Present Danger by Elizabeth Goddard (heaven official's blessing novel english txt) 📕

here to talk and let off steam. They won’t feel so comfortable talking to me if they see me talking to you.”

Jack slid onto a stool. “Like anyone could tell I’m a cop. I’m not wearing a uniform.”

The man laughed. “I pegged you as soon as I saw you standing at my door.” He grabbed a couple of small bottles of club soda and handed one to Jack. “It’s on the house.”

Jack produced a five-dollar bill. “Thanks, but I’m more than happy to pay. If we get this over with before you officially open, then you don’t need to worry that anyone will see you talking to me.”

The guy nodded. “Fine. Mind going out the back when we’re done? I usually come in that way but stopped in at the pharmacy across the street.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Thanks for the invitation. That would give him a chance to look the place over on his way out. “So, what’s your name?”

The man started wiping down the bar, a predictable work habit, and right now, an obviously nervous habit. “You mean my real name?”

“That, and I’d also like your Bar Wars name.” Jack took the moment to take in the memorabilia. Huh. Interesting a place like this would be popular in Montana.

“My name’s Chet Reeves. But here, it’s Jabba the Hutt.”

Jack chuckled. “You’re kidding.”

Chet burst out laughing, and Jack joined him. The guy seemed friendly enough, and Jack hoped he could get some good intel.

“Yeah, I’m kidding. I’m Boba Fett.” Chet placed a replica of a Star Wars laser kind of gun on the counter.

Jack hated to admit he wasn’t a Star Wars geek, but he still knew a few things. He snapped his fingers repeatedly. “He’s . . . he’s . . . no, wait, let me get this one. He’s the bounty hunter.”

“And a Mandalorian.”

Whatever you say. “Should I call you Boba or Chet?”

“Take your pick.”

“Okay, um . . . Boba.” No, wait. He couldn’t have a serious conversation like this. “I mean, Chet. Who is Mark Hamill or Luke Skywalker?”

“The owner. The owner and his wife founded this place probably thirty years ago. It started out western-styled, and eventually they added more pop culture, then shifted to the Star Wars theme.”

“After that actor moved here, I’m guessing.”

“Yep.”

“And where are they now?”

“They come in now and again.”

“They own it, but they aren’t hands on when running it?”

“She is. Oh, she’s here to make sure the stuff is arranged just so. They collect all this Stars Wars stuff at shows they attend.”

“Who is she?”

“Princess Leia?”

“Um . . . yeah, who is she really?” Jack could discover that information himself, but he found this conversation fascinating and it got Chet talking.

“Mabel Porcella. Dirk is her husband.”

“Dirk, who goes by Luke here at the bar. So, is there a Darth Vader?”

Chet laughed again. “We could go on and on, ya know? But I have a feeling you didn’t come here to talk about the Star Wars collections or names.”

“I came here to talk about Blevins.”

Chet stilled. His face might have paled a few shades, but it was too dark inside for Jack to be sure.

“Just tell me about the guy who took his place.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, I could just wait around until Billy Dee gets here and find out then.”

Someone pushed through the door and entered the bar.

Chet leaned forward and relayed the information in such low tones, Jack almost didn’t hear him. “Tonight at ten-thirty, the guy who took Blevins’s place will be here. You can ask him yourself when you see him. Why so interested?”

I’m following up on all information connected to two murders. Jack suspected Chet had probably figured that out, but he kept it to himself. He shrugged.

“There’s something more, and this might be the best part,” Chet said.

“I’m listening.”

The news Chet shared definitely intrigued him.

“Thanks for the information.” Jack left a big tip as he bid his new friend goodbye and headed through the back, amazed at just how many collectibles could be displayed on one wall.

He pushed through the exit door and found himself in a back alley facing the back entrance to the museum.

FORTY-FIVE

Tension corded her neck. Terra needed to rein in her focus if she was going to get caught up before her early dinner with Alex and Erin so they could head out to the memorial together.

After leaving Jack at the diner, Terra had stopped by the museum, but it was closed on Mondays. She’d then driven into the district office and spent the rest of the day catching up on paperwork on her various investigations.

Case Haymaker approached and leaned against the edge of her desk. “Terra, how’s it going? Haven’t seen you in too many days.”

“Hey.” She glanced away from the computer to smile at him and saw the deep concern in his eyes.

“What?”

“I’m glad you made it out of the Maverick fire alive,” he said. “That had to have been terrifying.”

So that’s what they’d named it. She exhaled slowly. “It was, at that. I’m relieved they contained it before it reached Stone Wolf Mountain.” Though so much forest had been lost. “Listen, it’s good to see you, but I have a lot to get on top of here.” She couldn’t afford to fall behind.

“I understand, so I’ll leave you to it.” Case made to leave, then hesitated, turning back to her. “Watch your back, Terra. It seems like you’re caught in the crosshairs a lot lately.”

Case disappeared through the door and left her to think on his words. Wait. What had he heard? How much did he know?

Case . . . Case was about six feet tall, wasn’t he? Terra rubbed her temples. Every six-foot-tall man couldn’t be a suspect. She was grasping at proverbial straws. Anything to keep the investigation from turning toward Leif, and by default, her brother.

She stared at the cell on her desk and itched to call Jack to find out if he’d learned anything more. Also, to hear his voice. She hadn’t meant to rush out of the diner—especially