After Dark (27 page)

T
HE LINE OUT
in front of Shrimpton's House of

Ancient Horrors was three times as long as it had been the day following the news that Chester's body had been discovered in the sarcophagus. The number of people waiting to see the first public exhibition of worked dreamstone was growing by the minute. Lydia had never seen her boss so happy.

“I got a raise,” she confided to Melanie.

“You deserve it.” Melanie grinned. “I still can't believe you pulled this off. How in the world did you manage to convince the university authorities to allow the dreamstone to be put on display here, of all places?”

Lydia contemplated the crowd filing past the exhibits. “Let's just say I pulled a few strings.”

Emmett walked out from behind a nearby display vault, where he had been studying a small dreamstone vase. “She means she convinced Mercer Wyatt to call in a few favors at the university.”

Melanie grimaced. “I won't ask what kind of favors.”

“I didn't ask either,” Lydia said cheerfully.

“Well, one thing is for certain,” Melanie said. “Shrimp will never forget this day as long as he lives. He's positively glowing with pride. I wouldn't be surprised if he leaves you the whole bloody museum in his will.”

Lydia held up a hand. “Please. Don't even suggest it.”

Melanie laughed. “Just joking. My guess is you'll soon be so busy doing private consulting work you'll have to quit your job here at the museum.”

“We'll see,” Lydia said. “It takes a while to build up a clientele.”

“Especially if you're choosy,” Emmett murmured dryly.

She glared at him.

“Excuse me. I'd better go give Phil a hand at the front gate,” Melanie said smoothly. “I'm sure he's exhausted from selling so many tickets.”

She waved as she plunged into the crowd.

Emmett stood quietly beside Lydia for a while. Together they watched the line of people wind through the exhibits.

“Melanie was right,” Emmett said eventually. “You probably won't have any trouble attracting private clients.”

“We'll see,” Lydia said again.

“Think you might need a partner on your next case?” Emmett asked conversationally.

“I doubt it. I mean, what are the odds?”

“Maybe you'll require the services of a good ghost-hunter,” he suggested.

“Hard to say.”

“Well, then, how about a date tonight? Need one of those?”

“Thought you'd never ask.”