Free Last Breath by Mariah Stewart Page A

dangerous.
    He stepped out and looked around the campus as if to get his bearings, one arm leaning on the top of the car. He wore dark glasses and a shirt open at the neck, well-fitting jeans, and had a light-colored sport jacket slung over one shoulder.
    He looks like a government agent,
she thought as she stared shamelessly.
Or a spy.
    â€œâ€¦wondering if you’d had a chance to look through those journals of your great-grandfather’s,” Louise was saying.
    â€œOh. Yes.” Daria reluctantly turned from the window. “I did. Almost all of them, actually. It was quite fascinating, almost like being there.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought, too, when I read them. I was thinking if once we get the exhibit open, perhaps your family might give approval to have them published. In the hands of the right publisher, we might have a bestselling series.”
    â€œWell, the reading is certainly interesting enough, I agree. I don’t know who you would have to get permission from, though.” Daria frowned. “I don’t know who actually owns them. It may be the university. If they were part of his estate, and the estate was left to the school…”
    â€œWe can have that looked into. I’d still want the blessing of the McGowan family even if Howe does legally own them. Maybe we could include a forward from you,” she said thoughtfully. “The bridge between one generation and another. Perhaps your father would want to contribute, as well.”
    Louise was about to say something else when there was a knock on the half-opened door.
    â€œDr. Burnette?” The tall man filled the doorway. “I’m Connor Shields.”
    Louise walked to the door to greet him.
    â€œYes, I’m Louise Burnette. Please, come in, Agent Shields. We’ve been waiting for you.”
    â€œGood to meet you.” Connor shook her hand and smiled, then looked beyond her.
    â€œAnd you know Dr. McGowan,” Louise stepped aside as Daria made her way across the office.
    â€œDaria, it’s good to see you again.” Connor took her hand and held it warmly between both of his.
    â€œThank you for coming right away, Connor.” Daria cleared her throat. “Especially since it’s Sunday.”
    â€œWhen I said anytime,” he lowered his voice, “I meant
anytime.
”
    â€œI…we appreciate it.” A flush crept up from beneath Daria’s collar to her cheeks.
    â€œLet’s have a seat, shall we?” Louise gestured toward the chairs near the window.
    Connor let go of Daria’s hand, and waited until both women sat before seating himself.
    He is very well-mannered, for an American,
Daria recalled Magda saying, and the hint of a smile crossed her lips.
    â€œDaria explained your situation on the phone,” Connor told Louise. “Frankly, I have to admit I’m having a hard time understanding how such valuable objects could have been kept here all these years, yet no one bothered to check on them.”
    â€œIt isn’t so unusual, Connor.” Daria touched his arm. “There are many, many museums that have locked rooms with locked crates that haven’t seen the light of day in fifty or a hundred years. New objects are acquired and the older acquisitions are moved farther back into the storage area—often a basement or warehouse. Curators are hired and fired, and sometimes their records are misplaced. Acquisitions are often forgotten over time.”
    â€œAnd here at Howe,” Louise added, “in the last fifty years, dinosaurs became more popular than ancient cultures. As I mentioned to Daria, the last curator’s interests lay in the area of American natural history. Professor McGowan’s finds, along with those of another archaeologist who led an expedition about the same time, were locked away and pretty much forgotten as other items were acquired and put on display.”
    â€œWhat reminded you?”