by Louise Clark
He nodded. No surprise there. It was nine in the morning and the day was already hot. She’d want to get as much done before the afternoon heat made time spent down in the rift a sweltering nightmare.
She gave him another fraught smile as she turned away. On impulse, he caught her arm. She stopped and looked back at him, wide-eyed.
“Is anything wrong?” he asked. It was a struggle to keep his voice even, as if he was just asking a casual question. He was congratulating himself on his professionalism when she frowned and looked down at his hand on her arm.
He let go, hastily. So much for being cool about it.
She smiled again and almost deliberately relaxed. “No. I’m fine. Thanks for asking, though.”
So polite. The smile might have worked if he hadn’t been watching her eyes. That shadow was still there, marring their vivid blue depths. Something was wrong. But what? He’d bet it had something to do with Scarr or Zac Doyle. The thought made his temper flare. She deserved better.
On her way to the tent, Josh Sheen, his computer wizard, greeted her with a shyness Mike hadn’t seen before on the gregarious eighteen-year-old. Concern nibbled at the edge of his managerial self. He’d been eighteen once, too, too many years ago, but he could still remember how it felt to be awed by a beautiful older woman. Liz Hamilton was certainly beautiful and for Josh she was older, though to Mike she was just the perfect age.
Josh, though. If he did indeed have a crush on her, that could be a problem. He didn’t want his team upset by emotional tangles caused by the new girl in camp. He headed over to intercede.
He didn’t have a chance. Will Lavery, his chief of paleontology research, sauntered over to introduce himself.
Before that could happen Mike heard Josh say, “The camera will focus on Mike’s part of the excavation, of course, but I used a wide enough angle that your dig will be visible.” He grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you look good on camera.”
Liz had let go of her suitcase handle. Now she slid the backpack off her shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. I’m really interested in how the live streaming will document the dig. I’d like to talk to you about it, maybe tonight after we’ve quit for the day.”
Josh’s face fell. “I don’t live at the camp. I set up the camera here, but I monitor it from the office in town.”
Liz smiled easily. “Then I’ll make my schedule work with yours. If you have a chance to give me a run down before you leave for the day, shout. I’d appreciate it.”
Josh’s eyes brightened and his chest swelled. “You bet!”
Mike felt an absurd flash of pleasure at how she’d handled the smitten teen. Respectfully, as an equal. It showed a side of her that he liked. A lot.
He reached the little group as she turned to Will and said, “Hi, I’m Liz Hamilton.” She held out her hand.
Will took it. “Will Lavery. I run Mike’s dig sites and his lab once the season is over.”
“Nice to meet you, Will.” Her smile was friendly and seemed genuine.
Will shot a look Mike’s way, then he said casually, “Alfred Scarr was one of my profs at the master’s level. I was glad he wasn’t my thesis supervisor. He had a reputation of…interfering… in his Ph.D. students’ study plans.”
Mike knew why Will had brought up his degree work. He was letting Liz know that the Discovering Dinos team was professional and, unlike Scarr’s assumptions, part of the community. He waited, curious to see Liz’s reaction.
She raised a brow and said, “You worked with Scarr for your master’s. Where did you go for your Ph.D.?”
Will’s degree came from one of the top schools in the field. Liz tilted her head, her expression impressed. She smiled in that easy, friendly manner she’d used with Josh and said, “Since you run the site, I assume you’re staying here at the camp.”
“His tent is the other side of the admin tent,” Mike said, drawing her eyes with his comment.
She nodded to them both. “Good, then we’ll be able to talk this evening.” She picked up the backpack by one of the straps and took a firm grip on the handle of the suitcase. “For now, I need to get to work. Nice to meet you, Josh, Will.” She headed off to her tent, the suitcase bouncing and tipping behind her.
With the main attraction gone, Josh drifted away to the admin tent to work on some equipment. Will slid a look Mike’s way. “Alfred Scarr is competitive, demanding, and ruthless about getting ahead. I wouldn’t put it past him to deliberately insert a spy into our camp.”
Mike stared at the open flap of the tent he’d assigned Liz. He could see her moving about inside. “I don’t read her as being willing to cave into pressure like that.” Then he shrugged. “But you may be right. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Why did that make him feel so very pleased?
Will turned toward the admin tent and started walking. After casting one last look at Liz’s tent, Mike went along with him.
“I hated Scarr,” Will muttered. “He was everything I disliked about the formal academic system. He was never around unless he wanted to pick your brain, or get you to write a paper for him. I couldn’t wait to leave his program.” He paused outside the tent. His mouth twisted. “Zac Doyle is supposed to be some kind of super hotshot, but from what I’ve seen so far, he doesn’t do much.”
“Guys like Scarr and Doyle are bottom feeders,” Mike said. “Cheer up. Think how pissed they are that we have half of their find of a lifetime.”
Will brightened. “It is, isn’t it?” His eyes gleamed. “I think we’ve got a predator.”
A smile slowly curled Mike’s mouth. “No argument here. That femur and the muscular neck tell the tale. Theropod, no doubt. Now we just have to find out exactly which one it is.”
“Look for the head.” Will sighed. “It’s probably on Scarr’s side.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Mike’s smile widened into a grin. “Wouldn’t it be fun if it was on ours?”
Will laughed. “Bonus.”
No, Mike thought. Having Liz Hamilton living in his camp, a potential spy, someone he needed to keep a close eye on.
Now that was bonus.
Chapter 13
Dusk drifted into the velvety darkness of a prairie night. The members of the Discovering Dino dig team and Liz gathered together in front of a campfire and talked. About the day, what they’d found, what they were expecting for the next day, about themselves. They were unwinding after a long, hot day in the sun and there was a sense of mellowness among them.
It was a very different atmosphere than the one Liz had learned to expect at Scarr’s camp. There people broke up after dinner was over and the dishes washed and put away. A few worked in the lab tent, but most retired to their own tents. This friendly atmosphere that surrounded her now was as much a surprise to Liz as the quality of the team Mike Edmonds had put together.
His dig supervisor, Will, had a Ph.D. from a top school. The two summer students who worked with Will were also at top schools. That Mike was able to assemble such a well-qualified team was surprising, given the animosity Scarr—and, she assumed—other academic paleontologists had toward Mike and his business-oriented excavations.
Though she didn’t express her surprise, Will caught on to it. Mike had moved away to deal with an email as they had Internet, thanks to the enterprising Josh. Will nodded his head in Mike’s direction and said, “You wonder why I work for him and not an academic like Scarr.”
Liz shrugged and said with a laugh that had an edge of bitterness she couldn’t quite contain, “No one would want to work for Scarr if they didn’t have to.”
Will laughed too. The two students listened silently. “There are other paleontologists. Most of them aren’t as self-serving as Scarr is.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” As she moved through the various academic levels on her quest for her Ph.D., Liz had worked on other digs, in increasing levels of responsibility. As an undergrad, she’d simply dug where ordered and learned her craft. As a masters’ student
, she also dug, but she’d explored too, and worked in the site lab tent. Once she was at the Ph.D. level, she worked more closely with the dig’s organizer and she’d had her name included in the dig reports. She worked, she achieved, she moved on.
She was proud of her accomplishments, but she was very aware that she wasn’t the kind of splashy, spectacular person Zac Doyle was. Liz did her work, she didn’t talk it up. As far as she knew, Zac worked hard at his craft too, but he was one of those people who excelled at making sure that everyone in the paleo community knew about his accomplishments, and that they realized this his were somehow more important than anyone else’s.
There was quiet around the campfire for a minute. Liz looked over, past the flickering fire, to the shadows where Mike was still on his phone. She looked back at Will. “Why did you choose to work for Discovering Dinos?”
He prodded the fire with an iron poker that had come from town, like the wood burning in the firepit. There was not enough vegetation in this dry, dusty badland to supply wood for burning. “Why did I opt to work for a dino pirate like Mike, you mean?”
She flushed and hoped that no one would notice in the flickering light. “No. Why choose a private organization rather than a museum or a university?”
Will took a while to consider that. “The easy answer is that Mike had an opening and I needed a job.” He shrugged. “That’s part of it.” He poked the fire again, his eyes on the flames. “The other part. Well, the other part was that I discovered I wasn’t suited to the cut and thrust of academic life. I’m not particularly competitive. I love puttering around in my lab, cleaning bones, looking for clues about the animal’s life. I like writing up what I find and knowing I can pass on my knowledge that way. I don’t want to teach undergrad classes, or mentor grad students. Or go to conferences where I have to present papers to impress my peers so I can get ahead in my department.” He shrugged. “Mike lets me do what I want to do.”
“But he’ll sell the bones you dig up.”
“Will he?”
Liz frowned. “Doesn’t he?”
“At times,” Will said. “Discovering Dinos is a business. All of our digs are privately funded, either through the company or through investors.”
Liz raised her brows. “I think you’re proving my position.”
Will shook his head. “How is Scarr’s dig funded?”
“A grant from the university provides the base, but there are quite a number of smaller grants that top up the funds.”
“From where?”
She frowned, thinking. “The second largest funding comes from a museum. Then there are several grants from private charities and donors.”
“And they all want their piece of the pie,” Will said softly.
She stared at him.
“Think about it,” he said. “Say Scarr strikes it big on his dig here, the university gets its name mentioned in the news reports of a new dino find. They’re also mentioned prominently in any papers that result from the find. The museum gets the bones. If our shared dino is a new species they will be able to display the only one on record in their museum. And then there are the private donors. They are also mentioned in the papers that are published and may have their names listed at the museum, along with the university’s. Name recognition brings in more funding for the university and the private charities.”
“The bones will stay here, in the United States,” Liz said, a little desperately.
Will shrugged. “Who says they’ll go out of the country under Mike’s watch?” When Liz didn’t immediately respond, he added impatiently, “All I’m saying is that no one is altruistic and the academic digs are doing it for the same reasons Mike is.”
“And what’s that?” She was rewarded by a long, well duh, look from Will.
But it was Mike who replied. “I’m fascinated by dinosaurs.”
Nicely done, Liz! She felt herself go hot all over. Still, she didn’t regret the conversation. And it was better that Mike should be part of it, rather than just being defended by his deputy.
Will shot Mike a glance, then grinned. “She has a somewhat…distorted view of what we do.”
“Not surprising, considering,” Mike said. He resumed his position by the fire, on the other side of Will, beside one of the summer students, who were taking in the conversation with wide eyes and closed mouths.
“So enlighten me,” she said.
Will laughed at that and stood up. “I’m ready to head in. I had an early start today and I want to make another tomorrow. Good night.”
The students decided it was a good time for them to slip away as well, leaving Mike and Liz in the darkness, lit by the stars above and the leaping light from the fire. For a time they sat silently, the only sound the crackle of the burning wood.
“What do you know about Discovering Dinos?” Mike asked finally.
Liz leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, as she stared at the fire. “Not much. I’d never heard of you until I ended up on Scarr’s dig.”
Mike poked at the fire, as Will had done earlier. “Did Scarr tell you that I sell the bones I find to the highest bidder?”
She nodded. “Usually dilatant billionaires from the third world.”
“Hmmm. And did he tell you I’m destroying priceless evidence every time I dig, because I don’t have the proper education?”
“Constantly.” She was watching his face now, her attention completely caught. A smile flickered on the edge of his lips, but she wasn’t sure if it was bitter, amused, or rueful. Perhaps it was a combination of all those emotions.
“I suppose he says my company is crass, commercial and making a fortune off of what should be a pure academic endeavor.”
“Your dino tourism program,” Liz said. “Yeah, he has mentioned it.”
Mike laughed. Liz realized that the smile was amused, not bitter, because his laugh was clear of any darker emotions. “Those two who slipped away before our discussion turned into an argument—Justin and Maggy? They started coming to the Discovering Dino summer digs ten years ago, when I was just getting started. At first they came with their parents, but when they were older they came on their own. They’re both in university now and they both plan to become paleontologists. And they’ll succeed too, because they know what it takes to be a paleontologist. More importantly, they know what it means. The rough digging conditions, the long hours of backbreaking work. The nitpicky work in the lab. There’s no romance in why they’ve chosen this career. Their eyes are open and they’re prepared.”
“You’re saying you’re a teacher as much as a prof in a university lecture hall is.”
He cast her an approving grin. “Yeah. I’m hands on. I teach the basics, but I also instill a love for the craft, not just the technical details.”
“There’s no apology in your voice.”
He raised his brows. “Should there be?”
She thought about that, then shook her head. “No, I suppose not. For selling bones to billionaires, maybe.”
He made a derisive sound. “So the femur of a hadrosaur gets locked up in a case in some rich guy’s mansion and he shows it off to all his friends to impress them. Is that any worse than the femur being put in a box and stored away in the basement of a museum, because the museum already has dozens of hadrosaur femurs? To be brought out once a year or three, if that, when a researcher decides they want to take a look at it?”
Put that way, he had a point. Liz laughed. “You’re good at identifying the flaws in the system.”
He shrugged. “I’m outside the system, so I see it differently.”
“Nice of you not to say ‘more clearly,’” Liz said, keeping her tone light.
Mike flashed her an amused smile. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking it.”
She laughed again. “With that, I think it’s time I turned in as well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” he murmured as she stood up.
She headed off. When she reached her tent, sh
e looked back. He poked at the fire, spreading the embers, relaxed, a man comfortable in the world he had created for himself.
Something twisted in her stomach and she thought how very attractive that was.
Mike prodded the logs still producing a bright flame in the darkness. It was over a quarter of an hour since Liz had disappeared into her tent. She’d extinguished her light a couple of minutes ago and, except for the flames in the firepit, the camp was in darkness. He was alone with his thoughts.
That was fine with him. Though he enjoyed being around people and he liked the atmosphere of a camp on the open prairie, he found that he needed quiet at the end of the evening to recharge and think thorough the problems thrown his way during the day. Tonight his big problem was Liz Hamilton and his feelings for her.
When he’d met Liz Hamilton she’d been a woman in jeopardy. His mouth turned up into a wry smile as he thought the hokey words. As clichéd as the statement was, it provided a pretty good description of her situation. She’d been out on the prairie, in the open, with a major storm on the way, and no shelter in sight. He had stopped to help, because he would have stopped for anyone in the same situation. What happened after that had been a surprise. The instant attraction that caught him by the throat when he’d first saw her face, an attraction that didn’t dissipate even when he learned who she was.
That attraction was still there and he fought it every time he was near her. During the day he hid behind his sunglasses and hoped she wasn’t aware that he watched her more often than he should. When he invited her to move into the camp he told himself it was so he could keep an eye on her—and that was still true—but he also liked the idea of being with her outside of work.
A log crackled and shifted. He pushed it back to the center of the fire. Flames caught a fresh portion and blazed high. Tonight when he’d come back from dealing with Harvey Earnshaw’s email about the contract negotiations, his damned ego had leapt when he realized that she and Will were talking about him. He liked that she was interested in him, that she was digging for information about him. He’d given her another nugget, let her see part of himself, before she retired for the night. He could have supplied more—all the details about how he’d formed Discovering Dinos, why he hadn’t gone on to grad school after he completed his undergrad. But he held back. He wanted her to open up to him as well, and monopolizing their conversations wasn’t going to do it.