“But how?” Berat said. “It was booby-trapped.”
“We got out of there, didn’t we?” Riley said. “Obviously, the booby-traps were removed by the looters.”
Abigail studied Berat’s face to see if he would believe them.
Riley pushed on. “Still, it is a significant archeological find. We need to keep it safe. It would be terrible if the Temple of Artemis was removed and placed in a museum.”
“Yes, it’s a perfectly intact piece of architecture,” Abigail said. “It’s magnificent. If any archeological team found it, they could damage it in the excavation. Don’t forget, the Altar of Zeus at Pergamon is now in a museum in Berlin. Only the podium remains at Pergamum. I’d hate that happen to the Temple of Artemis.”
Berat appeared to be digesting their words. “Maybe the treasure your ancestors wanted you to guard was the ancient architecture itself,” Abigail added.
Berat shook his head vigorously. “No, it was the Croesus treasure. I’m certain of that.”
Abigail waved one hand at him in dismissal. “The treasure is long gone. Only the temple remains.”
“Look, you have a choice,” Riley told him. “Either we take you and throw you in prison where you will never see the light of day or…”
Berat interrupted him. “You can’t. What would you arrest me for? Illegally discharging explosives? I’d be out of prison in no time.”
Riley shook his head. “You won’t have a trial. You will be in a special prison, one provided by my government.”
“What my associate is trying to say but is putting in a nice way,” Ellis told him, “is either we shoot you now and leave you here for the vultures, or we imprison you for years, or you can go back to your home and continue to guard the whereabouts of the location.”
“What’s there to guard?” Berat spat.
Riley stepped forward. “If you feel that way, you can choose one of the first two options.”
Ellis held the gun against Berat’s head. “Why even give him options? He might talk. We don’t need him alive.”
“Yes, we do,” Riley countered. “If he goes missing, Vortex might make the connection between him and Eymen. They’re already aware of Murat’s connection. Obviously, his organization goes deeper than what he’s told us. It’s in our interests to protect them, as they will protect this site.”
“Who cares about the site?” Ellis said. “There’s no treasure.”
Abigail stepped forward. “I care about the site. It has massive archeological significance. It must be protected.”
A look of realization passed over Berat’s face. Abigail figured it finally occurred to him that Riley did not want Ellis to know about the treasure. In that instant, Abigail could see Berat now trusted Riley.
Berat nodded to Riley and winked at Abigail. “We have an understanding. Murat and our associates and I will continue to prevent anyone from finding the location. Do we need to hide from those agents?”
Riley shook his head. “I doubt it. I think they’re all in there.” He pointed to the ground.
Ellis pursed his lips. “You’re going to let him go?”
Riley shot him a quelling look. Ellis looked away, but not before he said, “Go on, Berat. Keep in front of me at all times. I’ll give your gun back to you when we reach your car.”
Riley helped Abigail over the rough going down the hill. She probably didn’t need his help, but she was grateful for it, nonetheless. They kept to the dubious cover of the sparse trees dotting the hillside, and kept a careful eye out for Vortex agents, despite the fact Riley doubted there were any survivors.
Abigail touched Riley’s arm and brought him to a standstill. “I don’t see any vehicles,” she said. She looked out over the plains where once, thousands of years ago, the lower city of Sardis had stood, housing the reed huts of the poor people who were living close to the rich gold deposits of the river. It was ironic, she thought.
He looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“The Vortex agents. How they many of them were there? There must have been at least one car.”
Riley pointed down by the banks of the Pactolus River.
It took Abigail a while to see it. The SUV was well camouflaged against the rocks. “I hope there’s no one in it,” she said.
“They were all inside the mountain when I blew up the entrance,” Berat told them in a matter-of-fact voice. “I watched you arrive, and saw them too. I was posing as a tourist with a telephoto lens on my camera. I knew you would turn up at Sardis sooner or later.”
There was merely a short rocky scramble and then they were down the hill. Riley lowered himself over the ledge and then signaled for Abigail to jump.
She did so, and landed hard in Riley’s arms. He kept his arms around her for longer than he should have, judging by Ellis’s dour expression.
“What now?” Abigail asked Riley when he finally released her.
“We go home.”
29
PENNSYLVANIA
Abigail walked back to her office. Her paper had been well received. Even the question time had gone well. Her part in the conference was over; now she could relax.
She unlocked her door, entered her office, and took off her shoes. She walked over to her desk, spun her chair so it swiveled a few times, and then put her feet up on the desk and wiggled her toes.
Abigail had loved being an academic, but now she’d had more than a little taste of excitement and adventure. And as terrified as she had been at the time, she already missed it.
And where was Riley? He had been conspicuous by his absence. Was she only going to see him on missions? The thought saddened her.
There was a knock on the door and Abigail at once took her feet off the desk. “Come in,” she called out.
To her dismay, in stepped Professor Harvey Hamilton, his face flushed. “Your paper went well.” He said it almost as an accusation.
Abigail shot him a bright smile. “Thank you.”
“I thought I would offer you my congratulations before I give my paper tonight.”
“I hope it goes well. Best of luck.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Thank you. So, after the conference is over tomorrow, all the faculty members are having dinner with the visiting academics.”
Abigail nodded. “That’s right. I haven’t forgotten.”
Hamilton gave a small nod and made to walk out, his hand resting on the door. “So you’re not going to dispute being part-time?”
“Dispute?” Abigail repeated.
He shot her an irritated look. “You’re not going to take it higher than the Dean?”
Abigail laughed. “No. I’m happy with part-time. It gives me time for my other interests.” Like relic hunting in exotic locations, she silently added.
“Oh yes. Baking and quilting with your Amish friends.”
“Something like that.”
Professor Hamilton nodded once more and shut the door.
Abigail put her feet back on the desk and laced her fingers behind her head. So that’s why Hamilton had come. It was out of character for him to congratulate her on her paper. Clearly, his purpose in coming was to ascertain whether she was going to contest the Dean’s decision. And why did he ask about tomorrow night’s dinner? Upon reflection, Abigail figured it was because he wanted to make sure she wasn’t having dinner with any of the visiting academics in person. Hamilton was quite competitive academically.
Abigail smiled to herself. He could ingratiate himself to as many visiting academics as he liked. She didn’t care about such things.
There was another knock on the door. Abigail wondered what Hamilton had forgotten. Once more, she removed her feet from her desk. “Come in,” she called again, steeling herself for another encounter.
To her shock, Riley was in the doorway. “Riley!” she exclaimed, standing up. “I didn’t expect to see you.” She tried not to look too pleased.
He walked inside and shut the door.
“Do we ha
ve another mission?”
Riley looked somewhat taken aback. “No. I came to ask you a question.”
Abigail’s spirits fell. He had come simply to ask her a question? It must be important. And for a moment she had thought he was there to see her. “What is it?
“After all your experiences in Turkey, do you still like Turkish delight?”
Abigail frowned hard. What sort of question was that? “Yes, I do,” she said hesitantly.
“And do you have any plans for tonight?”
She smiled at him. “That’s two questions.”
“I know a little Turkish restaurant not far from here,” Riley said, offering her his arm. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”
“That’s three questions,” Abigail said as she took Riley’s arm and accompanied him out the door.
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Next Book in This Series
Relic Hunters Taskforce - Book 2
Papyrus
Coming Soon
Goliath’s spear has allegedly come to light, and Abigail and Riley are sent to investigate. Before they arrive in Cairo, the spear goes missing.
Abigail and Riley must decipher the code in a three thousand year old Egyptian papyrus and avoid ruthless agents who will do anything to stop the secrets of the spear being revealed.
Other Thrillers and Mysteries by Ruth Hartzler
Relic Hunters Taskforce series.
1. Scroll
2. Papyrus
More coming soon.
Cozy Mysteries
#1 Best-Selling Cozy Mystery series, An Amish Cupcake Cozy Mystery Series, by Ruth Hartzler.
(Not available on all retailers)
True Confections (Book 1)
When her husband of thirty years runs off with a college student named Cherri, Jane Delight returns to Pennsylvania to work in her Amish sister's cupcake store. Having lost everything in the divorce, Jane now finds herself sharing an apartment with two elderly ladies and their quirky cat.
But there is no time to despair. A man is murdered in the cupcake store, and now Jane and her sister, Rebecca, are the prime suspects. Enter brooding detective Damon McCloud, a Scot with a tragic past and a desire for justice.
Can Jane solve the murder, wrangle her new roommates, and stop herself from falling for the detective?
Or will she never get her new life on track?
Series by Ruth Hartzler.
Cozy Mysteries
Amish Cupcake Cozy Mysteries.
1. True Confections
2. Previous Confections
3. Confection is Good for the Soul
4. Speak with Confection
5. An Instant Confection
All Ruth’s books are available in paperback and also in Large Print paperback.
About Ruth Hartzler
USA Today best-selling author Ruth Hartzler spends her days writing, walking her dog, and thinking of ways to murder somebody. That's because Ruth writes cozy mysteries and thrillers.
She is best known for her archeological thrillers, for which she relies upon her former career as a college professor of ancient languages and Biblical history.
www.ruthhartzler.com
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