Krewe of Hunters 7 The Unspoken (20 page)

Andy Simonton shook his head. “I’m just glad I had nothing to do with that damn ship. It’s scary—Brady Laurie, Austin…and now Amanda and a
guard?
”

“The guard isn’t dead,” Samantha said.

“Maybe the poor guy will survive to tell the tale.” Simonton looked past Samantha and saw Dirk Manning. “Dirk!” he called, walking past Samantha. He set a hand on Manning’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m so sorry. I know what good friends you and Austin were.”

“Thank you, Andy, thank you. Samantha, I do believe just about everyone’s present, is that correct?” Dirk asked.

“We’re waiting on just one more—Landry. He’s on his way with a date or a friend or something,” Samantha said.

As she spoke, the door opened in the hallway; Stewart Landry was there. He was accompanied by his attractive receptionist, the blonde Sherry Bertelli. She smiled vaguely when Dirk Manning came forward to greet them. “Thank you, thank you for coming. It would have meant a lot to Austin.”

“We were still reeling from the news of his death when we heard about Amanda,” Landry said.

“She really wasn’t very nice,” Sherry noted.

Manning cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it’s very sad, all the same.”

Andy Simonton had been standing still, watching Landry and Sherry. Landry noticed Simonton and seemed slightly surprised. “Simonton, how are you?” He strode forward, offering his hand.

Simonton took it. They behaved in a cordial manner, but both men seemed tense. “Hello, um, Ms. Bertelli,” Simonton said.

“Sherry. Yes, hello, Mr. Simonton.”

“Andy, please,” he told her.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Manning said. “We have our nine to read in honor of our friend Austin Miller. We shall begin. If everyone will gather in the yard?”

As he spoke, Simonton caught sight of Will and Kat. He seemed curious, but not dismayed. “Hello.” He walked over, gesturing at their robes. “I wouldn’t have thought you were members or associates of the Sand Diggers.”

“We’re here because of Dirk,” Kat said. “He was with us when we found Austin Miller, so…I guess we have something of a bond.”

“I figured you’d be busy at the Preservation Center,” Simonton said. “That’s all very tragic, but…” He grimaced. “Both Brady and Amanda were obsessed. I feel bad for poor Jon Hunt, though. He must be suffering big-time. I mean, they have a guard, a receptionist…interns, but those three were the ones who really held the fort down, you know?”

“Yes, Jon isn’t coping too well.”

“Poor boy!” Simonton shook his head. “Well, I guess we should get into the yard.”

He joined the stream heading out. Will held his reading in one hand and took Kat’s hand with the other. He almost walked into Sherry Bertelli. She looked up at him and her eyes widened.

“I know you!” she said.

“Yes, hello, Ms. Bertelli.”

“You’re the agent. Oh!” She’d noticed Kat beside him. “And you’re the other agent.”

“Tonight,” Kat told her, “we’re just mourners.”

“Did you know Mr. Miller?” she asked.

“Only in death.” Kat smiled. “But he was a lovely man.”

Sherry seemed perplexed; at her side, Landry paused, frowning as he saw Will and Kat.

“Good God! Do you people hold nothing sacred?” he demanded.

“Actually, we hold a man’s life sacred above all else,” Will said pleasantly.

“Is there a problem?” Manning called from the back door.

“We’re on our way, Dirk, on our way!” Landry called, frowning again as he looked at Will.

They continued out.

In a long trail, they began the procession through the winding maze. Will knew that, alone, he’d find it difficult to orient himself. But Dirk Manning, at the head of the line, was sure of every step.

“I speak for Ra!” he intoned, waving an incense burner in front of him as he walked. “Although our brother Austin lived in a different time and place, we pray that in his new life he may forever know the warmth and nurturing power of the sun.”

Samantha had the next reading. “I speak for Isis,” she said. “Isis, who represents healing of all that hurts and bears down upon a laden soul. Austin, may you be relieved of the pain that is the lot of man. May you feel the grace of freedom, the health of the soul, in your new life.”

By the time Samantha finished speaking, they’d come to the center of the maze. There was an altar guarded by two stone lions; in the center was a large obelisk.

Will was touched to see that many of the mourners had brought flowers, which they laid on the altar.

Other members of the group read as their assigned gods or goddesses. The first of the two men he’d met in the parlor, Bill Bartholomew, read thoughts as Khepra, god of creation and change, and talked about the new life. David Gleeson spoke words of wisdom from Seker, god of light, and the god who protected souls as they passed from this world to the next. It was while Gleeson was speaking that Will saw Kat staring hard at the altar. He focused in the same direction. After a moment, he could see the vague image of an elderly man, and then, bit by bit, Austin Miller, became more visible to him.

He stood next to Dirk Manning, his hand on his old friend’s shoulder. If Dirk felt his hand in any way, he didn’t show it.

Next it was Kat’s turn to speak. She said the words written for her as Mut, telling the soul of Austin Miller that a mother’s love would guide him. She looked straight into his eyes as she spoke. The spirit of Austin Miller looked back at her, smiling, his eyes a little moist.

Will heard Austin so clearly when he said, “Thank you, my dear,” that he was certain others must have heard him, too. But they hadn’t. Other speakers, including Will, read their speeches and the service continued.

“Tell my friend, please, that my old meerschaum pipe he so admired is in the pocket of the smoking jacket I left in the closet here. I want him to have it. I want him to have the pipe and to take care of himself, and I don’t want him at my house or at this house alone. Tell him I fear he is in danger. There
is
a curse. I saw the mummy.”

Will glanced around, wondering if anyone else could possibly see and hear Austin Miller. He seemed so clear and strong and loud. But they were all paying attention to the next speaker.

“I will,” Kat said softly.

Austin Miller was still next to Dirk Manning when he brought the ceremony to a close. “Ancient Egypt is my passion,” Dirk told the crowd solemnly. “Christianity is my religion, but mine is a God of love and kindness, and He understands what we did here tonight. Some scholars now consider the polytheistic beliefs of the old Egyptians as the practice of seeing one god in many ways. And as we all know, methods of worship changed over the fifty centuries that passed within the many kingdoms and periods of the people we study. Thank you all for being here. Thank you for this send-off to our dear friend. Mortal remains, we know, mean nothing. Austin’s soul is with us tonight.”

Will was startled when Kat walked forward, tiny but so regal, to speak to Dirk Manning across the altar. “Dirk, Austin really
is
with us tonight. He is truly appreciative of all that you did. He wants you to know that his meerschaum pipe is in his smoking jacket, in the pocket.” She stopped speaking and turned around, looking at the gathered guests. “He says there is no curse. He reminds you that you love Egyptology, but you’re not superstitious fools.”

Will watched her with curiosity, crossing his arms over his chest.

“But he warns that you are all in danger because of a psychotic human being, so he wants you to be careful,” Kat finished.

What the hell is she doing?
Will wondered.

The ghost of Austin Miller was staring at Kat. “That’s not what I said, my dear. I told you—the mummy did it!”

She turned again to look straight at Austin Miller. “Someone here tonight knows what happened—what’s
been
happening,” Kat said.

Stewart Landry’s secretary suddenly gasped. “Oh! She sees him! She sees Austin’s ghost! I think…oh, there’s something there, Dirk, right by you!”

Dirk Manning twitched, turning with a frown.

Obviously, he saw nothing.

“He is! He is with us!” Samantha said, raising her arms to the night sky. “We have given this ceremony in his honor, and he has become like a living god!”

Andy Simonton started laughing. “Oh, please! What a crock of shit!” he exclaimed. “I’m going to honor old Austin, all right. I’m going to have a Scotch and toast to his honor. Join me inside!”

“Hell, I’ll join you!” Stewart Landry said. “We’ll honor the old fellow in the way he would’ve liked!”

He turned. Others, confused, turned to follow him, as well. People were ready to go back to the house.

Dirk Manning looked at Kat with tears in his eyes. “Why?” he asked her. “Why would you do such a thing, say such things—make a mockery of our ceremony?” he asked.

“Mr. Manning, I wasn’t mocking you, but I’ll admit I
was
using you tonight. Someone here does know what’s going on, and I’m hoping I managed to unnerve that person. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I used you, yes, but I do have a…way to hear the dead.”

“Of course. You’re an M.E.,” he said.

“That’s true, but I also have a strange sixth sense.” She shook her head, smiling. “What I said about the pipe was true. Austin Miller loved you like a brother. He wants you to have his pipe and I’m sure you’ll find it where I said you would.”

His expression was troubled. But whether he believed her or not, they would never know, because they suddenly heard shouts coming from the maze.

“Hey! Manning, how the hell do we get out of here?”

It was Andy Simonton calling to him.

“Here, Andy, follow my voice. I can get you out!”

That was Samantha, calling back.

But before anyone else could shout that they, too, were lost, there was a desperate scream and Sherry Bertelli began to sob.

“Help me, help me, oh, God, help me! It’s…it’s the mummy!”

12

K
at turned to stare at Will. He was already pulling his robe over his shoulders, yanking it off, ready to go in search of Sherry Bertelli.

Landry was shouting in desperation, calling her name over and over again.

Kat instantly got out of her own robe and asked Dirk Manning, “Which way? Which way would have gotten her lost?”

Manning pointed to one of the paths. Kat tore down it and crashed straight into Samantha, who looked at her with wide, terrified, eyes—speechless for once.

“Get back to the house!” Kat said, pushing her aside. People were shouting from all over the maze, and it was impossible to get a bearing on Sherry’s location. At last, she went silent.

Kat envisioned the worst, but she kept running through the darkness and the shadows, guided by the moonlight that filtered down and the occasional flash of a torch carried by one or other member of the group.

She made a hurried turn to the left—and practically tripped over Sherry. The woman was lying on the ground. Kat fell to her knees just as Will reached her, too.

“Oh, Lord!” he exclaimed, hunkering down beside her. “Is she—”

“She has a strong pulse and she’s breathing evenly. I think she just passed out,” Kat said, relieved.

“Let’s get her to the house.” Will slipped his arms beneath the woman, cradling her before rising carefully to his feet. “Which way?”

“We came from that direction.” Kat pointed behind them. “If we can just get to the altar…”

“Sherry, Sherry!” they heard Landry cry in anguish. “Where are you?”

“We have her! She’s all right!” Will shouted in reply.

They could hear Landry babbling his relief as they approached the altar. Dirk was still standing there, as if stunned. When he saw them, he came to life again. “This way. Follow me.”

He led them out of the maze. Will carried Sherry past Landry, who tried to stop him and touch Sherry.

“Mr. Landry, let’s just get her inside.”

“A doctor, we need a doctor!” Landry said.

“She probably scared herself after all that ridiculous ghost talk,” Andy Simonton muttered. “She needs a whiskey!”

“Mr. Landry, I am a doctor,” Kat said.

“Hell, yeah! A doctor for the dead!” Simonton snorted.

“I assure you, I finished my residency in a hospital working with the living,” Kat told him. “Ms. Bertelli will be fine.”

Will wasn’t a man to be stopped easily; he’d barely slowed when Landry accosted him and he continued his long strides, carrying Sherry back to the house. He brought her to the parlor, where he placed her on the sofa. Her eyes were already opening as he did.

“Oh!” she gasped, her lashes fluttering.

“Sherry, Sherry!” Landry rushed to her side and fell to his knees, taking her hand. He smoothed her hair. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt. I’m not hurt. I’m fine, Stewart. I’m just scared and shaken and—” She broke off. By then, everyone had come in and they were all staring at her. Her voice was tremulous. “I swear to you, there was a mummy in the maze. It walked toward me. It was terrifying!”

“I’m going for the whiskey!” Simonton said.

“They need to stop. They need to stop right now,” Samantha exclaimed. “Honestly, someone should make them throw that mummy back in the lake and forget the
Jerry McGuen
was ever found. Three people are dead and one more may be dying…because there’s a curse. Such things
can
exist.”

“I’m afraid,” Will said, “that once a discovery is made—it’s made. I sincerely doubt the mummy will be cast out to sea. And surely you know there’s no curse.”

“But there was a mummy in the maze,” Sherry insisted.

“Then we’ll search the maze,” Will said quietly. “Whoever might’ve been there is probably long gone. Sherry might even have been startled by running into one of us in the darkness. Still, we’ll search the entire maze.”

“Oh, hell, no! We’re not going back out there,” Landry said.

“I wasn’t expecting you to, Mr. Landry. We’ll have the authorities do the search,” Will told him.

Andy Simonton grinned. “I thought
you
were the authorities.”

“We are,” Kat said in an aloof voice. She pulled out her cell phone. “And we will investigate the maze.”

“You…you can’t. You…can’t!” Sherry cried. “There was a curse. It was written on Amun Mopat’s tomb. Just because it was unspoken doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist!”

Simonton shook his head and laughed. “Unspoken? It’s all anyone talks about, writes about or puts on the news. And Ms. Bertelli, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be cruel, but there is no mummy in that maze. We all scared ourselves—
she
scared us!” he said, pointing at Kat. He walked over to her. “You may be all kinds of gorgeous, honey, but you’re a freak!”

Kat could feel Will’s tension; it would have made her smile if she hadn’t been afraid he was ready to deck Andy Simonton.

She rose swiftly to her own defense. “It’s Special Agent Sokolov, not
honey,
Mr. Simonton. Or Dr. Sokolov, if you prefer. I’ll be happy to answer to either. And I wasn’t creating an illusion or a freak show. Dirk, would you be so good as to find out if I’m right or not?”

Manning hurried to the closet. It was a big walk-in closet and it took him a few minutes to rummage through the many jackets there.

He stepped out of the closet and stared at Kat in utter disbelief.

“Well?” Simonton demanded.

Dirk produced the exquisitely carved meerschaum pipe.

There was an audible gasp.

“She planted it there,” Simonton said.

“No, she didn’t.” The whisper of incredulity in Dirk’s voice made those around him fall silent.

Kat looked around the room, letting her eyes settle on Stewart Landry first, and then on Andy Simonton. “The dead do speak to me,” she said quietly. “And someday soon, one of the dead will tell us who was behind all this.”

“What?” Sherry gasped.

Simonton scowled at her. “She’s pretending she talks to ghosts!” he said.

Kat smiled. “Actually, I was referring primarily to the fact that I’m a medical examiner. And the dead speak through their remains. They speak to me,” she said again. “There isn’t a killer out there who doesn’t make a mistake, and a dead body will eventually tell us just what that mistake was. There’s so much we can learn.” Of course, they hadn’t learned much on the scientific front yet, not from Austin or Amanda, but none of these people knew that.

Sherry let out a little sob. “Please, Stewy, I want to go home now!” she said.

Her words began the exodus. Most of the crowd looked warily at Kat as if they were more than a little afraid of her, but no one approached her or said a word.

The fact that Will was standing behind her—tall, broad-shouldered and fierce—might have had something to do with that.

At last they were alone with Dirk Manning.

“Mr. Manning,” Will told him, “we are concerned for your safety. I’m getting some of our fellow agents out here with good lights and we’ll go through the maze. But I don’t think you should be alone tonight. I’d like you to stay at the hotel with us.”

To Kat’s astonishment, Manning didn’t blink an eye. “You’re sure you can get me a room? I can be on the same floor with you agents?”

“I’m sure we can arrange it.” Will pulled out his phone and turned aside. Kat could hear him speaking with Logan, but she gave her attention to Dirk.

“Mr. Manning, I need you to think hard. If any of your associates have behaved strangely in the last while, if any of them have seemed either uninterested or too interested in what’s going on, we need to know.”

Manning groaned. “I’m numb right now. I can’t seem to think of anything.”

“Don’t worry. Maybe after you’ve had some sleep…”

“You really saw him—Austin. You really saw him?”

She nodded.

“So there
is
something more!” he whispered.

Will walked over to them. “We’ll have other Krewe members here in a few minutes. Kat, you want to stay with Mr. Manning until then? I’ll get started in the maze.”

“You won’t know where you’re going,” Manning protested. “If there’s anything out there…”

“If there’s anything out there that would hurt me, it’s human—and I have a gun,” Will assured him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dirk said when Will had gone.

“We’ll find out,” Kat told him. They would; she just prayed it would be before anyone else died.

“Sherry Bertelli must have
imagined
she saw a mummy,” Dirk mused. “I think—”

“You know,” Kat broke in, “maybe Andy Simonton’s idea wasn’t so bad. I’m going to get you a drink. What’s your preference?”

“Scotch,” Dirk said. “A good shot of Scotch!”

She went to the kitchen and fixed him a drink. When she returned to the parlor with it, she sat across from where he perched on the sofa.

“I do miss Austin. So much,” he said. “We used to run this place, plan events, bring in speakers, write out invitations….”

“Speakers? Do you have other people involved—other than the list of forty members you gave us?” Kat asked him.

“Well, we have what we call ‘associates’—when they allow us to call them that,” Dirk replied. “Scholars, people in the field…people we find interesting. Adding names like that helps when you have events or you’re fundraising,” he told her. “We hold events to raise money for children’s charities. We’re quite a humanitarian organization.”

“I know. But could you get me a list of those associates? Before we leave tonight?”

He nodded. She rose, certain that she’d heard a car door.

She had. Opening the front door, she saw that Logan and her Krewe had arrived.

“We need to search a maze?” Logan asked. They’d come prepared; everyone carried a high-beam flashlight.

She quickly explained much of what had happened. “I’ll show you out,” she said, looking at Logan and indicating Dirk, who still sat on the sofa.

Kelsey walked past her. “I’ll stay with Mr. Manning,” she said. Entering the parlor, she greeted Dirk, reminding him that they’d met under sad circumstances. Kelsey was charming, as always, and Dirk seemed fine.

“Come on, I’ll take you out to the maze. Will’s already there.”

In the yard, she shouted so Will would hear her and know that the others had come. “I’m almost at the end to the right. So far, nothing!” he called back.

“We should be sticking together,” Logan said. “Tyler, you’re with me. Kat, hang with Sean.”

She followed the two men. It was hard going in the dark, and a little eerie, since at practically every turn there was a statue of a god or goddess in the form of whatever creature was usually linked with him or her.

She almost walked past a life-size marble Bastet. But something about it caught her eye and she walked back.

There was a pale smear at the base of the tail. She trained her flashlight on it.

“What is it?” Sean asked, circling back to her.

She dug in her pocket for an evidence bag and removed what she’d seen.

“What the hell?” Sean muttered.

“More of the gauze—or real mummy linen. Like the stuff we found on the wall at the hotel—and at Austin Miller’s house.”

* * *

There was nothing else in the maze. There was no real proof that the gauze was disintegrating fabric from thousands of years ago, but since the other pieces had proven to be just that, Will had little doubt that they’d found more of the same.

The night grew long. Because Chicago Homicide was now involved, Logan felt that they needed to at least report the evening’s strange events to Sergeant Jenson and the detective who’d been at the Preservation Center. Both officers arrived at the Egyptian Sand Diggers’ mansion and added notations to their records. Will meant to keep control of the piece of mummy evidence, and he was glad the officers were appreciative of being in the know—despite not being in control.

Jenson told Will, “I’m not sure what we’d investigate even if you handed it over to us. A woman who thinks she saw a mummy in the middle of a whacked-out memorial? Or a shred of mummy fabric at a clubhouse for Egyptian scholars?”

Jane called in a report to Logan from the hospital. Abel Leary, the guard who’d been shot, was still unconscious. He had fallen into a coma. Doctors were encouraged that his vital signs seemed stable, but he wasn’t yet capable of providing them with any information.

The crime scene techs had retrieved gunshot residue from Abel Leary’s hands, but that fact was being withheld from the public for the time being, as were the results of Dr. Amanda Channel’s toxicology report.

When they returned to the hotel, the Krewe members were exhausted. There was no meeting. Will and Kat had taken Dirk to his home to collect an overnight bag, and a room was found for him on the same floor as the agents. Then everyone retired for the night.

Kat seemed small and fragile, and when she headed for the shower, Will thought she might want to be alone. He drew out his notes, thinking that if he studied them for a while, it might lead to a better night’s sleep. He was surprised when Kat appeared outside the bathroom, clad only in a towel. “Too tired to join me?” she asked.

He looked at her and smiled. “Maybe one day. When we’ve weathered a few more very long days and nights together,” he answered. “But not yet.”

There was something about being together in the heat and steam of the shower that erased exhaustion. Maybe it was the wonder of life itself, the excitement of the sensations and feelings that could arise between two people.

Maybe it was finding a woman who was stunning and complex and beautiful beyond measure. A woman who’d found him, too. Making love in the shower seemed so natural, and when they were finally out and dry and in bed, sleep came quickly and easily. He woke up hours later, and she was cradled in his arms. He held her, just watching her. Watching her breathe and the rhythmic motion of her heartbeat. He felt her warmth, and he lay there for long moments savoring the feel of waking with her beside him, suddenly and perhaps ridiculously certain that this was the way he’d like to wake every morning of his life.

Then the alarm rang, and it was time to start the day.