Free Tattered Legacy (A Nora Abbott Mystery) by Shannon Baker

thoughtlessness. If he could, Warren would have scooped her up just to hear her giggle. He’d tousle those soft curls, tell her a story, grant her every wish.
    Hans’s eager eyes sought Warren. “You are a man of true vision. I can see that God speaks through you.” His voice sounded sincere even if his words felt prepared.
    Warren tried to deflect adoration. “God speaks to us all if we listen. As scripture tells us, we all have the capability to become brothers to Jesus Christ.”
    Hans nodded eagerly. “Yes. Yes. I believe and that’s why we’ve come to join you.”
    Katrina’s worried smile showed a little less enthusiasm, but joining her husband demonstrated obedience, a trait lacking in most modern women.
    Warren’s feet throbbed and he needed to return to the penthouse to rest. “You’ll be met at the airport in Denver and given keys to a vehicle big enough for your family and luggage. Maps to Moab will be inside.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Evans,” Hans said.
    “It’s best if you go straight to the compound. But if you get lost, my nephew’s phone number is included with the maps.”
    Katrina stood and thanked Warren with a more fluid English than Hans. “I have studied the scriptures, taking special interest in those you pointed out. I see how the timing is perfect, how this is what God asks of us. I appreciate you allowing us, our children, for inclusion.”
    The praise the immigrants heaped on him made him uncomfortable. “There are still a couple of days until the solstice, so enjoy the beautiful scenery. The compound is isolated, but be vigilant and stay out of sight.”
    They thanked him again and Warren turned to leave.
    Before he pulled the door open, he gave in to his desire. Even though it cost him the pain of several extra steps, he went to the little girl and placed his hand on her head. To Hans and Katrina, it probably looked like Warren was blessing her. In reality, the feel of the soft curls and skin still warm from sleep blessed him.

Ten
    Despite the blazing mid-day sun, Nora felt chilled. Clutching Lisa’s ashes, she trudged around the bookstore to the parking lot. Local antagonism over the feds snatching more land ran high. Lisa had been accosted in restaurants and lambasted in the local paper. But would the locals feel threatened enough to kill her?
    Marlene’s ominous insinuation had to be the fallout from grief and anger.
    Still, Lisa had sounded scared in that voicemail.
    Nora shivered in the shade as she stood in the alley next to the bookstore. She glanced up to see if clouds had moved in for an afternoon monsoon rain. A flash of blue in her peripheral vision made her freeze.
    Someone had scribbled graffiti on the side of the bookstore, too high to reach on foot. In blue spray paint they’d imitated countless rock art figures throughout the Southwest. This collection of drawings consisted of big-headed figures with antennae, the profile of a saucer-shaped boat with a person sitting in it, and some giant human-type figures holding goats or antelope in their hands. Toward the bottom the symbol from her dream jumped out at her. Three concentric circles, sort of like a target, with six sets of two parallel lines radiating outward. It looked like a weird sunburst. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
    Oh, for heaven’s sake. Her imagination was up to its usual mischief. Shaking her head, she crossed the lot to the Jeep. She balanced the box on her hip, pulled the Jeep key from her pocket, and unlocked the door. Abbey uncurled himself from where he’d slept in the passenger seat and stood. He delicately stepped over the gear shift, wagging his tail in greeting. He stuck his nose toward Nora for a hello pat and jumped from the Jeep.
    Darrell popped around the corner of the bookstore. His face lit up when he saw Nora. “Hi again.”
    Nora couldn’t help but notice Darrell’s good looks. If he hadn’t gone into politics, he would have made a terrific movie star. Even his saunter spoke of