it became clear the feelings weren’t in any way platonic.”
“So you dated your best friend?”
“No. At the same time I became certain I was bi, she became certain she wasn’t.”
“That must have been…awkward. Did you stop being friends?”
“No. We talked about it. A lot. And once I knew it couldn’t happen between us because Trina wasn’t wired the same way, I moved on. I had to. Our friendship recovered.”
“Figures it would be Trina.” Ava sighed. “Uncle Josh is in love with Trina. Has been for years.”
Maddie stiffened, her whole body going rigid as she gripped the steering wheel.
Ava flushed and, seeming to realize what she’d said, slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
“You shouldn’t share things your uncle told you in confidence, Ava.”
“He didn’t—I mean, I…” Her voice trailed off.
Was she lying in hopes of driving Maddie away, or had Ava blurted out a simple truth? She couldn’t ask. If it was true, it was violating Josh’s privacy. But if it was a lie…
She remembered Josh’s reaction to seeing her photo album of Trina. How he’d flirted with her and kissed her after looking at the album. Had he imagined he was kissing Trina? In college, friends had commented often enough that they looked like sisters.
Was Josh’s interest in her simply based on the fact that she made a decent substitute for a woman he couldn’t have? A woman Maddie had loved once too?
“A few weeks ago, when Uncle Josh was out, I found a letter he wrote but never sent to Trina.”
“You mean you were snooping.”
“Yeah. I just—my uncle I barely knew was suddenly my guardian. My dad said so much nasty stuff about Uncle Josh. I needed to know who he was.”
Those might be the only words the girl could say that exonerated her in Maddie’s mind. Plus, she remembered what it was like to be a teenager. She wasn’t proud of the snooping she’d done in her brother’s and parents’ stuff at fourteen.
“In the letter, Josh said he’d always love her—”
Maddie kept her focus straight ahead, trying not to read Ava’s body language even with her peripheral vision. “I don’t need to know what the letter said.” Much as she wanted to know, it was the right thing to say. To do.
“But I need to talk to someone, because I found out that Uncle Josh didn’t move here for me, like he claimed.” Ava’s voice cracked, and Maddie realized the girl was crying. “He did it to get away from her because he couldn’t have her. That’s how I know he’s going to fall in love with you or someone else and leave me all alone again. Or you’ll break his heart, and he’ll leave because he’s not here for me at all.”
The shoulder was wide on this rural highway, and Maddie pulled to the side and put the car in Park. She reached across the console and took Ava’s hand. “Your uncle loves you, and no matter what he wrote in that letter, he came here for you.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know him.”
“And you just admitted you don’t know him either. So all we can do is base our conclusions on the man’s actions and our conversations with him. This is what I know: the moment Josh knew you were in trouble, he moved well over two thousand miles and became your guardian. Also, he didn’t rent an apartment for you both when he got here—which would have been reasonable, given the situation. No, he bought a house. You probably don’t know what a commitment and investment that is, but I can tell you, I’m only two years younger than your Uncle Josh and I haven’t bought a house here, and this is where I know I want to live for the rest of my life. He bought it for you because he wanted you to know you have a home with him.”
“Keith helped him buy it. Probably because he knew Uncle Josh is in love with his wife and wanted to get rid of him.”
The words stung every time Ava said them, but Maddie shoved the feeling aside. “Keith gave Josh the job security needed to get a mortgage and committed to Raptor paying rent for the home office to offset the mortgage. That is not Keith forcing Josh away, and you’re making a lot of assumptions. Listen, your uncle and I have been talking a lot late at night. He’s told me all of this, and he told me why he moved here. He told me he can’t get involved with me because you’re his number one priority.”
“But see, that’s another lie. You’re dating.”
“Would you believe we’re trying not to? Something just…happens when we’re together. But technically, we’ve never been on a date.”
“Tuesday was a date.”
“No, it wasn’t. He had a meeting in the Pearl District, and so did I. We met afterward because it was convenient. He’s helping me with my creepy client problem.”
“Wow, you’re more clueless than me. Uncle Josh did not have a meeting in the city on Tuesday.”
She cocked her head at the girl. “How would you know that?”
Ava pulled out her cell phone. “Shared calendar. He puts all his meetings on it. You were the only person scheduled on Tuesday. Everything else he did by phone or computer.”
Maddie felt a small flush of pleasure—an offset to the idea that she was a mere replacement for Trina—and then ruthlessly shoved all her invading thoughts aside. None of this was about her. Ava was a confused and hurting young woman who needed to know there was one adult in her life she could count on.
“He’s not going to abandon you, Ava. Ever. But he is going to be hurt when he finds out you went snooping in his things.”
The girl’s eyes grew big with alarm. “Please don’t tell him. He’ll hate me.”
She reached out and pushed the girl’s dark hair from her face. “Honey, he could never hate you. He’ll understand, but he’ll be hurt. You’ll have to talk it out. Trust needs to go both ways.”
“You are going to tell him.”
Tell the man I want to have wild, wall-banging sex with that I know he’s in love with his best friend’s wife? Oh, hell no.
She shook her head. “You’ll do it.”
“Are you mad he’s in love with Trina?” The words were a soft whisper. When the conversation started, she’d wondered if Ava’s agenda was to run Maddie off, but now she guessed Ava feared that outcome.
“Josh’s unrequited feelings for someone else are none of my business.” And she had no doubt on the unrequited part. She and Trina might have grown apart due to the miles that separated them, but she knew Trina, and the woman was crazy in love with Keith. She was the kind of happy that made Maddie envious, but also served as a reminder that that kind of love did exist, and Maddie should settle for nothing less for herself.
She touched the back of Ava’s hand. “Whether you like it or not, I’m sticking around. And if things don’t work out between your uncle and me, that won’t mean you can’t reach out to me if you need a woman to talk to.”
Ava swiped at her eyes, and Maddie thought she was going to say something along the lines of thank you, but instead, the girl just shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”
Maddie let out a soft laugh. Oh, to be seventeen and to have no clue how much you didn’t know. “Fine. Just don’t rely on Reddit for everything, ’kay?”
Ava gave her a friendly glare, and Maddie put the car in gear and merged back on the highway again. After ten minutes of silence, Ava said, “Does Uncle Josh know you’re bi?”
“Yes.”
“How many people have you had sex with?”
“At the same time? Seven.”
“Seven!”
“No. It’s none of your business, Ava. Listen, I’ll be honest with you about sex as a concept and relationships in the abstract. I’ll help you find a gynecologist if you want information on birth control, but given that I’m sort of maybe involved with your guardian, specifics about me and my history are off-limits.”
“It’s not like you’re going to be my stepmom.”
“Maybe not, but my relationship with your uncle needs to remain private between us. And if, after we get to know each other, it feels appropriate to share information about my past relationships with you, I will do so. But I’m not going to answer your sex-history quiz at this stage without a damn good reason. We need trust between us too.”
Josh had warned her today wouldn’t be easy. Good Lord, he had no idea. And she couldn’t tell him about the Trina/snooping part of the conversation at all. It was going to be a difficult debriefing.
“Did you download playlists like I suggested?” Cell coverage would get spotty as they drove through hills and windmills, making streaming music difficult. Maddie wasn’t about to risk nearly eight hours in the car round trip without music to entertain the girl.
“Yes. I loaded some audiobooks too.”
“Great. We’re two hours from the visitor’s center. Show me what you’ve got.”
Music cut off the need for conversation, and they settled in, reaching the visitor’s center at eleven as planned. Maddie wanted to walk through the exhibits with Ava, but she had hours of research to do. If she finished early enough, they’d drive through the Painted Hills and go on some of the trails. She gave Ava her car keys so she could sit in the car and read or listen to books or music when she was done exploring the small museum.
Maddie settled into the back room, having been given free range of the files. The work was tedious for the most part, but it always felt like a treasure hunt. Somewhere in here could be the gem that proved where the burials came from. The remains could be returned to where they’d been stolen from.
So maybe it was the opposite of a treasure hunt. It was about putting the stolen artifacts and bones back where they came from.
She found what she was searching for buried deep in an archive box from the 1960s, but it wasn’t what she’d expected. Correspondence between Otto’s son and Clifford II. So, the family association had continued into the next generation. And both families were still looting.
She scanned the files and kept searching, quickly finding more papers that dated right up to the establishment of John Day Fossil Beds National Monument in October 1975—after the passing of the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 and the Archaeological and Historic Protection act of 1974. If she could find proof the families were digging on federal land, or after the passing of either act, she’d have more leverage to break up the collection. She was certain notes had been burned to obscure the provenience of the collection.
If she could show the remains had been taken from federal lands, she would have a strong case for repatriation, because federal agencies had to comply with the law, no matter when it went into effect. And under NAGPRA, federal agencies must repatriate.
All those pretty, intact baskets that must have come from a rockshelter or other dry site. If they’d been taken from federal land, they’d be returned to the government and couldn’t go on display in Shields’s museum. No one would put a price tag on something that should never be in private ownership.
That had to be Shields’s reason for insisting on a valuation of the collection. The man wanted to deaccession—the formal process of removing items from a museum collection—artifacts through private sales. The Kocher family couldn’t sell their mansion, worth several million given the size, condition, and land values, as long as it contained the human remains. So they’d convinced Shields to take the remains, but to do that, they had to give him everything, all the artifacts collected by the family over the decades.
The price of the donation was giving Troy Kocher a job as a security guard, with kickbacks after the artifacts sold to follow.
For Maddie, ensuring much of the collection could never be sold would be deeply satisfying.
Invigorated, she continued combing through files, skipping lunch, which she’d planned to eat with Ava at a picnic table in the parking lot. She texted her and told her to eat without her. The sooner she was done, the sooner they could move on to the looking-at-the-pretty-hills part of this exercise.
She’d planned to visit some of the areas where it was known Otto had dug, but that would wait for another day, when she didn’t have Ava with her. For now, she had what she needed. At three o’clock, she stretched and cracked her joints. She was starving, tired, and her brain was utterly fried.
But she had hundreds of pages of correspondence that showed a long, ongoing association between the Kocher and Nielsen families. A glorious preponderance of evidence that was outside both families’ control.
Were the Kochers and Nielsens still close? Had their unholy alliance continued into this generation?
Troy Kocher was a White Patriot. What about C-IV? Was he a white supremacist in billionaire clothing? What could she find if she searched in the Nielsen archives but focused on the 1990s and early 2000s, instead of the 1920s and 1930s?