Startled, Kat heard the clock chime again. She glanced up, an eerie feeling creeping down her spine.
The doors to the patio were no longer open; she was in the house with two fellow agents and no one else. There was no reason to have such a feeling, except…
She saw an elderly man standing before her. Tall and erect, clean-shaven with snow-white hair. His eyes were sad and his cheeks sagged heavily.
She knew that face; she had come to know the face and form of Austin Miller as he’d lain on the autopsy table.
“You see me, my dear?” he whispered, and his words were both hopeful and pained.
No matter how many times she’d seen the dead, it was always a shock.
She had so wanted to see this man. To speak with him…
“Yes,” she said, her voice tremulous.
“It was no accident. Please, do not let it go as an accident!”
“No, sir, I will not,” she told him.
“You’ll see that justice is done?”
“Yes.” She stared at him. “But we need your help, sir. We believe that someone came upon you, terrified you—and knocked your arm when you reached for your pills. Can you tell me who did it?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Who?”
“The mummy,” he said. “The mummy came to me and killed me.”
“Anything?” Will asked, looking up as Tyler came to stand in the bedroom doorway.
Tyler shook his head. “The guest rooms are neat, tidy and dust-free. They’re filled with paintings, statues and knickknacks, most of them relating to Egyptology, and some of them to the history of Chicago. There’s not a single piece of clothing and there’s not a scrap of paper with any notes. I’ve opened every jar and looked in every vase and…not a thing.”
“What did you find when you searched the property?” Will asked.
“Nothing, but I noted the same small disturbance in the grass that you did—near the section of wall where you found the scrap of gauze and the broken statue. I’d definitely agree that someone crawled over the wall and came at Miller from his patio doors. Anything in here?”
“Too much. Notes about doctors’ appointments, notes about meetings to be held at the house and a ‘note to self: pressure Chicago Ancient History Preservation Center.’ Obviously, they didn’t need to pressure them a lot. Brady Laurie was so excited that he made the most foolish mistake any diver can make—diving alone. Maybe he and Dr. Channel had the same personality trait—no faith in anyone else. Speaking of Amanda, Kat heard her talking on the phone today, telling someone that she’d ‘find it,’ or words to that effect. She told Kat she was talking about a CD, but she’s an iffy character, to say the least.”
“Logan has our Krewe looking up backgrounds on everyone involved, so if there’s something we should know about her, we should know it soon,” Tyler said. “How can I help you in here?”
“Take the dresser,” Will suggested.
As Tyler walked toward it, Will’s cell phone rang. He answered it immediately. “Chan.”
“Will, it’s Logan.”
“We’re still at Austin Miller’s house,” Will told him.
“Yes, I figured as much.” He paused for a long moment. “I have some strange information for you. That material you found—on the wall at the hotel and then at Miller’s house.”
“The gauzy stuff that looks like mummy wrapping.”
“I sent it to an expert in D.C. early this morning. He got right on it, and called me a few minutes ago.”
“What is it? A prop from a movie set?”
“No. It’s the real thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“According to the carbon dating, that wrapping is Egyptian. He estimates it to have been used in the New Kingdom—and it’s possibly from the reign of Ramses II.”
“What?”
“It’s real, Will. At one time, that wrapping covered a real mummy.”
9
Will agreed with Logan, who’d decided he’d have Jane return to the hotel, ready to sketch, and that he’d have Kat bring some of the files and journals back with her.
Will hung up and called Kat on her cell. She sounded strange, which worried him, and he hurried downstairs, Tyler Montague right behind him. Tyler hadn’t said a word but looked concerned. Will felt a little stab of envy, but he knew that he had the same sense of closeness with his own Krewe, all wonderful people. It would be easy to become attached to this Texas Krewe, as well.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Kat was standing in the entry waiting for them, a stack of journals in her hands. She seemed calm enough, and yet a little shell-shocked.
“What is it?” Will asked
“I saw him,” she said softly.
“Him?” Tyler echoed. “Who? You okay, Kat?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “One of our ghosts showed up. Mr. Miller. He found me in the office. He wants us to help him bring his killer to justice.”
“He’s…gone?” Will asked.
She nodded. “I guess he’s still…finding his way. He was standing in front of me clear as day and he spoke to me, said that a mummy killed him, and then he faded away. But he trusts us,” she said softly.
“He trusts us…to track down a killer mummy?” Tyler spoke incredulously.
“We’ve seen some pretty strange things,” Kat said.
Will looked at her sharply. “You don’t believe in a killer mummy,” he told her. “I’m sure you believe exactly what I believe—that someone with access to historical artifacts, as in a researcher or museum employee, is dressing up like a mummy. Most of the costume probably isn’t real, but the culprit has taken wrapping from a real mummy somewhere and, accidentally or on purpose, is leaving those bits around to be discovered. There you go. That explains the continuation of the mummy’s curse!”
“Well, a mummy from a shipwreck didn’t kill Brady Laurie,” Tyler said. “Unless things have changed since I went down in the deep, those wrappings—real or fake—would start to disintegrate quickly.”
“Yes, but how better to give an elderly man with a heart condition cardiac arrest than by walking in on him as a mummy—and then slapping his digitalis out of his hand?” Will touched Kat’s cheek gently. “Let’s go. It’s time for us to meet back at the hotel,” he said.
“What about Jane?”
“She’ll wait for us there.”
“Aren’t you and Sean supposed to meet up with the film crew tonight?”
“We will.”
They split up at their cars but drove straight back to the hotel. Logan had ordered food to the suite, and serving dishes, warmed by Sterno burners, were set up along one of the buffets. The table was filled with the team members, surrounded by computers and sheets of work they’d printed during the day.
With all seven of them gathered in the room, Logan started a wipe-clean chart to write down what they’d discovered; this was their usual procedure. Someone had access to mummy wrapping used in ancient Egypt. It had been discovered in two places, so obviously that someone had tried to get into Will’s and Kat’s rooms when they’d first arrived. Someone—or two someones working together—had wanted to scare everyone around them with the possibility of Amun Mopat’s curse.
Kat reported on speaking with Austin Miller’s ghost at his home, and explained how speaking with him verified that someone had come upon him—the mummy, according to Austin—and the bruise on his arm had come when “the mummy” blocked him from getting to his medication. She told them what she’d heard Amanda say about finding it during her phone call, and what she’d seen in her mind’s eye during the dive.
“How did it go with you all?” Will asked, looking around the table.
“The active members of the Egyptian Sand Diggers number forty. It was forty-one, but now with Austin Miller gone…well, it’s down to forty,” Logan said. “They come from every walk of life and range from the youngest, who’s just turned twenty-one, to the oldest member, Dirk Manning. I was able to speak to about five of them at the club today, and they all seemed genuinely sad that Austin was no longer among them. They believe in art and history—and they all say there is no curse.”
“I learned that Andy Simonton of Simonton’s Sea Search, has a little Mako—and that it was out on the lake the day Brady Laurie died,” Kelsey said. She sat perched on the table near Logan. Will had realized that Logan and Kelsey were a couple, but he also saw that it didn’t matter when they were working.
He lowered his head, distracted. In his own Krewe, Jackson Crow and Angela were together and, he thought, planning on marriage in the near future. He knew that with most agencies, teams were usually split up if members became romantically involved, but there was nothing usual about how they worked. Their offices were even separate—an experimental section of the FBI.
He gave himself a mental shake and returned his attention to the matter at hand.
“So Andy Simonton was out on the lake?” Kat said.
“There’s no certainty that Andy Simonton was the one out on his boat. All we know is that the dock master noted it was gone during the day. Andy keeps his little speedboat at a public dock, but the company’s salvage ship stays at their own wharf,” Kelsey explained.
“I was at Landry Salvage,” Jane said. “And they have two large salvage ships, kept at their own dock, and two smaller motorboats, both of which sleep six. However, they’re at a private dock, and the dockmaster there didn’t remember either of them being gone.”
“Simonton’s boat was on the lake,” Logan murmured, adding that notation to the board. He looked at Will. “I hear you’re something of a master magician,” Logan said.
“I’m a magician. Magic is tricks, of course, and sleight of hand,” Will responded.
