Page 2 of Hawkeye

He considered my suggestion before agreeing. “We appraised a donated military collection for their veterans’ organization a few years ago. I kept the Black Castle contact. Let’s see if they answer.”

He put the call on speaker and let me provide part of the explanation to the man who answered.

“Give me ten. I’ll get back to you.”

The line went dead. Mr. Smythe slid the phone into his pocket and looked at the box again, as if the mystery might solve itself. I used the time to add the photographs into the house system and type up my condition notes. Then I put the coin back in its place.

Mr. Smythe’s phone buzzed. He answered on speaker.

“Stryker’s at a private veterans’ fireworks display this evening at the Black Crowns event grounds. He’ll give someone a few minutes about the coin.”

Mr. Smythe glanced at me. I was already putting my bangles back on before pulling off the apron.

“Josie Talbot examined it,” he told his contact. “I’ll send her in a company vehicle with an auction-house security officer.”

“Adding her to the guest list.”

“Thank you.” After the call ended, Mr. Smythe met my gaze. “The box can go in the vault when you return. I know this is outside your normal duties, but you’re best situated to answer any questions Stryker might have.”

I nodded. “I appreciate you trusting me with this.”

“Bring an inspection acknowledgment for Stryker to sign,” he ordered. “Our paperwork must be pristine.”

“Yes, sir.”

I carefully packed the shadow box into a padded locking case while he printed the form. Then I texted my mother.

Me

Off-site appointment. Home late.

The security officer met us at the loading door. He was quiet as we drove to the event grounds, so I enjoyed the scenery outside the passenger window. After passing several valleys and large ranches, I started to wonder if he knew where he was going. Then we pulled up to a guarded gate where a man in a Black Crowns vest checked my name against a tablet.

“Need to see your ID too.”

I handed him my Wynnock employee identification and driver’s license.

“Thanks.” He handed them back and turned his attention to the security officer. “Gonna need you to park near the gate. A prospect will escort her from here.”

The security officer didn’t seem happy about that. “I⁠—”

The other man held his hand up. “It’s either that or nobody goes in.”

“That’s fine.” I leaned forward. “The Black Crowns president is expecting me because I have something that seems to be connected to the club.”

“You can leave it with me if you want,” he offered.

“Absolutely not.” I shook my head. “The box stays with me.”

He radioed for a prospect to come to the gate, then asked, “Open the case?”

“Sure.” I climbed out of my seat and circled to the driver's side of the SUV to open the back door and pull the shadow box from the case. “This is what your president needs to see.”

He screened my bag, but I only let him check the shadow box while I kept both arms around the mahogany. Once he was done, the prospect arrived and tipped his head toward the lights. “This way.”

While I followed him, the security officer parked the SUV in the secured outer parking area near the gate. The grounds were packed with people. Veterans and families. Men in cuts.

The Black Crowns had a reputation for protecting women and children, but the sheer number of armed tattooed men still rattled me.