Krewe of Hunters, Volume 2: The Unseen ; The Unholy ; The Unspoken ; The Uninvited

by Heather Graham

  Apparently they’d all gotten word that the mummy of Amun Mopat was coming in. Kat wondered if someone—Amanda?—had purposely alerted them.

  “Hey,” Kat whispered to Tyler. “How come they’re here today? This is the third day we’ve been out on the lake, and Brady actually discovered the wreck and died on Monday!”

  “Either they learned that the Glory went out this morning, or they got a heads-up that something major was happening.” He grimaced and indicated Amanda.

  “I wondered about that myself,” she murmured.

  “They’re here!” Amanda announced grandly. She looked like a queen about to meet her people.

  “We don’t know what’s in there yet,” Jon warned her. Obviously he hadn’t been party to this media scrum.

  Amanda leaped from the boat to the dock and started down its length to the gate, where the reporters had been held at bay.

  Questions shot out at her.

  “You’ve brought up the first of the treasures!” one man cried. “Is it the mummy?”

  “Do you have visual proof that it’s the Jerry McGuen?” a woman with an English accent asked.

  “Are you afraid of the curse?” someone else asked.

  “Did the ship kill your coworker?”

  “Did the curse kill Brady Laurie?”

  “Do you think the death of Austin Miller is connected?”

  “Do you believe in the curse?”

  “When will you report to the scientific community on your discovery?”

  “Will you be filming when you open the crate?”

  The questions came in a flurry from all directions. Amanda raised a hand. “Please!” she said and laughed pleasantly. “Yes, it’s the Jerry McGuen, and King Productions—working on a documentary about our historic find—will have footage for the media soon. I’m a scientist, and I don’t believe in curses. I’m heartbroken that both Brady and Austin are dead. Brady’s excitement led to his carelessness, I’m afraid, but I’m sure he’s watching over us as we continue his work, and that he’s thrilled! Austin must have died knowing that, as well. We’ve followed through on his dream! Now, I believe we’ve found—”

  Jon Hunt had been standing quietly behind her. He stepped forward at that, cutting her off. “We believe we have definitely found a major artifact from the tomb, but exactly what it is, we don’t really know yet. As soon as we do, we’ll have a press conference, and tell you all about it. We have to ask you to clear the way, however. We’re going to unload and get our find to the Preservation Center.”

  Captain Bob and Jimmy were maneuvering the crane again, carefully lifting the crate from the deck of the Glory to the dock and onto a dolly, held tightly by the two interns. A large truck lettered with the Preservation Center’s name waited beyond the group of reporters.

  “I’m going to give them a hand with this. That’s a heavy crate for two skinny scientific types to handle,” Tyler said.

  “You go, cowboy,” Kat told him.

  The media didn’t disperse; meanwhile, Captain Bob, Jimmy, Tyler and the interns managed to move the crate while Amanda continued to talk to the press. Jon hovered behind her, listening closely for what she might say. It was actually an amusing spectacle, Kat thought.

  “When will you open the crate?” one of the reporters asked Amanda.

  “As soon as possible!”

  “We’ll open it when the conditions are right—and the film crew is there to document every step,” Jon corrected.

  “Quite a show, quite a show!” Captain Bob said. He’d finished his work with the crane and had come to stand by her. “By the way, someone left a cell phone in the galley. Is it yours? Or maybe one of your coworkers’?”

  “I’ll go see. Thanks, Bob.”

  Kat hurried down to the galley. The phone on the table wasn’t hers, which she’d known; hers was in her bag. When she turned it on, the picture on the screen was of King Tut’s death mask.

  It was Amanda’s phone.

  She scrolled through the numbers called recently but none of them meant anything to her.

  Then she paused. Looking at Amanda’s phone like this wasn’t legal.

  Of course, it was in plain sight. Kat told herself that she was only taking it to return to its rightful owner. Any information gleaned from it without a warrant couldn’t be used in court, but…

  They were searching for a killer.

  She took out her own cell phone and started snapping pictures of the numbers called over the past few days. But then she heard voices. She quickly checked Amanda’s last few emails, and snapped pictures again, then hurried up the galley stairs in time to innocently hand the phone to Amanda.

  “Oh, thank goodness it was here!” Amanda said, accepting the phone. She was flushed with pleasure from her moments in the spotlight. “Thanks!”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  With the crate packed in the van and on its way to the center, the media finally scattered.

  “Shall we go back to the hotel?” Tyler asked Kat.

  “I’m afraid to let that van out of our sight,” Kat said.

  Tyler grinned. “Not to worry.” He pulled out his cell, calling Logan. When he ended the call a minute later, he said, “They’ll be met by one of our people.”

  “It’s great to be part of a team, isn’t it?” She smiled wearily. “I am so ready for a hot shower!”

  They returned to the hotel and split up, agreeing to meet in thirty minutes. Kat was greeted by Bastet at the door to her room and stopped to give her some attention. “I wish you could speak,” she said. “I’m sure you knew it wasn’t a mummy coming after your master!”

  Showered and changed, she met Tyler across the hall in the suite as planned. “Have you spoken with Logan again?” she asked.

  “He’s at the center himself. He said we have a few hours. Amanda won’t let anyone touch the crate until the film crew’s there, which could be two hours. And I’m just here to serve. What do you want to do while we wait?”

  She grinned, removing her cell phone with a flourish. “In her enthusiasm over the press, Amanda forgot her phone. I took pictures of her recently called numbers and some of the emails she’s received. I’d like to see who she’s been calling and emailing.”

  “Let’s do it,” Tyler said.

  Kat connected her cell to one of the laptops on the table. Then she brought up the photos on Tyler’s screen.

  “You’re not going to win any photography contests,” he said.

  “Hey! I was in a hurry!”

  “I’ll take the phone numbers. You can work on the emails.”

  They set to work. Kat was disappointed. Amanda had written to her cousin in Phoenix, to a superior on the board at the Preservation Center to assure him that she was following protocol and to someone she’d met at an online dating site, telling him she’d be too busy to see him for the next few months.

  The next email written, however, was intriguing. “Listen to this,” she said to Tyler.

  Tyler looked up.

  “‘Please be advised,’” Kat read, “‘that legal action will be taken with the State of Illinois should either of your companies seek to investigate the Jerry McGuen, find artifacts or in any way hinder the efforts of the Chicago Ancient History Preservation Center. We will prosecute any interference to the full extent of the law.’”

  “Who was she writing to?” Tyler asked.

  “Landry Salvage and Simonton’s Sea Search,” Kat said.

  Tyler nodded grimly. “Strange. She’s still on speaking terms with someone at Landry Salvage—she’s made calls to their switchboard every day for the past two weeks. Guess who else she’d been calling? Austin Miller.”

  * * *

  Will and Sean went back down to the wreck to adjust the position of the remote camera, trying to make sure it wouldn’t be caught in any debris and that it would focus on the hold. Earl had rigged the mechanism so the divers could see up to the control station on the security boat, while anyone at the d
esk could view the dive site.

  Will held up a thumb to Earl Candy. Earl grinned and raised a thumb in return. Sean moved to Will, and they both waved at him in approval. Earl seemed pleased with his success; he had all the training and equipment he needed but didn’t customarily film in the depths.

  Before ascending, Sean studied the wreck again. He could look all the way over to the starboard side, since so much of the massive steel hull had been ripped out. Of course, it was astonishing that the ship had gone down in one piece. It appeared to have sunk quickly—with greater speed than the Titanic!—and flooded evenly. If one section of the ship had filled with water first, it was likely that the Jerry McGuen would have broken in two. As it was, she lay with her port side jagged and exposed, at a slight angle, the aft section with the storage holds almost ten feet deeper than the deck and the grand salon.

  Sean tapped him on the arm. Time to surface. The two of them did so, following safety procedures.

  On deck, Alan King was pacing anxiously. “We need to get back to town. How did I ever become associated with someone like that woman?” He groaned, shaking his head.

  “What’s going on?” Will asked.

  “Dr. Amanda Channel. She’s got ants in her pants. She can’t stand waiting. God, the woman doesn’t have an off switch!”

  “There is a board of directors,” Earl said. “We could go to them with our complaints.” He grinned. “I have video to show them!”

  “Or,” Bernie suggested, “we could take the high road—at least for now.” He explained to Will and Sean. “Amanda just called Alan. The crate’s at the center. They’ve removed the outer tarp, and the wooden box inside seems to have withstood the wreck, the water and the ravages of time. She sounds as if it’s all her doing. Yep, it’s all her doing. Anyway, she knows she can’t go any further without us, but she’s threatening to do exactly that.”

  “Someone in the Krewe must be there,” Sean said, frowning.

  Bernie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Your man Logan, and he’s keeping her down. But we need to head back immediately.”

  Will and Sean looked at each other. He wasn’t sure how they were getting back, because the security boat had just been rigged to maintain the remote camera.

  “We have help coming,” Bernie told them. “Captain Bob and Jimmy should be here in about five minutes.”

  “I’ll take a look at the computer, see how our remote’s doing,” Will said.

  The brawny young security guard on duty gladly relinquished his chair at the computer to Will. “Boring, really,” he said. “But don’t worry. We know our jobs.”

  Will sent him to take a break, to the guard’s evident relief.

  Once the guy had left, Will studied the footage and understood what he meant—the camera was focused solely on the hold. Then, unexpectedly, something in the corner of the screen caught his attention. He could just see the grand salon and, for a moment, it seemed that ghostly images danced by him. He blinked; they were still there. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing with his eyes and what with his mind, but he saw the water in a horrible maelstrom. There were women in beautiful long dresses and men in tuxedos and suits, scrambling, fighting the roiling rush of the water, spinning and turning….

  “What do you see?” Sean asked him.

  Will almost jumped. He’d been so intent he hadn’t heard Sean behind him.

  “I’m not sure. I had an image of the ship wrecking. I wish we could learn more about what happened that night. As far as I know, there wasn’t even a Mayday sent out. The Jerry McGuen had reported her estimated time of arrival the next day—and then she was never heard from again. That’s the way I understand it, anyway. I’ve got to do more reading.”

  “I went through all the files, too,” Sean said, “and that’s my understanding, as well. Nothing. She was coming in and then she disappeared. A terrible storm had struck, with blinding snow and sleet. Search parties went out as soon as possible, but nothing was found. Not so much as a floating deck chair.”

  “She must have gone down really fast—as if a plug was pulled on her,” Will said.

  “Half the port side is missing.”

  “You’d almost think she was rammed by something like an icebreaker,” Will mused.

  “Say there was an icebreaker out on the lake… Wouldn’t they have tried to save any survivors or at the very least reported what happened?”

  Will shrugged. “You’d hope so,” he said.

  Earl took a step into the cabin. “Transport is here,” he told them.

  Will had no idea how Captain Bob and Jimmy managed to stay calm while working with Amanda, but they were pleasant and ready to move with their usual speed and competence when they picked up the film crew, plus Sean and Will. Two of Alan King’s security guys remained on the control boat, including the young man who’d resumed watching the screen.

  Will stood with Captain Bob as he took the helm.

  “Press has gone wild.” Bob rolled his eyes. “The dock was a zoo when we came back in.”

  “I guess it’ll be frenzy for a while. This is pretty momentous. Finding a ship in one of the Great Lakes would be enough, but the Jerry McGuen held a mummy,” Will said. “I assume the crate made it safely off the dock?”

  “I make sure things like that happen, you know. This is our living,” Captain Bob said with a grin. “And your friend, Mr. King, pays very nicely.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Will said, grinning back.

  Thirty minutes later, he and Sean were dropped off at the hotel. Will’s cell rang as they left the elevator—Kat, saying that she and Tyler had just reached the center, and Amanda and her team were waiting for the documentary crew to arrive. Kat spoke quietly, and he knew she didn’t intend to be overheard.

  “Will, I got some interesting information off Amanda’s cell phone. Tyler and I have been checking out her recent communications. She sent a threatening email to both of the major salvage companies who had contact with the Sand Diggers. But she also called Landry Salvage—every day!”

  “Who was she speaking to?”

  “The switchboard. We can’t track calls to specific extensions, only to the main number.”

  “There’s something…fishy about that woman,” Will said drily. “We’ll have to look into it. Does Logan have a report on anyone who might have a diving motor device?”

  “Both Landry and Simonton have one. He found a few others that were privately owned, but he’s already gotten alibis on those. Oh, and a few companies up in Wisconsin have them, but from what he can discover, they can’t be connected to what’s going on here.”

  “All right, thanks. Sean and I will be there in about thirty minutes. Don’t start the party without us.”

  * * *

  The crate was going to be opened in a climate-controlled clean room and everyone present had to be suited up—face masks, booties, hair in a gauze cap.

  The area was kept cool to avoid degradation that might set in with any kind of heat. Even a speck of dust could harm certain instruments or damage artifacts that had been underwater for years. They wore masks to avoid contaminating the objects…and to protect themselves from any ancient bacteria or microorganisms that might have survived.

  There were sterile stainless-steel tables to receive the treasures in the crates, but everything, including the crowbars, had been sterilized first. Earl’s camera and the microphone and boom had to be cleaned and covered, as well. If she wasn’t consumed by the fact that they were looking for a murderer, Kat would have found the whole procedure fascinating.

  She was already gowned and masked when Will and Sean showed up, but Will came right over to her. She raised a brow and he grinned behind his mask. “At last—all shall be revealed.” And although she couldn’t forget the murders for a second, Kat suddenly felt excited.

  Despite all the precautions and the machinery, pure brawn was needed at times. Will, Sean and Tyler were called upon to help as the giant crate was dismantled. There was layer after layer
of packaging, which was in itself a historic find. Canvas and wood chips had been used for waterproofing inside the crate and under the tarp; another box was beneath those, and it took well over an hour to get through the packing to the real treasure. But then they reached it.

  The outer sarcophagus was the size of a coffin and a half. It had been carved out of granite and was staggeringly heavy. Even with the use of robotic arms, winches and small cranes, it took real effort by all the men to maneuver it.

  Jon Hunt was as much in awe as Amanda, remarking on the preservation of the sarcophagus, the beauty, the design.

  Extremely carefully, the seals were broken, and the lid was finally removed.

  Beneath it lay another sarcophagus.

  Earl moved the camera close, and Bernie wielded the microphone while Amanda explained the intricate designs and what they signified. Amun Mopat had seen himself as perhaps greater than the pharaoh he’d served, and that pharaoh had been one of the most powerful ever to rule. She spoke briefly about the New Kingdom and the glorious reign of those pharaohs and their priests. Toward the end of her talk, she pointed to hieroglyphics on the coffin depicting creatures who’d had so much significance in Egyptian life, such as the cobra, the jackal and the cat.

  Then it was time to open the inner sarcophagus. There was silence when the lid was lifted.

  Kat almost gasped aloud.

  Amun Mopat wore a gold and bejeweled death mask, which depicted him in the prime of life.

  His face, on the mask, was the face she’d seen in her dreams.

  * * *

  Will knew that he and every member of the Krewe tried not to stare at Kat.

  But, of course, they’d all seen the picture Jane had drawn from Kat’s description, and now…there he lay.

  In death.

  Kat didn’t move; she barely blinked. She didn’t give away a thing in front of the others. Will was impressed by her lack of reaction. Eyes were the most telling feature on the human face, and her eyes were all that was truly visible.

  Amanda noticed nothing at all wrong. She marveled at the discovery for the camera and the microphone and went on to say how they wouldn’t disturb the mummy further until it had been CAT scanned, X-rayed and all the noninvasive work possible was done. At the end, she preened for the camera, Earl Candy shot the mummy from all angles and Amanda announced that they were done for the day.