“My mother,” Heather lied. “Eilidh Campbell.”
“Our Eilidh,” Henderson repeated softly.
Heather’s stomach tightened.
Notour.
Not anymore.
“She worked with Eleanor McRae,” Heather said carefully. “I’m trying to understand Where I fit in the puzzle. Family tree research, and all that.”
Henderson’s lips tightened with sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss, dear.”
“Thank you.”
The woman reached for a pencil. “Well, our archives will help place your Mackenzies. Out of loyalty to your mother, I’ll arrange access to our restricted materials, David can show you the way.”
Heather froze inside.
Restricted materials.
Access supervised by Kerr.
“Thank you,” she said aloud, trying to appear calm and collected.
“If you find anything relevant to Glenoran, or the Jacobite gold, do keep me updated. Our case went cold after yourmother… passed. That is, until you came along with your findings.”
Heather’s throat tightened, but she kept her face smooth. “Of course.”
Henderson rose. “Let me fetch Erinn from archives.”
The door opened before she could take a step.
Mr. Kerr.
“Erinn’s ready for her,” he said.
“Good,” Henderson replied serenely. “Walk her down.”
Kerr gestured to the hall. “After you.”
Fine.
She stepped through the stairwell door, bright museum lights washing over her.
If he was watching, let him watch.
Heather Campbell knew how to walk straight into daylight with a secret burning in her pocket.
Chapter 19
Heather—Present Day
The museum’s service stairwell spilled them into the main gallery level again, the air cooler here, touched with marble and polish. Kerr moved ahead of her, measured and silent, his ID badge glinting as they neared the lobby. Heather stayed a pace behind, phone in hand, pretending to scroll while each nerve ending in her body tracked the man’s every move.
They stepped out into the atrium’s light; sun fractured through the high panes, the noise of school groups rising like the tide. Kerr angled toward the corridor leading to the archives.
That was when she heard it.
