“Sunny Harper is an art investigator.” The words came out in a whisper, almost as if I was forcing it out.
“Good job, Detective,” she clapped. “Damn, boy, thought I was going to have to spell it out for you. Took a while, but you got there and that’s what counts.”
My stomachrolled.“When? Why? … How?”
Hazel put her hands on the counter and leaned in. “Normally, I wouldn’t talk about someone else’s business—well, someone that I respect, anyway. But despite your narrow-minded, cynical view of the world, I like you. And I likeSunny and I don’t want you to screw this up. More than you have already, anyway, cause I’m guessin’ you have.” She pinned me with a disapproving look before continuing. “Yes, Sunny Harper is a fine art investigator. She works undercover.Undercover,Jagg. I didn’t even know it was her who took the scroll until she came clean earlier today. She didn’t want to involve me in the whole mess, bless her heart.”
I ran my fingers through my hair and began pacing. It wasnotmy day.
“How long has she been doing this?”
“When Arlo, her dad, lost his wife, the poor guy went off the deep end. Drinking, gambling, you name it. The guy’s always been a bit eccentric and into art, but he started getting into the black market of stolen art. Buying one-of-a-kind pieces for his properties. You see, when people steal something valuable, they realize they don’t know what to do with it because the authenticity of the art is dependent on the appraisal with it, a simple piece of paper that is rarely stolen with the object. So, Arlo, being the businessman he was, would knowingly purchase stolen art, forge the paperwork, then sell it for triple what it was worth, conning people out of thousands of dollars. This went on for a while, until Sunny found out someone from an insurance company was secretly investigating him. Arlo was one piece of art away from being arrested for larceny with intent to sell, a class B felony, with a sentence of more than a year in federal prison. The agent on the case had been gathering evidence against Arlo for months before Sunny entered the picture and secretly cut a deal to keep her dad out of prison.”
“Let me guess, that agent is Briana Morgan.”
“Yep. Deal was if Sunny recovered the stolen art, Briana would tear up her evidence on Arlo and close the case.Briana got the praise and money for recovering the scrolls and Arlo stayed out of jail. Sunny is the one, the Black Bandit, who recovered the first three Cedonia scrolls. Two weeks later, Briana offered her a job. Sunny’s been an undercover agent for Harold and Associates almost a year now, her primary focus recovering the fourth scroll that I happened to stumble upon at a thrift store.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Shocked. Shook. Completely gobsmacked.
“Hold on.” I held up my hand. “Sunny did all that for her dad? But he’s a jerk. And they’re not close. Hell, she doesn’t even seem to like him at all. Why put her neck out there like that for him? Especially after what she went through?”
Hazel shook her head. “Boy, I’d slap you in the forehead if not for this counter between us. Don’t you get it? Sunny put her neck on the linebecauseof what she went through. She’s fiercely loyalbecauseof what she went through. Because she was betrayed so badly, Sunny will cling onto anyone she truly trusts with bloody fingernails. And I have a feeling she trusts you. Or trusted maybe.”
My heart sank.
Hazel continued, “Sunny didn’t leave Dallas until the deal with Briana was solid, and Arlo had sobered up and started therapy. To this day, Arlo doesn’t even know what Sunny did for him. She is, without question, the most selfless and loyal woman you’ll ever meet.”
And I’d just messed it all up. I drug my fingers through my hair, a feeling of panic, desperation creeping through me.
“When did she tell you all this?”
“This afternoon, when she came looking for that compass she gave you. Poor thing. I could see the torment written all over her face. She hated deceiving you. I’d neverseen her like that. The look in her eyes when she spoke about you. It’s deeper than just like or lust, Detective.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t she just tell me she was the Bandit?”
“Because you were so damn sure the Black Bandit murdered the Lieutenant. On top of that, she’d just been attacked, for the second time, and the entire town was calling her a murderer and a liar. She was scared. She didn’t think you’d believe her that she had nothing to do with shooting that cop… hell, I genuinely think she thought you’d arrest her.” Hazel tilted her head to the side. “You’re not the kind of guy that exactly screams, ‘hey, you can open up to me.’”
The guilt I was feeling was an iron fist in my stomach.
“Close your mouth dear…” (I didn’t even realize it was hanging open). “… and go get her. It’s my guess you’ve got a lot of apologizing to do and I’m guessing?—”
Her words were cut off by the sound of sirens blasting through the air.
That fist in my gut? Twisted ten times over, an instinct sending a chill up my spine.
Hazel’s eyes widened.
Another siren, then another, a chorus of sirens wailing in the distance.
My phone rang.
“Jagger.”
Shouts and screams filled the other end of the call. “It’s Colson.” His voice was panicked. He was running. I could hear the footsteps and the hitch of his breath.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s a fire at the festival. At Devil’s Cove. The mountain is going up in flames.” He jerked the phone away and shouted orders to someone before continuing. “The entiretown will burn down if we don’t get it under control. I’m calling in everyone I know. Trucks are headed to the festival, but the fire didn’t originate there. We don’t know where yet. I’ve got?—”
