“How long have you been there?” he wanted to know.
I took a bite. “A little over three years.”
Connor took a drink. I wondered what he was thinking. Then he asked, “Think you’ll want dessert?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want it, but I’m not sure I should have it.”
He looked at me oddly for a moment. “Are you always in the habit of denying yourself the things you really want?” he asked with an easy smile.
“I’m used to deprivation,” I said, taking a bite. “I live on excavation sites.”
“Do you ever miss not having a normal life?” he wanted to know. He took his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one.
“I have my moments,” I confessed, “especially when I start thinking about things like family holidays, vacations, having kids—but I love my work, in spite of the obvious disadvantages. It’s hot, dirty work in remote locations, living in cultures vastly different from our own. It’s extreme climates, often primitive living conditions, and all too often, spiders, scorpions and snakes.”
“Sounds charming.”
I watched him with curiosity. “It’s not for everybody.”
“You mention regret at not having had children,” he said, plucking an errant piece of crust from his shirt. “Another of those things you wanted but denied yourself—or was it beyond your control?”
I frowned. “My only real regret,” I admitted. “I’m forty now and I’ve been divorced for almost fourteen years. A biological child is not in the cards at this point. I’ve accepted that. I'm considering adoption—older kids, kids who could more easily adapt to my rather atypical lifestyle.”
“It’s not uncommon for a woman to have a child at forty or later these days,” he pointed out. “And it was never all that rare for a single woman to have a baby. My mum wasn’t married when she gave birth to me. The husband came later.”
The waiter interrupted us, bringing Connor the coffee he’d ordered. I was grateful for the interruption. “Takes a bit of getting used to,” he commented after tasting it.
“You can always get western coffee here,” I said, “but if you order the Arab version, be forewarned, it comes in three degrees of sweetness: no sugar, just right, and sukkar ziyaada, which comes with a year’s sugar cane harvest in every cup.”
He grimaced. “Sounds delightful.”
“It could put a diabetic in a coma, Merlin.”
“Merlin?” He laughed at that.
“It fits,” I said, taking another bite. “You seem to be something of a wizard.”
“How so?”
“You got me funding I’d been unable to find no matter how much I’d begged. You managed to get on my flight at the last minute, and got us upgraded to first class,” I recalled. “We didn’t have to share a taxi from the airport after your little chat with the driver—who actually took our bags from the trunk and carried them into the hotel for us. Normally, I’m lucky if the taxi stays at the curb long enough to let me remove them myself. You bribed them, right?”
“I’m not going to tell you,” he answered. “I prefer to make myself indispensable to you.”
“You’ve already done that.”
Connor only smiled.
“Last chance to bail out before we enter no man’s land,” I half-joked when we returned to the hotel that night. I fished my room key from my pocket.
He took the key from me and leaned past me to unlock the door. “I’ll check your room, make sure it’s safe,” he insisted.
“You don’t have to—” But before I could finish, he was in the room, checking the closet and bathroom.
“Everything seems to be secure,” he said, depositing the key in my hand.
“Thanks—and good night,” I said. “I would say don’t let the bedbugs bite, but given the size of the bugs in this place, I doubt they’ll bother with biting. They’ll probably just move you to another location to eat you.”
He laughed. “They might, at that.”
I turned to put the key on the dresser. When I turned back, Connor’s face was only a few inches from mine. I took a step back. “I just need room to maneuver in case I have to shove my knee into your groin,” I said.
“I’ll take my chances.” With his fingertips, he raised my face to his. He nuzzled my mouth lazily, then kissed me. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here alone?” he whispered in my ear, his lips lightly tugging on my earlobe. “I could stay—”
“No,” I said quickly, nervously. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
“That would depend upon your definition of trouble, I think.” He released me and walked out, not looking back.
If records are being kept for this sort of thing, we must have broken several here tonight, I thought as I locked the door behind him. The ink’s not even dry on the check, and already he’s hitting on me.
Yep, he’s definitely going to be trouble.
7
Connor
I was still wide awake at three a.m. I tried to tell myself it was simply a matter of the time difference between London and Cairo, that my body was still on London time, but I knew that wasn’t the case at all. I stood at the window, staring into the night. I wasn’t alone. I was never alone. There were the voices, and they never left me, always there, always trying to control me. They'd been with me since childhood, for as long as I could remember. Some good, some evil, always warring for control.
Feeling the need to relax, I reached for my cigarettes. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what?”
“You knew about the explosives that girl was carrying. You know what’s going to happen.”
“Of course. It was my idea. Brilliant, don’t you think?”
“Brilliant?” I asked. “Two hundred people are going to die!”
“You could always warn them.”
“And they’d arrest me,” I predicted. “Is that your idea as well?”
“We all have choices to make. Your freedom or the lives of those people you don’t even know. What’s it going to be?”
“You know bloody well I can’t come out of hiding!”
“I didn’t think you’d be so noble. You’d never risk your life, your freedom for anyone….”
An airliner en route to New York City from Cairo went down over the Atlantic Ocean less than ten miles from JFK International Airport. Reports from ships in the area at the time indicated an explosion had taken place aboard the aircraft. Coast Guard ships searching the debris field held out little hope that any of the twelve crewmembers or one hundred eighty-eight passengers could have survived. According to worldwide media reports, Al Qaeda was taking credit for the disaster.
I hadn't been hallucinating, as Edward had suggested.
8
Connor
Traveling from Cairo to the Sinai was like arriving on another planet. It was the most barren place on earth, desolate, much like photographs I had seen of the surface of Mars. The first thing I noticed about the desert was the brilliant white light that seemed to bleach out the horizon as it bounced off the quartz in the sand. Bushes bent in the wind as it blew across the ground. As far as I could see there was only barrenness: rocks, sand and mountains. As we traveled further into the interior, the only signs of life I could detect were the occasional black tents of the Bedouin camps amid jagged rocks, drifting sand and a wind-scoured landscape that seemed to stretch on forever.
No one would be looking for me there. I knew that with certainty.
It was a five-hour drive from Cairo to Taba, and by the time we arrived, it was late evening. I was fighting off sleep. I hadn’t slept the night before, and I wanted nothing more than a shower and a soft bed.
Lynne’s home was larger than I had expected. There were three bedrooms. One had been converted into a small office. The only furnishings in the room were a long table and two standard office chairs. There were two computers, a printer and a scanner/fax on the table. The phone and internet service w
as obtained via satellite. Stacks of books lined one wall, and the open closet held miscellaneous equipment.
“And this is your room,” she was saying. I turned. The door across the hall was open. It was small, simply furnished, and looked reasonably comfortable. “Your bathroom’s through that door,” Lynne said, pointing to the closed door on the other side of the bed. “There are towels and sheets in the linen closet, and we send someone into town a couple of times a week, so if there’s anything you need, just make a list.”
I put my bags down next to the bed. “It seems almost civilized,” I observed.
She laughed, leaning against the door frame. “The bakery in town is decent. So are the restaurants. There's a bank, a post office, even a small hospital. We get most of what we need here, but we still have to go all the way to Cairo a couple of times a month.”
I unzipped my garment bag and started hanging clothes in the closet. “Tell me about the excavation site,” I urged.
“We do have a trailer there—sometimes I or Tim will stay overnight.” She paused, a look of concern on her face. “This has been an expensive project, I’m afraid. Had you not come along with your very generous offer, we’d be closing up shop and heading back to the States in another few weeks.”
“Glad I could be of service.” I opened the bureau’s top drawer and started to unpack my bags.
“You must be tired,” she said then, glancing at her watch. “I’ll leave you to settle in. If you’re hungry, I can make some sandwiches.”
I shook my head. “I think I’d just like to get some sleep,” I said. “Didn’t get much last night, and it’s catching up with me. I’m afraid I’m still on London time.”
She nodded. “See you in the morning, then.” She started to walk away, then came back to the doorway. “Anything in particular you’d like for breakfast?”
I gave her a dismissive wave. “I don’t expect you to look after me.”
“I’m going to be cooking anyway,” she said. “Besides, I’m guessing you’ve never set foot in a kitchen.”
“As it happens, I have had occasion to learn to cook,” I said, amused by her assumption. “My stepfather has servants. I’ve never had any myself. I dislike having employees in my home. And since we’re already on the subject, I thought we might share household responsibilities as long as we’re going to be roommates.”
Lynne looked unconvinced. “This should be interesting.” She stifled a yawn. “Good night, Merlin.”
I smiled. “You too.”
I waited until I heard her go into her own bedroom and close the door. Then I retrieved a small leather zippered case from the bottom of the carry-on. I glanced toward the door before I opened it and took out two prescription bottles. I paused again, listening. I could hear her shower running. Satisfied she would not be coming back, I took a pill from each bottle, then went into the bathroom and filled a paper cup with water. I popped the pills into my mouth and chased them down with the water.
I took a deep breath, went back into the bedroom, tucked the prescription bottles in the carry-on again and stashed it at the back of the closet.
“Go to the mountain. Hear the voice of God. You are here to find your destiny—embrace it. Find God. Find yourself. Go to the mountain.”
“Leave me alone,” I grumbled as I continued to unpack.
“Go to the mountain and you will find the truth….”
I tried to shut out the voice in my head, but it refused to be silenced. “I’m not climbing any damned mountain!” I snapped, unable to take it any longer.
9
Lynne
I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes, vaguely aware of an unexpected aroma in the air. As I emerged from the fog of sleep, I realized what I was smelling. Food. I got out of bed, padding barefoot to the kitchen.
I found Connor standing at the stove, wearing jeans and a blue work shirt. He had a dishtowel draped over one shoulder and a frying pan in hand. He was heaping scrambled eggs onto two plates that already held bacon and fried potatoes.
He glanced over his shoulder when he realized I was there. “Good morning, Raven,” he greeted me cheerfully.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Proving I can cook.” He put down the frying pan and moved the plates to the table. “Toast?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” So he hadn't been kidding. He really could cook.
He popped four slices of bread into the toaster. “Juice?”
I nodded. “We have orange and grape—but I can do that.”
He shook his head. “This is my show. You sit.” Then, turning to face me, he smiled appreciatively. “On second thought, don’t sit. Nice legs.”
That's when I realized I wore only the three-sizes-too-big St. Louis Blues jersey I’d slept in. Living with a man platonically was going to require a major adjustment on my part. “Enjoy the view all you like,” I said. “Just so you know the trail never goes any further north.”
He looked amused. “Not even for special tours?”
“There are no special tours in this country,” I assured him, seating myself at the table. I tucked my legs beneath it in a way that shielded them from his view, then changed the subject. “If you like, after breakfast we can drive out to the site and I’ll give you a tour.”
He nodded. “I would indeed like that.” He sat down across the table from me. “Do you have a working lab?”
“We have a lab here in Taba, but it’s in need of equipment,” I admitted. "One more thing we haven't been able to afford."
“Take me there this afternoon and we’ll see what we can do about that,” he said promptly. “I should mention that I’ve arranged to have one of my motorbikes shipped here. I’d be lost without it.”
“Ride a lot, do you?” I asked.
He gave a deep sigh. “My bikes are my therapy,” he said. “I’m not good at talking out my issues, so when I need to deal with things, I just go off on my bike for a time.”
“Does it really help?” I asked.
“For the most part. Some things have no resolution.”
“You’ll want to stick to the paved roads here,” I cautioned. “There are still land mines out in the Peninsula. I wouldn’t want to see you get blown up.”
10
Lynne
“We have fourteen graduate students and at least sixty volunteers working on the site at all times,” I told Connor as I gave him a tour of the site.
“Where do you get your volunteers?” he asked.
“Mostly people who sign up to work here as part of their vacation, students looking for extra credit, Indiana Jones wannabes.”
Two Egyptian fighter jets flew directly overhead as we continued the tour. “This is a military zone,” I told him. “I feel like they’re always watching us, waiting for us to expose our true intentions.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my faded jeans. I wore a tan fedora that shielded my face from the sun. Too bad it couldn't shield me from his gaze. He had the most seductive eyes…
“What would they do if they did find out?” Connor put on his sunglasses.
“Kick us out of here,” I answered. “They’ve managed to keep us off the mountain for the past three years.”
“And you would like to climb that mountain,” he concluded.
“Of course.”
“Because it’s there, I presume.” He looked toward the mountain.
I shook my head. “Because Moses climbed that mountain. Because he saw the face of God there.”
“So…you really do believe in all the hocus pocus, do you?” Connor was intrigued. “You’re not just looking for a prize?”
“If I didn’t believe, I wouldn’t be here,” I said. “In archaeological circles, I’m what’s called a maximalist.”
Connor cocked an eyebrow. “A maximalist?”
I nodded. “An archaeologist who uses the Bible, literally, as a guidebook,” I explained. “I walk this land and I can imagine Moses leading the Hebrews across this
same spot. I can see Joseph and Mary with the infant Jesus, fleeing Herod’s death warrant as clearly as I can see you now.”
“But you’ve been here three years and haven’t found anything.” He stepped past a volunteer, a woman in a wide-brimmed hat, sifting soil.
“Whatever is here has been lost to us for over three thousand years,” I pointed out. “Eventually, we’ll find it.”
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“Tim and I did our first dig ten years ago in Megiddo,” I told him. “I’ll never forget how I felt when I unearthed artifacts confirming King Solomon’s reign. I knew then that was my calling, to verify events in the Bible with independent archaeological evidence.”
“You and Tim—you’ve known each other a long time?” There it was again. He seemed concerned about the nature of my relationship with my partner.
“Since college,” I said with a nod. “We’re like siblings.”
“You’ve never been involved?”
I laughed at the suggestion. “No, he’s been with Isabella since high school. They decided they wanted to get married when they were still kids. He and I, we’re best friends. We never saw each other in any other way.”
“What made you decide to become an archaeologist?” Connor asked as we paused at a cooler to pick up two bottles of water.
“My uncle, my father’s brother,” I said. “He was an archaeologist. I was just a kid, and I thought he had the most interesting life. He seemed to have been everywhere. I was completely infatuated with it.”
He looked around, taking it all in. “If you believe God is real, then you must also believe Satan is real,” he said then.
Chasing the Wind Page 4