11

“I thought I smelled coffee.” Daria came through the swinging kitchen door.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Connor looked up from the folder he was reading. “I’m used to getting up early.”

“I’d be crazy to object to someone making my coffee in the morning.” She smiled when she noticed the mug he’d left next to the pot for her. “Thank you. This was thoughtful of you.”

“Just as easy to make enough for two.” He shrugged without looking up. “Did you sleep?”

“Not really. I kept thinking about the break-in, and what happened to those people. But I was glad you were here.” She filled the mug and took a sip. “This is really good.”

“Thanks. You know I’m armed and can handle anything that might happen, right?”

“I really hadn’t thought about you being armed. I just figured you could handle it.” She paused. “Are you armed right now, this minute?”

He reached a hand behind his back and held up a black handgun.

“Oh.”

“Does it make you nervous?”

“Not as nervous as thinking about having my tongue cut out.”

He smiled and slid the gun back into the holster at the small of his back.

“Have you seen Sweet Thing?” Daria leaned back against the counter.

“I took her out earlier. She heard me moving around and came into my room, so I brought her down with me and we took a little walk. Last I saw her, she was sleeping on the top step.”

“She’s outside alone?” Daria frowned. “What if she runs away? Or chases someone?”

“She has been extremely well trained. When you tell her to stay, she stays.”

“You think she’s still there?”

“Go on. Take a look. I will bet you anything she’s still right there on the top step.” Connor slid several sheets of paper from the folder and appeared to be studying them.

“Anything?” Daria stopped halfway to the door. “You’re that sure?”

“I am.”

“Good. We’ll bet your car.”

“Wait a minute-”

“Hey, your idea.” Daria peeked out through the glass. The dog was standing on the top step, looking up at her. “And oh, my, that idea is certainly going to cost you.”

“You’re bluffing.” Connor was in the doorway behind her.

“You think?”

“If that dog wasn’t right there, you’d already be outside looking for her.”

“I’m that transparent?”

“Sorry, but yes.”

“Damn.” She opened the door and the dog came in, wagging her tail. “I did get your attention though, didn’t I?”

“Daria, you got my attention a long time ago.” He was leaning against the doorjamb, coffee mug in his hand.

She tried to think of something clever to say, but could not. When she realized she was blushing, she put her head down and fussed with the dog. By the time a response had come to her, he’d gone back into the kitchen alone.

“What is on your agenda today?” Connor was at the table, acting as if he had not just thrown a pitch she hadn’t bothered to take a swing at.

“I have a meeting with Louise in about twenty minutes.” Daria filled Sweet Thing’s water bowl at the sink.

“Then what?”

She shrugged. “Just work. I expect the museum will be a busy place with all the inspectors and insurance people, so I’ll work here. And since someone from the FBI is going to go after the missing artifacts, I can go about my business.”

“Which business is that?”

“Designing the exhibits. Deciding what to showcase, what should go where. How best to display certain pieces.”

“So you decided to stay.”

“I think I’ve known since day one I’d be staying. I guess I just wanted to believe I was making an intellectual decision rather than an emotional one.”

“What’s wrong with making decisions based on your emotions?”

“I’m a scientist,” she said, as if that should explain it. “Anyway, I’m eager to start. I need to put a lot of thought into how I want to present things. This will be the debut of Shandihar’s culture to the rest of the world, so I want to get it right. And I want to convey Alistair’s joy in having found the city. I want people to be able to see Shandihar the way he saw it.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It will be.” Her eyes darkened. “At least, it would be, if we didn’t have these murders…”

He placed the papers on the table before him in a neat stack. “Regardless of what has happened, you still have a job to do. You have a lot of responsibility. Getting the museum reopened is the goal, right? To help keep the school going?”

She nodded.

“Then focus on that, and only that.”

“I can’t. I thought about this a lot last night.” She sat across the table from him. “About Alistair and his search for Shandihar. Finding it. Packing up everything he could get his hands on and bringing it back here. He was so proud of himself, that he’d found a place that no one else believed existed. He couldn’t wait to show the world what he’d found. And then he died. Now that the university is finally going to display the Shandihar artifacts, once again, people are dying.”

“I thought you said Alistair died of a lung infection.”

“He did. But I was remembering last night that Iliana wrote in her diaries about several others connected with the expedition who’d died after Alistair. Three of his assistants died within the next two years.”

“How?”

“The same vague ‘lung disease’ that Alistair died from.”

“Maybe they all picked up the virus at the same time.”

She looked doubtful.

“Seriously. Think about it. They were all in the same part of the world together. They might have picked up a virus or some sort of bacteria.”

“And it lay dormant in all four men for two, three, or four years?” She shook her head.

“Right. I’d forgotten that Alistair returned to Howe two years before he died. And if the others died within two years, that would have been…” He tried to recall the dates.

“Anywhere from 1911 to 1912. My great-grandfather died in late 1910.”

“So what are you saying, Daria?”

“I don’t know. You’re the investigator. You tell me.” She stole a look at the clock. “I have to get going or I’ll be late for my meeting with Louise.”

She rinsed her mug out in the sink. “Thanks for the coffee. And for letting Sweet Thing out. I apologize for not being able to offer you breakfast.”

“I’ll pick up something later. I’m pretty resourceful.”

“Will you be here when I get back?” She paused with her hand on the kitchen door.

“Would you like me to be?” His eyes held hers for a long moment.

“Yes. I would.”

“Then I’ll see you later.”

“Great. See you later.” She pushed through the door and as it swung back, he called to her.

“Daria. Where are Iliana’s diaries?”

“Upstairs on the table next to my bed.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?’

“Not at all,” she called back as she unlocked the front door. “Go for it.”

Daria stepped out onto the front porch and drew in a deep breath of sheer mugginess. It had been years since she’d experienced an American summer in this part of the country, and she’d forgotten how oppressive the humidity could be. She had become accustomed to the dry desert air.

Instead of her usual work clothes-shorts and a T-shirt-she’d put on a khaki skirt that fell to her knees and a sleeveless cotton shirt because she wasn’t sure if anyone else would be at her meeting this morning. She hoped it wouldn’t be the bankers. Or the insurance people. She wouldn’t mind the contractors who were going to work on the building, though; she’d like to have some input if they were going to alter the interior design. She made a mental note to ask Louise about that. The Great Room had been perfectly designed for exhibitions like the one she had in mind. There was no need to mess with what worked.

Vita was on the phone when Daria stepped into the reception area. She waved Daria in, pointed to Louise’s open door, and mouthed the words, “Go on in, she’s waiting for you.”