“He asked me what was up,” Emma went on, “so I told him your story about the mountains and all that. I talked him into letting me come and that’s how I wound up hitching a ride on this baby. That guy has resources, I tell ya. Good thing, huh? How in the world did you two manage to get stuck on top of an active volcano?”
After a few minutes of asking questions Xander and Leila wouldn’t answer, and offering random information about her day, Emma got up to ask the medics for more blankets. As the thrum of the helicopter filled Xander’s ears, he slid one arm around Leila and drew her close. Her head came to rest on his shoulder.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he murmured into her hair. A thought smouldered in the back of his mind.
Ask her now.
No, that wouldn’t do. Not while being prodded and poked or with Emma flitting around shoving snacks in their faces. He didn’t even have the ring with him.
Leila looked up at him, a spark of sadness in her eyes, and offered a strained, tight-lipped smile. “You have no choice. I’m getting on the next flight to London.”
“No.” He placed a hand to the side of her face. After everything she must have been through, he wasn’t surprised to hear that. But she didn’t have to run away. He’d make sure she’d be safe. “Don’t say that. I quit the SO1.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I’ve got something new lined up,” he said, running a thumb across her cheek. “Here in Egypt. I’m going to dig again.” The lie came easier than he expected. Although it wasn’t really a lie. More of an omission of the truth. He really was going to dig. That just wasn’t the whole part of the deal.
She beamed at him. “Really?”
“Yep.”
The next thing he knew, her arms were around his neck and her face nestled against his chest. “Sounds perfect.”
Almost, he wanted to say. But he kept the thought to himself. Soon, the final piece would fall into place. Then, everything would be perfect.
• • •
Three weeks had passed by the time Leila returned to the lab in Saqqara. The first week was spent at the hospital and in a police interrogation room. An Inspector Elmahdy seemed genuinely relieved she’d been found, albeit strangely nervous during their conversation. He wouldn’t allow for long pauses between questions, asked them quickly, and kept throwing glances at the door.
She told him the details of her ordeal, although left out most of what happened at the tomb. And she let him continue to believe they’d been on top of a volcano.
Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. But she wasn’t about to explain to anyone she’d found the long-lost Greek fire, only for it all to be destroyed. Who would believe her, anyway? Not that the “volcano” or even David Weston seemed to matter much to the inspector. He was mostly interested in Tahir Awad.
He sighed when she explained the smuggler had been shot dead.
“Well, that settles that.” The detective began scrawling furiously in his notepad. “I suppose it was all orchestrated by him. You, unfortunately, made an easy target, so this lady taxi driver you describe was likely hired to whisk you away to the desert. But now that he’s dead, we don’t have to worry about him anymore. Chief Inspector will be pleased to hear, as well.”
“But what about the lady who kidnapped me? She’s still out there.”
“Considering she was hired, I doubt she’ll ever bother you again. It was probably just a one-time job. Plus, you’ve given us a good description, so we’ll keep an eye out for her. If she’s a regular at this, she’ll turn up on our radar again.”
“I—” Leila wasn’t sure what to make of that. Were detectives always this eager to close a case? “I guess so?”
“Any more questions? No?” Without waiting, he snapped his notepad shut. “It looks like we’re done here. I wish you a peaceful recovery.” Inspector Elmahdy gave her a strained smile. “Pass on my greetings to Mr. Harrison. And his, er, colleagues. I hope we won’t be needing to meet again.”
They shook hands and parted ways.
The two weeks following that were spent moving apartments. Knowing David had been inside poking around made it impossible to live there any longer. Meanwhile, Xander was still camped out in his hotel room. She wasn’t sure why, but he was being a bit mysterious about his future living arrangements. He insisted he wanted to get settled in his new job with the university first, which made sense. Sort of.
And now that Leila was at the lab, she had another important discussion to have. She locked the door of her small, used Suzuki jeep parked on the curb, a new purchase since she swore to herself never to ride in a taxi again. She bounded up the front steps and slipped inside. Being a Friday the hallway was empty, the doors lining it all shut.
Her phone pinged. She stopped and dug it out of her bag, thankful for the extra minute of distraction before meeting Soliman.
A text from her mother.
Leila chewed her lip, then started to put her phone back. Wait—was she really doing this again? With a shake of her head, she opened the message. Constantly avoiding her mother wasn’t helping the relationship. A couple weeks ago, she’d managed to send a text to let her know she was all right, but that was it.
Aisha: Thanks for your message. Could I see you soon? Would you like to meet for tea?
She sighed. They had a lot to talk about. It wasn’t going to be the most pleasant conversation, but it was the only way to figure out what was going on in her mother’s mind. And if it went well, it would be worth it.
Leila: Would Monday be good?
With that taken care of, she finished the walk to Soliman’s door. Shaking off thoughts of her mother, she lifted a fist, then stopped. This wasn’t going to be fun, either. Like that time she’d visited the professor in the hospital, badly injured after he’d been caught in the collapsed tunnel that led to the sealed tomb of an ancient Egyptian queen. At the hospital, after she’d confided in him that she’d found the tomb, he’d become erratic, ripping IVs out and shouting. She’d thought it was the drugs making him delirious. Or had it been something else?
Swallowing, she knocked on the office door. Her guts twisted as she waited for a response, a hesitant voice in the back of her mind hoping nobody would answer. Panic squeezed in her chest. Maybe she should have brought Xander with her. Too late.
“Come in,” Soliman’s muffled voice called.
His voice seemed normal. It was just Professor Soliman. Not some ancient zombie mummy. Nothing to be afraid of. She opened the door and peered around the solid beech panel. The office was as she remembered—an organized chaos. The bookshelves were overflowing, not only with books, but with replicas of Ancient Egyptian artifacts and statuettes as well. At least she’d always assumed they were replicas. But ever since Abdullah had uttered his name, she had no idea what to think.
Papers had been piled haphazardly onto one side of the desk, surrounding the flatscreen computer monitor. The keyboard seemed to have vanished somewhere under the disarray.
Soliman sat behind his desk, his head down, glasses sitting at the tip of his nose. Two circles of light reflected off the glossy skin on top of his cranium.
Without lifting his head, Soliman’s eyes shot up and locked on her. She jumped.
“Oh, Leila. Come in. Sit down.” He motioned at the empty chair in front of his desk, his voice the usual friendly tone. “So relieved to have you back.”
