Page 26 of Sapphire Nights
She didn’t find much. Her father had been a pilot.The plane had gone down in a winter storm over the mountains just after she started at the university, as Walker had said. The Utah paper called them local artists who showed their work in galleries in majorcities.
Having just seen Lance, the Kennedy artist, she wondered if he’d known her parents—but she had no way of connecting them to Hillvale except her strangeposition.
Shesearched under her parents’ names as artists and found one or two newspaper articles from San Francisco and Los Angeles. The news photos of their artwork weren’t good, and she got no sense of familiarity from them. She’d have to drive down to the galleries... After she got alicense.
Had they left a will? A house? Anexecutor?
Digging deeper, she found one grainy photo of the twoof them together. She stared indisbelief.
Wolf Moon was as Native American as his name—thick black straight hair pulled back from a wide dark brow. Sharp nose, powerful jaw, grimmouth.
And Jade... Jade Moon was at least part Asian. Delicate, beautiful, elongated eyes, petite nose, smilingwarmly.
Sam felt a distinct tug at that smile, butnothing in this photo looked likeher image in the mirror. How had Walker concluded that they were her parents? She dug her fingers into her own pale haystack of hair and gazed in admiration at her parents’ silken blacklocks.
If she’d been adopted, she supposed their names would be the ones she would use as her parents on a university application. She wouldn’t know anyother.
Feeling totally spooked now, she decidedshe ought to know as much about Deputy Walker as he did about her. That decision tilted her world backupright.
She dug down, looking for a Chen Ling Walker with a police background and an age of roughly early thirties. She uncovered a small article from about a year ago, in theLA Times,about a Chen Ling Walker who’d been shot attempting to save his young son from his suicidal wife. Therewere no follow-up stories. Someone had hushed it up or there would have been big headlines on a story thisjuicy.
Sam stared at the article, her stomach roiling. It merely listed this Walker as CEO of a Los Angeles security company. The wife had a history of mental illness. No specifics. The son had only been a baby. He’d died. Her heart ached for a man she didn’t know. Or didshe?
Walker limped—from a gunshot wound? There weren’t too many Chen Ling Walkers in the world. Could this really be him? If so, she wished she hadn’t looked. How did one survive that level ofanguish?
But why would the CEO of anything be working as an underpaid deputy in the middle ofnowhere?
She poked around and couldn’t find anything more likely. Maybe he was related to this otherperson, and it was a family name. Or maybe he really was just that invisible—no public recognition for anything. She didn’t have the ability to search credit records and government databases the way hedid.
She had just put her own name into the search engine when the glass office door blew open on a whirlwind. Sam looked up, startled, as Ms. Viking Shoulders swooped in. Carmel Kennedypractically glowed California gold—including amber eyes that weren’t warm as she glared atSam.
“Who are you and what are you doinghere?”
“Good morning,” Sam said brightly. “And youare?”
She was definitely smart-mouthed. Wouldn’t a poor student be obedient andterrified?
Carmel obviously thought so. Her glare grew colder. “I own this place and you are not one of myguests.”
“What gave that away? The tattered jeans? The muddy Nikes? Sorry I didn’t wear my diamonds to climb the hill.” Really, if she’d talked like this all her life, someone should have shot her—except she didn’t talk like this at the diner. “May I help you? The other computer should work, if you need it. The facilities here areexcellent.”
“Only guests are allowed access to thisoffice. I will have to ask you to leave,” the ogre demandedfrostily.
The more Carmel irritated, the more Sam dug in. Weird. She really ought to beintimidated.
“Kurt considers me a guest,” she said with her biggest smile. The lodge manager would no doubt kill her, but she was quite done with being treated like an insect. “If he asks me to leave, I will happily doso.”
Fortunately,before Golden Girl exploded, a familiar male voice spoke from behindher.
“Samantha? We’re going to need your help with Val. Good morning, Mrs. Kennedy. Kurt said we could use the back lot again, if that’s all right withyou.”
Deputy Walker waited in the corridor, unable to enter the office without bodily removing the lodge owner. Although he wasn’t a bulky man, he stood taller andbroader than Carmel. Despite his polite words, his authoritative baritone said it wasn’t a request. This was not the deference of an underpaiddeputy.
“I am talking to the DA about this repeated invasion of private property,” Mrs. Kennedy said in a low voice that resembled a hiss. “I will not tolerate these locals harassingus.”
“Then find a way to keep people from burying bodiesup there, and my job is done.” He backed up and gestured for her todepart.
Oh crap, they really had found another body. Did she want to go with him? No, she wanted to flee this mountain and never come back—if only she knew where togo.
