What had Leif been up to? Planting a murder weapon? Searching for the package? Looking for a connection between the bar’s collectors and the museum and the artifact? Whatever the reason, his search had killed him.

And too many others.

Her cell buzzed. She glanced down and read the text from Jeremy. He’d learned something more and wanted her to call when she was free. She listened to the voice mail that had come in earlier. Marcus Briggs wanted to meet with her to talk strategy? He must be as good as Gramps made him out to be. He could want to get a better read on her support of her grandfather so he could know what he could count on, or what he was up against.

Terra rubbed her scalp as she headed to her vehicle. She was much too popular today. She still felt shaken from last night’s experience. Early in the conversation with Valerie, a distant drum had started beating in Terra’s head, and now the pounding had closed in and decided to stay. She’d contact Jeremy later and instead stick to her original plan to stop by her apartment. She needed her own space. Before heading out, she called Jack but got his voice mail, so she detailed her meeting with Valerie, including that the security videos should be reviewed again. She also let him know she needed space today and would reach out to him tomorrow.

With no more news from her superior, Terra headed home. On the drive, she thought about her conversations with Owen and Gramps. It was probably best if she were removed from the case. She suspected the additional agencies—the FBI Art Crime Division in particular—could possibly take over soon. And she wouldn’t have to work with Jack anymore.

She wouldn’t have to see him again.

At her apartment, the place felt strange and empty—and also lonely without Sudoku. She texted her neighbor Allie to see if she was home. If so, Terra would be over soon to see if Su remembered her. When she didn’t receive an immediate text back, she showered and changed into jeans and a fresh T-shirt.

Adrenaline rushed out of her, and she sank onto the sofa and let the tears fall.

All the recent events charged at her.

The images, the emotions that took front and center related to Jack collapsing. All the blood. Then the tender and yet passionate kiss—years of pent-up emotions finally liberated—and Terra’s subsequent statement, declaring an end to any hope of a future for the two of them.

Who was she kidding? She still totally cared about the guy. Okay, well, she would admit to herself in this moment . . . she still loved him.

Loved?

Had she ever truly stopped?