"Persephone, be good." Hutch's tone was only half jovial.
"I'm always good, Dr. Hutchinson." She nudged him and laughed. "Oh, come on. A harmless bit of fun. Have some wine and loosen up a little." She accepted the wine list from the waiter and ran a crimson nail down it.
Aleksi traded glances with both men; Bob managed a terrified smile, but Hutch's jaw was clenched. He looked angry. Aleksi took her napkin from her plate and clenched it in her lap.
"Let's see, Hutch is a vegetarian, so he'll probably order fish. Robert, you look like a red meat kind of man, am I right?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good. They do a prime rib here that's lovely. And Aleksi? Red or white?"
"Red, please." She kept her eyes fixed on her plate.
"And I'm feeling like lobster, so… Well, I suppose we better have one of each." She rattled off two wines that Aleksi had never heard of and handed the list back.
Dinner was only mildly hellish. Aleksi concentrated on her food, which was admittedly delicious, sipped her single glass of wine, and tried to listen without opening her mouth. Fortunately, with Persephone at the table, nobody else had to worry about carrying on a conversation. The woman chatted on subjects ranging from fashion, "That sweater is lovely, dear, but that blazer hides your figure," to cosmetics, "Your hair's so simply done. I know just the man to give you a proper do," to politics, "I had such high hopes for our new governor. Good breeding and all, but he's such an idiot when it comes to money!"
An occasional nod and smile kept Aleksi safely out of the conversation.
Then Hutch and Bob both left the table.
"So!" Persephone sipped her wine as Aleksi stared in horror at Hutch's retreating back. "Are you two fucking, or is this just a student-pupil relationship?"
"I…What? No!" Aleksi swallowed, her stomach clenching on her meal. She'd asked so casually, like 'pass the salt', it had caught her off guard. "We're not. He's my advisor."
"Well, that's a shame. You really should, you know." She finished her wine and put the glass aside. A waiter materialized to refill it. "He's very good in that department. There's always young Robert. He looks positively delicious, and you, my dear, are desperately in need of a good fuck."
Aleksi gaped again at the casual obscenity, then looked down at her plate. "I'm…not…"
"No? Well, that's a shame, too." She called for a desert menu. "You don't mind if I take Hutch home for a little fun, do you?" She bit her lip and cocked her head with the question.
"Um…no. I don't care." The woman's audacity astonished her, but Aleksi was recovering. Obviously, Persephone was trying to shock her, but why? Probably for the entertainment value. "I didn't know you two were still, um, involved."
"Oh, we're not." She made a gesture. "The last thing I need is another relationship, but I'm not the type to pass up an opportunity, and New Year's Eve was rather disappointing."
"Of course." She wondered if this was some kind of revenge for Hutch ditching her. There was no way she could tell Persephone that he actually hadn't left to meet her for work. Not if there was any hope of getting her to donate so much money for their cause. She wondered how far Hutch would go to secure that money.
"Well, that's settled then." Persephone sipped her wine and smiled at Aleksi as the men returned from the bathroom.
Aleksi passed on desert, unsure if her roiling stomach could handle anything sweet.
"So, I asked you out to bring up Aleksi's discovery." Hutch fixed Persephone with a businesslike stare. "You remember those pictures you saw at the New Year's party. The Russian journal?"
"Vaguely." Persephone flipped a hand. "Some kind of unknown sample hidden in the repository, wasn't it?"
"Yes. We'd like to work it up. You know, imaging and DNA analysis, to apply for a grant, but the museum has no money to spare."
"So that's what this is about." Persephone beamed. "You need money!"
"Not a lot. I wouldn't ask if time wasn't so important. Aleksi wants to use the find for her dissertation proposal, and that has to happen before the end of the semester."
"I tell you what." She sipped her wine and smiled. "You can pitch me the project during the ride home." She lifted her glass. "I've had too much to drive. You can drive my car, and the kids can take yours. That way, we won't ruin this lovely meal with shop talk. You brought a computer with the pictures, didn't you?"
"Um, yes." Hutch sounded uncomfortable.
"Perfect!" She swirled her wine and sipped as the waiter returned with three deserts and a coffee for Aleksi. "Ooo, chocolate and red wine. The two together are positively sinful, don't you think?" She speared the corner of a dark chocolate torte with her fork and took the bite into her mouth.
Aleksi sipped her coffee and tried to ignore the woman. Succubus indeed.
I'll call you later." Hutch lifted the laptop bag out of the back of his car and lowered his voice. "I may need you to rescue me."
"Should I bring torches and pitchforks?" Bob grinned and accepted the keys.
"Funny." Hutch tried to relax as he put his computer into the back seat of Persephone's Jaguar and got behind the wheel. The car smelled funny, some kind of air freshener or leather treatment that made him want to sneeze.
"Alone at last." Persephone rested a hand on his arm as Hutch shifted the car into gear. "Where shall we go?"
"I thought I was driving you home." He pulled out of the drive and merged with the slow winter traffic.
"If you want to. We could look over your proposal there, or find some nice little place to have drinks."
"Persephone, I don't think—"
"I don't want you to think, Hutch. That's what the drinks are for." She turned the heat up and unbuttoned her coat.
"I shouldn't have any more. Two glasses of wine is enough."
"Enough for what?" She reached out to run her nails down the back of his neck.
Hutch suppressed the tingle that ran down his spine. Enough to tolerate your company. He shrugged her hand off and craned his neck to change lanes. "Persephone, please. I'm driving."
"Oh, all right." She sighed and reached back between the seats. He couldn't help but glance down at her gaping dress. He knew she was doing it on purpose. "I'll check out your pictures while you drive." She sat back up with his computer in hand and a sultry look in her eye. He hoped she hadn't caught him looking. "Or, I could check something else out." Her nails brushed his thigh.
"Persephone!" He brushed her hand away, cursing the uncontrollable physical response to her touch.
"Oh, fine." She flipped open the tablet and stabbed the power button. "The man who sold me this car said driving it was better than sex, but I never thought he was serious." The screen came to life, lighting her in the passenger seat. "You sure you wouldn't like to try both at the same time?"
"I'm sure."
"Have it your way." She sighed and tapped keys. "You really should change your password occasionally."
"I will now. Thanks. The file's on the desktop. It's labeled 'Locktev Journal'."
"Got it."
He navigated through the maze of downtown, turned onto Tremont, passed Boston Common, and continued into Back Bay as she flipped through the pages. Persephone came from old money, and was never likely to sell the family home. He had loathed the place during their marriage, and she'd agreed to buy the condo in Cambridge. He'd gotten it outright in the divorce without a fight.
"These illustrations really are beautiful. This guy was an artist as well as a digger."
At least she was off the subject of sex. "Most naturalists were in those days. Cameras were few and far between, and barely portable."
"Where did you say this was from? My Russian is a little rusty."
"Kamchatka."
"And you really think it's something unusual?"
"It sure looks strange from the sketch on page seventy-three, but we don't know. DNA analysis should narrow it down. If it didn't get cooked from the ash fall, that is." He fell silent, and she didn't fill that void. He glanced
down occasionally, but she seemed engrossed in the journal. He turned onto her street.
"And how much do you need from me?"
"We asked the MCZ for twelve thousand to get things started. That includes CT scans and DNA analysis. The preliminary data, if it's promising, should get us a grant. I'll apply for enough to pay you back, so this would be a loan." He glanced again, and noticed she was looking at the illustration of the entire specimen. "Something, isn't it?"
"It is."
He pulled into her drive and held out a hand for her key card. She closed his computer and retrieved the card from her pocketbook, but instead of handing it over, she reached back between the seats again to put the tablet back in its case. He refused to look at her this time. She looked up at him as she moved back into her seat, looking disappointed. She held the card between two fingers.
"You're not driving anymore." She reached for his lap.
"No, Persephone." He caught her wrist and pushed her hand away.
"Then come in and have a drink with me while we…negotiate my donation to your worthy cause."
"I don't think so." He put her hand back in her own lap. "Not a good idea."
"Why not?" She reached back to run her fingers along the back of his neck. They were very warm, and he felt another tingle down his spine that sent blood rushing from his brain to all the wrong places. "I won't tell, and it'll do you good. I can feel all that suppressed energy built up in you. I'm just offering you a little release; no strings attached."
Hutch suppressed the surge of desire that burned through him, the urge to accept her offer, to take her right here in the car, then again inside. No! He gritted his teeth. Not gonna happen. "There are always strings attached, Persephone." He shrugged her hand away, and shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "You're an expert at strings."
"Strings, ropes, handcuffs, whatever." She gave him a sultry laugh. When he didn't respond, she went into pout mode. "Oh, come on, Hutch. It's not like you'd be plowing virgin soil, you know. When did you turn into such a prude?"
"I'm not a prude, Persephone. I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Because you're asking me for money, and having sex with me would make you feel like a whore?"
"Something like that."
"Then let's make it a formal agreement." She leaned in, her lips an inch from his, her chocolate-wine scented breath warm in his face. "Come inside and fuck me, and I'll write you a check for twenty thousand dollars. That'll make you the highest-paid whore in the city."
"And if I don't?" He glared at her, tempted to get out of the car and walk away.
"Maybe you can send over your little friend, Aleksi. She might put out for her dissertation if you won't."
"Persephone! That's…" He had no words to describe it, but she did.
"Blackmail? Dishonest? Immoral?" She flicked the key card under his nose and ran her hand over his crotch. "Incredibly tempting?"
He pushed her away and glared. "I'm sorry, Persephone, but no." He opened the door and got out of the car.
"You're kidding me!" Persephone stared in wide-eyed shock as he opened the back door and retrieved his computer. "Dwayne Hutchinson, get your ass back in this car!"
"No. I don't perform sex for money, Persephone." He slammed the door.
"Wait!" She was out of the car in a flash, her coat flapping in the icy wind. "Hutch, wait, God damn it! Forget it! Here!"
He turned back as she slammed her bag onto the top of the car and pulled out a tiny folded book of checks. A gold pen flickered in the security light as she scrawled something and ripped one free.
"Here! Take it." The check fluttered in the wind, Aleksi's dissertation ready to fly away if Persephone let go.
"This is a loan. I'll pay it back once we get a grant."
"I don't care, Hutch. Spend it on whatever you like." Persephone stepped forward and stuffed the check into his coat pocket. "No strings." She rounded the car and swiped her key card. The gate rolled open. "Drive the Jag home. I'll have someone come get it in the morning." She walked up the drive without looking back.
Hutch pulled the check from his pocket. It was made out to him for the sum of twenty thousand dollars.
"Persephone!"
She stopped and turned, clutching her coat closed. "What now, for Christ sake?"
"Thank you." He held up the check then put it in his pocket.
She shook her head and laughed. "Take me to lunch sometime!" She walked up the drive, and the gate closed behind her.
Hutch got back in the car, backed out of the drive, and drove half a block before he parked beside a snow bank and fished his phone from his pocket. He punched Bob's number.
"Hutch?"
"Yeah. We got it. Twenty thousand."
"Twenty thousand!" He heard Bob and Aleksi cheering over the phone. "Thanks Hutch!"
"No problem. Tell Aleksi I've scheduled imaging for Tuesday. We've got to arrange the movement of the sample. Tell her to get with Quinton. I'm taking Monday off."
"Great! No problem! G'nite Hutch."
"Good night." He ended the call, pocketed the phone, and pulled the Jaguar out into traffic.
Persephone punched up the slide show and slipped the remote control into her great grandmother's withered hand. "It's all there for you, Gi-gi."
"Yes." Her ancient fingers flexed, and the screens began to flick past. "You were very persuasive, my child. Thank you."
"I did my best." And still failed… She'd transferred the file to a stick while she perused the images in the passenger seat. Persuasion had nothing to do with it. In fact, the pheromone had failed her utterly. How Hutch had refused her, she had no idea. She'd used it before, and had men groveling at her feet.
Why did you do it, Persephone? Why try to seduce him? You had the damned files, just write him a check and stay friendly. But no, you had to call him a whore. Now he hates you.
She'd been asking herself that since walking up the driveway in the cold. She knew the answer; she was lonely, and when she didn't get what she wanted, she became petulant. The knowledge didn't make it any easier, and certainly didn't solve her loneliness.
She left the Sanctum and climbed the stairs to her own solitary abode. She found her nightgown laid out on her bed with elegant precision, a glass of seltzer water and two pills on her nightstand. In the morning she would be herself again, the powerful socialite ready to take Boston by the balls and get her way.
Right now, she felt like shit.
9
The word "disappointment" didn't quite cover it.
"Empty? What do you mean, empty?" Aleksi looked at Hutch and Bob, then at the imaging technician. "It can't be empty!"
"Look for yourself." The woman gestured to the screen where two images were displayed. "We got good penetration, but there's nothing inside. No bones, anyway. You can see the outline of the ash cast, but inside…nothing."
"Not quite nothing." Hutch instructed the technician to zoom in on one area of the image. "Look here; there are teeth, though they're faint, and you can see shadows here and that might be some jaw structure. It's not intact, but it's something. Fragments, maybe."
"But how could the bones just disintegrate like that?" Bob asked.
"Temperature," Hutch said with a grimace. "Some pyroclastic casts found in Herculaneum had nothing inside but splintered bone. The ash was so hot that the body fluids boiled and the bones fractured. If that's the case here, we're not going to get any DNA." Hutch squinted at the display again as Aleksi's heart sank; no bones and no DNA meant no project. "But I can't really see any detail here."
"Well, at this exposure…" They looked at the technician. "Sorry, but I had to punch through all that plaster and ash if you want to see anything at all."
"What about a CT?" Bob asked. "Even if we can't get a picture of the skeletal structure, we should be able to get a three-dee image of the ash cast outline."
"Good thinking."
Three frustrating hours later they had a picture of
what lay inside the block of plaster, or, more precisely, what didn't lie within.
"How can this have happened?" Aleksi peered at the confusing image. "It's like it completely crumbled to dust.
"I don't know," Hutch admitted. "The cast of ash formed and solidified before the tissues collapsed completely, so we have an outline. There should be bones, at least fragments, but it's like the entire skeletal structure just crumbled. Some reaction to heat and cold cycling, maybe. Not much left."
"We have the location of the dig from the journal. We could look at data from glacial cores as close as we can get to the site and correlate weather cycling data."
"Very good idea, Bob, but we need to date the sample to do that." Hutch squinted at the image and shook his head. "And there's not much left to do that with."
"Except for the teeth." Aleksi pointed to the points of white in the black field where the specimen's head had been. The shadows that Hutch had thought were the remnants of bone on X-ray, were now revealed to be nothing but crumbled layers of dust. But along the edges, imbedded in the ash, a few points of interest remained. "If we get anything at all, it'll be there."
"Not much to work with, I'm afraid." Hutch straightened his back with an audible pop and turned to the technician. "Can you compile a three-dee composite from these? We need a big picture to send back to the curator."
"Sure."
"You going to ask for suggestions?" Aleksi's hopes felt like they were crumbling to dust, just like the specimen had. "We can at least remove the plaster and get some samples for aging, can't we?"
"We can, but should we? If we remove the plaster, the entire thing could crumble."
"But if we don't, we've got nothing." There was a quaver of desperation in her voice that she hated. "I could expose the teeth and we might get some radiocarbon data. Morphology might give us a species, and maybe some DNA." Tooth roots and even plaque were treasure troves of genetic information.
"Let's bounce that off of Quinton first, Aleksi." He rested a hand on her shoulder for a moment, smiling in sympathy. "Their sample, their rules."
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