Concrete Evidence by Rachel Grant Page B

artifacts.

    E RICA WAITED UNTIL J AKE went diving for the necklaces, then slipped inside his cabin. Jake didn’t have Internet on the boat. He was paranoid other treasure hunters—or, she now realized, federal investigators—would hack his Geographic Information System database and see the inventory of the artifacts they’d retrieved, which were all keyed into the shipwreck map she’d created for him. Jake was similarly paranoid about smartphones. No one on the crew was allowed to have one. So if Marco had photos, they must have arrived in the mail.
    In Jake’s desk, she found an envelope addressed to Marco Garcia care of the marina, with a postmark from Menanichoch, Maryland. Inside the envelope was a thick stack of photographs. She gripped the edge of the desk when she saw the photos. Years ago, she’d attended special lectures and participated in online forums discussing the disastrous chain of events which led to the loss of all the artifacts shown in the stack of pictures.
    Jake planned to trade the Aztec artifacts for relics that had been looted from the Iraq Museum in April of 2003.
    She pocketed the envelope with the Maryland postmark and fled back to her cabin. After locking the door, she leaned against it. Her mind raced; fear made her entire body tremble.
    How did an Indian casino in Maryland end up with a large stash of Iraqi artifacts? And worse, what would happen after Jake got them?
    What a fool she was to think Jake Novak was merely an unethical treasure hunter. He was a high-end dealer in black market antiquities. Her employer was a very dangerous man, and she was stuck on a boat with him. Worse, no one knew where she was.

C HAPTER S EVEN

    July 2011
    Menanichoch, Maryland
    E RICA HAD INTENDED TO GO HOME . She was tired and bothered by her reaction to Lee’s dinner invitation. She’d enjoyed the research and his company. He’d made her laugh. For the first time in a year—maybe more—she hadn’t felt alone. So why did the idea of dinner strike such fear in her? The answer was simple, the problem complex. She was scared of her attraction to him.
    She’d paid dearly the last time she let attraction cloud her judgment.
    She exited the beltway and headed to the reservation almost without thinking. She’d driven this road so many times. It was almost as if the casino were a siren, calling to her.
    Each room of the Menanichoch Casino celebrated a different native culture. There was no Aztec Room, but a new room would be opening soon. She would bet all of her meager possessions the room would have an Aztec theme.
    When the Aztec artifacts went on exhibition for the whole world to see, and it was too late for Sam Riversong—or whoever had purchased them—to hide them or alter them, she would use the photographs she’d taken of the excavation to prove they’d been found in the Manila galleon and not in some Spaniard’s attic. In Mexico, Jake would be charged with theft and smuggling. She smiled tightly and wondered how he would like being locked in a stinking Mexican jail cell.
    In the parking lot, she rested her arms on the steering wheel and stared at the stylish casino. The building had presence—its own offbeat charisma. Before her stood a glass-and-metal structure that looked like a Frank Gehry design with modernized art deco touches that managed to incorporate a Native American aesthetic. The digital marquee screen said the progressive slot machine jackpot was up to ten million dollars. She checked the ashtray and came up with twenty-four cents—a penny shy of being able to try her luck. She scrabbled under the passenger seat and came up with four pennies.
    It was time to make another attempt to find out when the artifacts would go on display. She opened a button on her blouse and smoothed her skirt as she entered the lobby. Cold air hit her in a frigid wave, and she took a deep breath of relief from the outside heat. Noise and lights from the gaming rooms carried across the foyer and