tone. Part of her was flattered, the other part was infuriated. He was a chauvinist. She was every bit as capable, or at least she had been before her self-confidence had blown away in an angry chatter of bullets. Way down deep at the bottom of her fury, she had the dreaded feeling that maybe Trey Black had been right.
Afghanistan had been a nightmarish combination of unbelievable courage and silent grief. She saw it in the eyes of the soldiers when one of their comrades fell and behind their stoic expressions when things went bad. And she’d forced herself in, obtaining approval by using her connections. So where did the blame really belong?
She shook her head to clear it.
Don’t go back there.
Her cell phone chimed and she answered it, still moving down the stairs.
A deep voice filled the line. “It’s Derick.”
That brought her up short. She could picture his fiftysomething face, still with that luminous big-screen quality and easy charm, the perfect thatch of sandy hair. “Hello. It’s good to hear from you.”
He blew out a breath. “I was worried. Are you all right? Just had another quake and the Imperial is a collapse waiting to happen. I was afraid you might be buried alive.”
She wondered how he knew she was at the opera house. “I’m okay. A chunk of ceiling came down.”
He gasped. “You must leave there immediately. It’s not safe and Barbara would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
She wished she could hear Barbara say those words. “I’m on my way out right now. What can I do for you?”
“I want you to reconsider staying with us here. I know Barbara wouldn’t want you to be in a hotel, especially with all these quakes happening. We’ve got plenty of extra rooms, even with Antonia staying in the guest house.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You’ve been worried about Barbara.” He laughed. “You think I’ve stuffed her away in some closet, I gather.”
“No, of course not,” she said, mentally berating herself for not taking things slower with Derick. “I just worry about her, with her pregnancy and all. It didn’t seem like a reasonable idea to take a trip when she’s due to deliver twins in a matter of weeks.”
He sighed. “Anyone who knows Barbara would agree that she is one headstrong lady. That’s what I love about her. It’s maddening, but we make it work for the most part.”
Sage didn’t know what to say about that. He sounded perfectly sincere, but he was an actor. It was his job to sound sincere. To hear him tell it, his career was in top form, but she’d heard rumblings of financial hardship, bad investments. Maybe it was just rumors. Maybe not.
“I just want you to know I received an email from her today,” he continued.
Sage’s heart sped up. Had she been wrong about everything? “That’s great. What did she say?”
“I’ll read it straight from the screen. ‘So enjoying my time in Santa Fe. Tell Sage to photograph only the front lobby of the Imperial. The rest is a wreck, too dangerous. Will call soon, love and kisses, Barbara.’”
The silence stretched between them until Derick spoke again. “Sage? Did you hear that? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” she managed. “I’m here. Thank you for sharing that with me. I appreciate it.” Her tone sounded wooden to her own ears.
“No trouble at all. Is Antonia with you, by chance?”
Sage wasn’t sure how to answer. “No,” she said. “Why?”
“I need to make sure she’s okay, and we have some business. If you see her, can you have her phone me?” He cleared his throat. “It’s rather urgent. I’ve tried calling her cell, but no answer.”
“Of course.”
“I am on my way down to the theater to make sure everything is locked up properly.”
Her stomach tightened, but she forced a light tone. “I thought you had a caretaker for that.”
“I do, but Rosalind thinks more highly of him than I do. Abandoned buildings are a beacon for the homeless or kids up to no good.” He chuckled. “I told Barbara the Imperial was an enormous black hole, sucking up money and attracting trouble like nobody’s business. She never did see things my way.”
Something about the statement chilled Sage.
“She loves the Imperial.”
“Yes, she does.”
“Promise me you won’t go back inside.”
She tried for a light tone. “I never make promises anymore.”
He hesitated. “Well, at least I can be sure you don’t go in there alone. I’ll be along shortly. Goodbye, Sage.”
Sage clicked off the phone. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving until Trey joined her on the wide step. So Derick needed to see Antonia urgently. Not until Sage got to her first.
“Trouble?” he asked.
She nodded. “My cousin Barbara is missing.”
He frowned. “How do you know that?”
“Because her husband told me she left a message directing me to photograph the front lobby only.”
Trey frowned. “And?”
Sage locked eyes with Trey. “I spoke to her ten days ago. She wanted me to shoot every corner of the Imperial to document the remodeling project from the basement to the rafters. My cousin never does things halfway.”
“So if the email is made up, sounds like he doesn’t want you wandering around in this opera house.” The concern on Trey’s face deepened. “Been to the police?”
She shook her head. “I have an appointment this afternoon, but first I was going to...um, check on something.”
“Sage,” he started.
“Okay, okay. I just need to talk to Antonia Verde. She’s the painter Derick hired. I saw her at the house and she was having a heated discussion with Derick. Very heated. They both clammed up when they saw me, but Antonia knows something. Several times I got the sense she wanted to talk to me, but she didn’t want him to overhear. So we made an arrangement to meet at the theater tonight, but she got here before me. She’s not answering her cell, so I figured I’d snoop around until I found her.” Her cheeks warmed.
He raised an eyebrow. “Going into the detecting business? You don’t seem cut out for that.”
I’m not cut out for anything anymore. Sleepless nights. Panic attacks. Flashbacks and worst of all, the sense that she was dead inside. She forced her chin up. “I’m just here to talk to Antonia.”
“This place...”
