“All right,” he said. “Let’s say we get the warrant and get into the cabin. You’re calling the items artifacts, but they could be made by contemporary Native Americans and not artifacts at all.”

The pots still had dirt on them, as if someone had recently dug them up. “Maybe, but what I saw . . . I’m leaning artifact. The Montana tribes, the Crow tribe for instance, followed the bison. They were considered Plains tribes and didn’t spend much time making pottery. These pots look more Hopi anyway.” Even stranger.

“Hopi?”

“A nonmigratory tribe in the four corners. The Hopi are the descendants of the Anasazi.” What were you up to, Jim Raymond?

“How do we find out what we’re dealing with—stolen or illegal or perfectly fine?”

“A museum or a qualified appraiser could assess them. In our case, a forest service archaeologist could make the determination, and if the items are illegal, they would be held in a repository until they could be returned to the rightful tribe.”

“If they are determined to be illegal items, they would be held as evidence.” He crossed his arms.

“Or repatriated to the tribe they belong to. So, you see, it gets complicated.”

He sighed. “First, we need to get into the cabin.”

His cell rang. “Speak of the—” He answered, “Tanner here . . . Yep. We’ll go in first. Send an evidence tech.”

“You got it?”

He nodded. “We’re good to go.”

They each donned latex gloves. Jack held the door for Terra.

She remained at the entrance along with Jack, taking in the room.

Shelves lined the walls, most of them empty. Jim had furnished the two-room cabin with the basics for staying in the woods. The living space had two old plush sofas and a chair. A small kitchen in the corner. A double sleeping cot in another corner. But the shelves had drawn Terra’s attention, and she peered at the two pots closely, noting the cracks.

“I don’t see any obvious footprints, but let’s limit our tracks and evidence contamination.”

“Got it.” She took pictures with her phone.

On closer examination, she noticed some staining, as though someone had tried to clean at least one of the pots with regular soap, and that confirmed her suspicions. “We’ll leave these here for the evidence techs to see—maybe they can grab fingerprints, but I need them for the archaeologist.”

“Fine. What else are you thinking?”

“All these shelves. What are they for?”

“I don’t know. Books?”

She shook her head. “No. They’ve been wiped clean. But these two items were left behind, or they were added later. Recently. Maybe Jim brought them up here, and that’s why he came to the cabin. Then he was killed.”