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“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “The letters specifically talk about sales.”
“I see.” He paused. “How did they wind up mixed in with a stack of your essays?”
The memory of her surprise meeting with Hez popped into her head, flustering her more than it should have. “I . . . was a little distracted when I left yesterday, and I must have accidentally grabbed them with my students’ papers.” She hurried on before he could ask what had distracted her. “Someone must’ve left them there by mistake, but who? We can’t let someone pilfer those artifacts—they’re worth so much, in both monetary and cultural value.”
He was silent for a moment. “Do you have any idea who it might be?”
As soon as he asked the question, she knew the answer. “Someone who has access to the Willard Treasure, the university seal, and our letterhead. And who likes to live larger than his university salary allows.”
“I think I know who you have in mind.”
“Ellison.”
He sighed. “It’s possible you’re right, Savannah—but you’ll need more evidence. A lot more. Bringing down a university president isn’t easy, and trying is dangerous.”
“I know.” She bit her lip. “I’ll need help from someone high up in the administration, someone who really knows the system.”
“Someone like the provost.” He took her unsubtle hint, a note of resignation in his voice. “Okay. I’ll need to see those provenance documents. Give me the weekend to see what I can find out.”
* * *
Hez had planned to take a mini vacation on the Gulf shore. He’d have dinner at Billy’s—hopefully with Savannah—and spend the night at the Bayfront Inn, a cozy little B and B he and Savannah had stayed at a few times. The morning would be devoted to old Pelican Harbor favorites: a run in the park before it got too hot, takeout beignets from Petit Charms, a walk along the beach (hopefully also with Savannah), and coffee at one of the little shops that dotted downtown.
It was, of course, a terrible plan from beginning to end. He knew it the moment he walked into Billy’s. The smell of grilling oysters should have made his mouth water, but instead it made his stomach churn. Savannah loved them almost as much as he did, and they’d often shared an order when they came here for dinner. He left after barely being able to choke down a cup of crab-and-corn chowder.
The Bayfront Inn was even worse. It had been a rambling old mansion before being converted to a bed-and-breakfast twenty years ago, and rumors abounded that it was haunted. And for Hez, at least, it was: the ghost of his dead marriage followed his every step. There was their favorite nook in the dining area. And the stairs leading up to the suite on the top floor where they’d stayed on their anniversary, the one with the skylights and the panoramic view of the bay.
He lay awake until after two, then finally fell asleep.
Hez moved through the house, but his legs dragged like lumps of concrete. Where was Ella? He wanted his little girl’s arms around his neck. Door after door opened in his hand, but each space stood empty. He had to find her.
He tried to call her name, but his vocal cords made no sound. The last door loomed before him, and he reached for it with trembling fingers. It didn’t budge when he yanked on it, but it released on the second try.
He stared into the abyss, then backed away. He needed to scream, but he couldn’t open his mouth.
Hez bolted upright in bed, shaking and covered in sweat, iron bands of grief and guilt still coiled tight around his heart. He’d never get back to sleep, so he went for a run at four. He was back by five o’clock and on the road back to Birmingham by six.
It was a relief to see Pelican Harbor in the rearview mirror. The first rays of dawn gilded the tops of the highest buildings as he pulled out of the inn’s parking lot, and he could hear the gulls crying as they flapped out to follow the shrimpers. He loved the little town, but it was crowded with memories and had no room for him anymore.
He spent the four-hour trip listening to continuing-education podcasts, pausing occasionally to dictate notes when he came across something useful for one of his cases. It was mostly dull stuff, but it forced him to get his mind out of the past. It worked—by the time he reached the parking lot for his apartment building in Birmingham, he had new ideas for a couple of cases and a tentative list of schools to call about the Justice Chamber.
As he walked to the building, a man got out of a car and intercepted him. The guy was a twentysomething in khakis with a neat beard and shoulder-length black hair. He was carrying a thick envelope and looked vaguely like an upscale messenger.
“Hezekiah Webster?”
“Yes.”
The guy thrust the envelope into Hez’s hands, then stepped back and snapped a picture with his phone. “You’ve been served.”
The guy got back into his car and drove off as Hez opened the envelope. It contained a stack of legal documents. The top one was titled “Divorce Complaint” and was captioned “Savannah Webster v. Hezekiah Webster.”
Chapter 4
Spanish moss hanging from the tupelo trees that lined the pond blocked the breeze as well as the morning sunshine. Savannah sat on a bench and fanned herself with the folder in her hand. Beckett should be here any minute. The trees around this garden area shielded their meeting from students walking along the path to class.
She spotted the gator sunning himself on the other side of the water. The back of her neck prickled as if someone was peering at her from the foliage around the pond, but she saw no one. Nerves, most likely. She wanted concrete evidence so she could confront President Abernathy. He was so good at lying, and they’d have to have something he couldn’t explain away.
She spotted a flash of red and saw Beckett striding toward her. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought it was Hez. How had she missed Beckett’s resemblance to Hez until now? Same erect carriage, same dark hair. His eyes were brown instead of blue like her husband’s, but the resemblance was startling from a distance. She didn’t want to examine why she might have been drawn to him in the first place. So far she’d managed to turn aside his dinner invitations, and realizing he resembled Hez made her doubly glad she’d turned him down.
