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When she disappeared again, he made his way out of there. But he’d be back soon enough.

CHAPTER

7

AS THEY USUALLY are, my dreams were strange and symbolic. They were also bloody, which wasn’t quite as normal.

I’d gone to bed shortly after taking care of the camera and then a call with Calloway, who was pleased that I’d reported the assault to the new police chief. Calloway suspected the man who attacked me was just someone who hadn’t liked my father’s ways, who probably thought I should have gotten rid of the mounts, not allowed anyone into the museum, not that visitors were pouring in anyway. He probably wasn’t the one who’d built and left the sculpture.

I didn’t tell him about the rock coming over the wall, but besides kids up to no good, there was a chance that someone who wasn’t fond of Wilmot had thrown it. Someone looking to defend animal rights who wanted to make a point. Maybe the attack and the rock had come from the same person. Everyone was looking for him. Time would probably tell.

I’d silently debated aiming the camera out toward The Wild or somewhere out front. Out front had won, but I thought I might order another one for the back.

I’d never been physically assaulted because of my father before yesterday, if that’s what that had truly been about. I’d been yelled at, my property had been damaged, but no one had touched me. No one had thrown anything at me either.

It wasn’t a huge leap to think that the violence I’d experienced was making my dreams bloody.

I wished they’d give me some answers too.

I didn’t tell Calloway about my visit to the Smoots, but I did confirm with him that a body hadn’t been found in the desert, that news of the skeleton had spread fast, the hiker who’d found it having posted on social media before even calling the police. Trisha’s friend had been posting about the skeleton, calling it a body.

Welcome to the modern, overly informed, and unreliable world of information.

Calloway had no leads on any of the mysteries. Nothing. But he wanted me to join him at his office around noon. He had someone he wanted me to meet, and we were all going to drive up to Tucson together. I wondered who it might be, but he had to end the call before he could tell me more.

It was another knock on the museum door that pulled me from the nighttime images that left me foggy-headed and thirsty. I sat up in bed, shook my head, and glanced at the time. It was seven-thirty, and if it wasn’t the police or my attacker, someone probably wanted to see the museum.

“Hang on,” I called, considering yelling “We’re not open,” but I was awake enough. Besides, my coffee pot was calling, and I had a model that wouldn’t brew itself.

I didn’t post museum hours. In fact, people walking through it after Wilmot wasn’t around anymore had been an accident at first. I let in some curious visitors when they knocked on the closed door. Word had spread, and more people had stopped by. I answered when it was convenient for me.

I put myself together as much as I was willing. I opened the nightstand drawer and considered the weapons. Knife or gun? I grabbed the knife and tucked it in my back pocket before making my way downstairs.

I peered out the door, my eyes blinking with the brightness. Oh. Him. What was his name? Sonny … I finally thought to myself before I opened the door.

“What?” I asked.

“Good morning.”

“Not yet.”

“Right. Sorry to bother you so early.”

“Okay. What’s going on?”

Not to be deterred, Sonny fought a smile before he pushed up his glasses.

“I wondered if you’d like to have breakfast at the diner with me?” He paused. “I’ll buy.”

No, I didn’t want to have breakfast with him, anywhere. In fact, I didn’t want to have breakfast at all until at least another hour had passed and caffeine had done a couple laps through my system, paving the way for food, like digestion was supposed to work. I was so thrown off by the whole encounter that all I could do for a moment was cross my arms in front of myself and squint at the man standing on my cracked stoop.

“Right,” he said again. “Well, the new police chief and another officer are over there, having breakfast. I don’t know, it seemed like a good opportunity for you to meet them.”

“Well.” I glanced toward the diner. I squinted and frowned at Sonny again. “I met the chief yesterday but not the new officer. I like your plan, I guess. I’ll buy my own breakfast though.”

“I accept.”

I shook my head at him. “Meet you there.”