Heather Graham (32 page)

Dan. Polite, solicitous. Cool.

The distant way he had looked at her all day made her wonder if they had ever been anything more than remote acquaintances.

She could see him clearly by the firelight before their tent. His dark head was bent over one of her books; occasionally he glanced up, his rugged features a study in concentration, to listen to something Ali or Raj was saying.

The five tribesmen of Ali’s oasis who had accompanied them to Egypt were relaxing with the Theban workers. She could hear laughter from the group in front of one of the other sprawling tents. Altogether their party numbered fifteen. She was the only woman, but she had never felt more safe in her life. Ali had seen that she rested on a little pedestal where the men were concerned; Alex was warmed by his concern. If all else proved to be devastation from delving into the past, at least she would always be able to say that one good thing had happened—she had acquired Ali Sur Sheriff as a friend.

And Dan had been her friend. No, more than her friend. Her lover, a perfect mate for her tempestuous soul. There had been a time when they had laughed and challenged and gambled. Two adventurers, reckless, impetuous, willing to cast everything on a long shot.

It can’t really be over, she thought. We’re perfect for one another, if he would only realize it. … Perfect. The night in Ali’s palace, the week in Cairo, high above the city, swept away to the heights of the clouds as the pyramids soared with them in the moonlit background.

Alex smiled faintly as she suddenly heard the refrain of modern music. Rajman was playing his tape recorder. The refrains of “Hang On, Sloopy” were ricocheting through the ancient Theban hills. It didn’t matter. The music might be enough to wake the dead, but Alex had the strange feeling that no remaining mummified forms were going to stalk the cliffs.

She tensed as she suddenly heard the rustle of brush behind her. She wasn’t more than a hundred yards from the camp; in the forlorn sanctity of this empty valley, even Ali and Dan had felt safe about allowing her to do a bit of wandering. It would be almost impossible for a man to sneak up on them.

But Alex had heard a noise. She spun around, her eyes attempting to pierce the darkness. “Who’s there?” she demanded.

The noise came again, and with it a form out of the darkness. A small form, scampering toward Alex.

Alex poised to run, but before her legs could spring into action, she heard a softly phrased and accented “Please!”

Something made her stop curiously, her heart thudding. She stood perfectly still and waited as the small form approached her.

It was a woman—a petite, exceptionally beautiful Egyptian woman. Even in the moon and firelight, her eyes were green, her features smoothly chiseled, her face an alabaster mask.

“You are Alex?” the woman whispered, reaching into her dark linen robe.

“Yes,” Alex murmured, watching the woman with a frown of confusion. Where had she come from? The village of Qurna?

“Here—please, you will take this.”

Alex automatically reached for the offered package. It was wrapped in newspaper, but before she could open it, the woman turned to speed away.

“Wait!” Alex called. “Please, wait! What is this? Who are you?” She started to follow the Egyptian, but the petite beauty was as swift and sure on the jagged terrain as a gazelle. In seconds Alex had lost her in the darkness.

“Alex!”

She stopped as she heard Dan’s thundering growl and the fall of his footsteps behind her. She had lost the woman, anyway.

“What are you doing, running off like this? I know you’re the Egyptologist, but the snakes and scorpions and mosquitoes don’t care a hell of a lot about knowledgeable degrees—”

“I’m not running off,” Alex interrupted, exasperated with the sardonic quality of his voice. Ali came up behind Dan, and Alex smiled weakly at him. “I just received a mystery present.”

“From whom?” Ali demanded.

“A woman … an Egyptian, I believe. I don’t know. I was just standing there—there by that rock—and she walked up to me and handed me this.” Alex stretched out her hand with the newspaper-wrapped bundle.

Dan’s fingers gripped her upper arm firmly. “Let’s take it over to the fire.”

Seconds later the three of them were seated as she carefully undid the wrappings. When the paper was cleared from the small statuette, Alex emitted a stunned gasp.

It was about twelve inches high and solid gold—a pharaoh, standing with his staff and sepulcher. He wore a banded crown upon his head with tiny precious inlays of lapis lazuli to denote the vulture and the cobra—the insignia of Lower and Upper Egypt combined beneath one ruler. And at the base of the statuette were tiny hieratics. Alex strained against the darkness to read them.

“Is it real?” Ali demanded.

Dan nodded before Alex could answer. “It’s real gold, all right.”

“It’s Anelokep!” Alex breathed with thundering excitement stealing her voice. “It’s a piece that should have come from his tomb … See, there’s his name, and his royal cartouche.”

Although neither Dan nor Ali could read the symbols, they both politely stared as she pointed at the writing so painfully, so delicately, carved. Alex momentarily forgot the distance that had risen between her and Dan as she struggled for breath and coherency to speak again. “And there’s mention of the queens here again—see—Hatshepshut! And here are the symbols for the two lesser queens I noticed the other day. This signifies god king—or dead king! This has to be from his tomb! Someone has found it!”

“Alex,” Dan said quietly. “Tell us about the woman who gave it to you. Slowly. Say anything you can think of.”

She took a deep breath, unable to take her eyes off the small statue. “I told you, I was just standing there, and then I heard a noise. I was about to start running, but she called my name—”

“How?” Dan interrupted.

“Alex. She called me Alex.”

“Strange,” Ali muttered. “What did she look like?”

“She was, uh—very pretty. About … I don’t know, not terribly young. Not a child, at any rate. She was somewhere between my age and thirty-five, maybe. She was very petite, and her eyes were a beautiful green.” Alex lifted her hands helplessly as she struggled for a better description. “She was … unique. Almost like a china doll.”

Dan was looking at Ali. “She must have come from Qurna.”

“Shall we take a ride?”

“Might as well. The villagers won’t be friendly, but at least we speak their language.”

“Wait a minute,” Alex protested. “You’re going to go into Qurna? Now?”

“If we’re going to find her,” Dan said dryly, “now seems to be the time.”

“Then I’m going with you.” Alex said stubbornly.

“No you’re not,” Dan said. “You’re going to bed. Things are starting to get hot.”

“You won’t be able to find her without me,” Alex protested. “And the statuette was given to me! If she sees me, she may talk; if she sees the two of you, she’ll probably run away again.”

Dan stood and planted his hands in his pockets. Alex recognized the determined sparkle of jet in his eyes. “You’re not going, Alex. It’s unlikely that we’ll find this mystery woman of yours. She could find shelter in dozens of homes, and Qurna still harbors bands of murderers, rapists and thieves. Night isn’t the best time for an American woman to be prowling around. You’re going to bed.”

He turned around and strode smoothly toward the single jeep they had brought across the Nile. Alex compressed her lips furiously, ready to start after him. Ali caught her arm.

“He’s right, Alex, Qurna could be dangerous for you. And Dan is worried about Haman and—” Alex glanced sharply at Ali, and he cut off whatever he had been about to say and started over. “Alex, don’t forget that there has to be a reason for your father’s disappearance. In camp you’re protected.”

“But Ali,” Alex protested, trying to free her arm. “This is the first real clue we’ve had! We’re so close. Ali, James Crosby is my father! Please.”

Ali drew in a deep breath, and Alex was reminded that she faced not only one of the most wealthy and powerful men in the world but a Muslim sheikh—a man accustomed to being obeyed by women. He certainly wasn’t going to help her defy Dan.

“Alex, Dan has told you where you will be safest. He is concerned for your welfare. You will obey him.”

Ali released her, then turned to follow Dan. He yelled out a few orders in Arabic as he joined Dan in the jeep.

Alex noted that as the jeep drove away, Ahman and another of Ali’s men wandered nearer the tent. Guard dogs again, she thought with a sigh. She was being left, and that was that. Law decreed by Daniel D’Alesio. She gritted her teeth and irritably entered her tent, ducking beneath the canvas A-frame. Damn Dan and damn Ali! She imagined a scene in which she had them both buried up to their necks in sand. And then she sat on her cot and started shaking. She shared the tent with Dan—naturally. But he would be sleeping feet away on his own narrow cot. And suddenly she needed intimacy with him more than she ever had before; they were so close to—to something. And she was terrified. What would they find? She needed Dan—his strength, his comfort. She wanted to shake him because she was so angry at having been left, but more than anything she wanted to crawl to him and beg that he be with her when the puzzle was unraveled.

Alex took her boots off and lay back on her cot. Ali had mentioned Haman. Did he think his old enemy was behind her father’s disappearance? Who else? And why else would Haman have followed them to Egypt? He had sent Zaid after her the other night.

Chills began to race down her spine. She was guarded by a dozen men, but she was suddenly aware of the vastness of the graveyard in which they had camped. They hadn’t seen Haman all day. In fact, he had done nothing but follow them, and Zaid had been no more guilty of accosting her than Wayne had been.

What a fiasco. Poor Wayne. He wanted in on some great discovery so badly.

But she couldn’t dwell on Wayne; she had to worry about Haman. But he hadn’t been around the Valley of the Kings today.

Thoughts kept revolving in Alex’s mind. Haman. Wayne. Floor plans for royal tombs. Dan. She wanted him to come back so badly; she just wanted to know that he was in the tent. She would never sleep without him there, even if her only comfort was hearing him breathe.

But she did sleep. Her next coherent thought was that it was amazing how brightly the sun could shine through canvas.

Dan knicked his chin as he saw Alex emerge from the tent. He scowled, staring into the mirror he had braced on a travel pole. The tiny knick bled as if he had hit a main artery. His eyes suddenly met hers in the mirror and narrowed slightly.

He remembered the first time he had seen her in his bathroom, how he had thought her nothing but a powder puff in her sleek and elegant beige suit with matching hat.

On the expedition she dressed practically: khaki trousers, short-sleeved beige blouse, hair neatly caught at her nape in a simple elastic band. And yet she wore her practical clothing with as much flair as she did a business suit, a silken harem outfit, a chic black cocktail gown. So much a woman. Capable of roughing it with no frills when the occasion warranted; enjoying all that was feminine when she could.

He lowered his eyes for a moment as he rinsed his razor in the small plastic container attached to the pole beneath the mirror. She was approaching him, her hands casually stuffed in the pockets of the khaki pants. He met her eyes again as he swiped more carefully at the shaving cream still on his left cheek.

“Well?” she demanded.

Dan noticed slight violet smudges beneath the unearthly sweep of her long, dark lashes. She looked a little pale too, he thought. The strain of worrying about her father was taking its toll, he felt, wishing desperately that he had a few sure answers to give her.

“Well what?” he queried.

“Did you find her?”

Dan dipped his face to rinse it in the water. He groped for the towel he had draped on a nearby fold-up chair. The towel was suddenly stuffed into his hands. He dried his face and studied her eyes as he draped the towel over his bare shoulders.

“Yes and no.”

“Damnit, Dan, what does that mean?”

“Get a cup of coffee, will you?” he retorted, irritated with her tone. He knew what was coming: a spiel on how they might have found and held the woman if she had been along. “You can be a real shrew first thing in the morning.”

He walked past her to the fire in front of the main tent. Rajman, proud of his expertise with frying eggs over the open fire, grinned up at him. “Breakfast in five minutes, Mr. Dan.”

Alex had apparently stalked him, because she suddenly crashed into his back.

“Give Alex some coffee first, will you, Raj?”

“Certainly, certainly.”

“Dan!” Alex demanded, pushing away from him and nodding her thanks to Raj as he handed her a cup of coffee.

“All right, Alex; we saw her. But we lost her.”

“Oh, Dan!” Alex exclaimed with disgust. “I told you—”

“It wasn’t Dan’s fault.” Ali made his quiet announcement, appearing suddenly beside Dan. “No matter what, we couldn’t have brought you. Haman has taken up headquarters on the outskirts of Qurna and—”

“Ali,” Alex protested. “I’m supposed to be bait! How are we going to draw anyone out if I’m not—”

“Alex,” Ali said softly. “Bait is one thing. We don’t want to hand you right over to whoever is behind all this. Especially since we’ve announced that you know where the tomb is. Someone just might be willing to kill for that kind of information.”

“That’s right,” Alex murmured defiantly. “And whoever this is may be holding my father, and that woman might have led us to him.”

“Alex, I have a strange feeling the woman will try to find us—or you—again,” Dan told her. “I told you, we did find her last night. She was right in the middle of the street.”

“Watching Dan very studiously,” Ali said.

“But when we started toward her, she disappeared into one of the alleys. And you know how the homes in that place wind through the hillside. I chased her, but she disappeared.”

“But,” Ali interrupted again, “I don’t think she was running from Dan or me but from whoever might have been behind us. That’s why I say she’ll find us again.” Ali suddenly laughed, dipping to accept a cup of coffee from Raj, who listened to the entire interchange with eyes flashing his excitement.