Riddle Of The Diamond Dove (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 4)

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Riddle Of The Diamond Dove (The Arkana Archaeology Mystery Series Book 4) Page 26

by N. S. Wikarski

A feeble spark glimmered in Maddie’s eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely,” Erik affirmed.

  “We can’t wait to tell you all about it,” Griffin added enthusiastically.

  The Chatelaine seemed to rally slightly. She struggled to sit forward.

  “After you’ve had a shower and changed your clothes, of course.” Faye’s voice was more insistent.

  “Sure, sure,” she said nebulously, struggling to her feet.

  Erik and Griffin leaped up to assist her.

  Faye conducted her to the bathroom while Cassie dug through the closet for a clean change of clothes.

  Once Maddie was safely deposited in the shower, the others sprang into action. Cassie ran around the house raising blinds and opening windows to release the residual smoke.

  Griffin and Erik found a supply of garbage bags and began collecting used food containers and wine bottles. They emptied all the ash trays and cleaned up the other detritus of Maddie’s fugue state. Faye washed the dirty dishes in the sink and tidied the kitchen.

  By the time the Chatelaine lumbered back into the living room, she looked almost human. Her hair had been combed and she was dressed in a clean sweat suit and gym shoes.

  “I’ll start a load of laundry,” Cassie suggested, scampering upstairs to collect Maddie’s cast-offs and any other clothing she found strewn on the floor. When she returned to the living room, Faye was already pouring cups of freshly-brewed coffee.

  Nobody uttered a word of objection when Maddie asked, “Mind if I smoke?”

  Erik dove for the lighter on the coffee table and held it under her nose. “Let me get that for you,” he offered.

  “How do you feel now, dear?” Faye asked gently.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” the Chatelaine replied in a sing-song voice. “How are you?”

  Her four visitors looked at one another in dismay. Cassie could read their minds. They had all secretly hoped that Maddie would have revived by now but she still seemed disconnected.

  Erik leaned over and whispered confidentially in the Pythia’s ear, “Relax, toots, I got this.”

  The Paladin slid to the end of the couch next to Maddie’s chair. “I’m glad you’re feeling better now, chief, because there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “Oh, what’s that?” Maddie asked dreamily.

  “Well, you see, there was this car chase in Cairo when we were trying to outrun the Nephilim. I crashed a rental car right through the plate glass window of a butcher shop. Live chickens flying everywhere. The owner was really mad. I told him we’d cover the damages. He said it would cost, what was it Griff? Something like fifty thousand dollars US?” The Paladin looked to the Scrivener for confirmation.

  Catching on, Griffin replied, “Actually, I think the bill was closer to one hundred thousand dollars.”

  Erik turned to Maddie. “I told him it would be no problem. You’ll cover it, right?”

  For the first time that day, the Chatelaine seemed to focus. She sat up straight, her eyes burning holes into Erik. “A rental car?” she growled.

  “That’s right,” he replied innocently.

  “Was the car totaled?” Her voice held a menacing tone.

  “Totally.” He mimicked puzzlement. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

  “Not a problem...” she echoed through gritted teeth, grinding out her half-smoked cigarette and reaching for a full pack on the table. Immediately lighting up another, she continued. “If you think I’m gonna cover yet another one of your reckless escapades, think again, kiddo! I’ll be docking your pay until the day after Armageddon!”

  Instead of flinching at the onslaught of Maddie’s wrath, Erik beamed at his teammates. “She’s back!”

  Maddie, not realizing that Erik had fabricated the incident, continued to berate the Paladin for several more moments. He took it all with a relaxed smile.

  During the Chatelaine’s tirade, Cassie leaned across the table and whispered in Faye’s ear. “You said Maddie went off the deep end years ago. Is this episode worse than what happened way back when?”

  Faye’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Oh no, dear. Last time she tried to blow up the Vault.”

  Chapter 51—Crossroads

  Daniel grew exasperated by the sea of traffic in which he found himself drowning. He looked at his watch fretfully. He was becoming used to expressway congestion while driving into the city but this was the middle of the afternoon. He drummed the steering wheel impatiently. Finally, throwing the car into park, he allowed his thoughts to drift. They turned inevitably to the events of the past two days. His father had returned home yesterday evening to regale him with Hunt’s account of the retrieval in Sudan. Daniel chuckled at its dramatic license. The cowboy had invented quite a yarn to cover his humiliating defeat. He was a combat-seasoned veteran who had been bested not once, but twice, by a girl half his size. No doubt if the Diviner ever found out the truth of that encounter on the mountain he would fire Hunt immediately. It made sense that the cowboy would try to preserve his job. Yet Daniel harbored the sneaking suspicion that Hunt was even more protective of his battered pride.

  Fortunately for the Scion’s sake, Hunt had also glossed over Daniel’s final conversation with the trio. Perhaps he’d been stunned into unconsciousness and didn’t remember. That was just as well. Daniel’s concern for the safety of his rivals would have been hard to explain either to the cowboy or to his father.

  The Scion glanced briefly at the portfolio of photos sitting on the passenger seat. This newest relic puzzle would have to wait. Today Daniel had earned a well-deserved break. Of course, his father didn’t know that. His father thought he was going right back to the library to begin the next phase of his research.

  Abraham had given him a resounding lecture about future contact with Chris. Apparently the librarian had made quite an impression on his father. In all probability, the reverse was equally true. During one of their early conversations Chris had confided that his own father was as autocratic as Abraham.

  “How do you manage to deal with him?” Daniel had asked in wonderment.

  “It was easy,” Chris had replied. “All I had to do was wait for him to die and eventually he did. My life got better after that.”

  Daniel’s attention returned to the present. He shifted into drive. Traffic was crawling forward a few feet at a time and his exit was coming up next. He signaled to move to the right lane. After nosing his car onto the off ramp, traffic stopped once more. Again he switched to the parking gear and allowed his mind to drift.

  Even being stuck in traffic was preferable to the hornet’s nest at home. While he was overseas, Annabeth had disregarded his admonition to treat her sister-wives with respect. The bigger her belly grew, the more overbearing her attitude. The minute he’d entered his quarters after his journey, his other two wives pounced on him with a barrage of complaints about Annabeth. He soothed their injured feelings as best he could and promised to speak to his new Principal Wife. Of course he knew that the ensuing conversation would be about as useful as talking to a wall but he made the promise anyway.

  The car behind him honked. He’d been daydreaming a bit too long. The car in front was already at the intersection. He speeded up to keep pace. Now, of course, he had to navigate downtown street traffic. He was rather proud of his ability to manage it considering that a year earlier he couldn’t drive at all. So much had changed during that time.

  Daniel looked down self-consciously at his apparel. Lately he had taken to bringing a change of clothes in a duffel bag whenever he left the compound. After a quick stop at the tollway oasis, he exchanged his Nephilim “undertaker suit” for something more fashionable. Today he wore a European cut dress shirt fitted through the middle. The salesman told him the fabric was French viscose. He’d never felt anything so silky against his skin before. The Nephilim favored scratchy textiles made of wool and flax. Not very different from the hair shirts which medieval ascetics used to wear to mortify the f
lesh.

  The viscose shirt was a pale shade of salmon. Not a Nephilim color at all. Daniel wore it with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons open at the neck. In a daring move, he added a slender gold chain around his throat. He still didn’t have the nerve to wear any flashier kind of jewelry. His legs were clad in his very first pair of blue jeans. They were stone-washed and felt as soft against his skin as the viscose shirt. His father would be horrified at his apparel. The thought made him smile.

  His car inched up to the next stoplight. He’d hit a red light on every corner so far. Absently, he watched the pedestrians scurrying across the intersection. He wondered where they were all going with such focus and determination. Each one appeared to be on a mission. Their expressions were tense and worried. At least he could relate to that. Tension and worry were old friends of his.

  It was the curse of Daniel’s conscientious nature that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Admittedly, the burden had diminished somewhat now that he knew that the trio of thieves was still alive. He recalled his prophetic dream about them. For the first time, he focused on the words they had spoken in his vision. “A man cannot serve two masters.” He sat bolt upright when he also recalled Cassie’s final words to him in Sudan. Wasn’t it almost the same idea? “You need to get off the fence and pick a side.”

  He accelerated to clear the intersection before the light changed again. Only one more turn to go. He waited at the next stoplight. Thinking about Cassie’s comment once again, he felt a surge of indignation. Just because he was willing to protect her and her colleagues didn’t mean he had suddenly changed his allegiance. He simply didn’t approve of murder, that was all. Turning his back on the only world he had ever known was too much for her to expect. The prospect terrified him. Daniel rubbed his forehead confusedly. No matter what his deliberate intention might be, he could feel himself slipping a little more each day. Out of the world of the Nephilim and into the world of the Fallen. In the war he was fighting with himself, had his unconscious mind already chosen sides for him?

  He aimed the car up the parking garage ramp. His attention was temporarily diverted by the need to find a space and then navigate his way to the address he’d been given. He glanced at his watch again nervously.

  Rounding the corner, he saw Chris seated at an outdoor restaurant table scanning a menu. The librarian smiled and rose when Daniel walked up to him. He unexpectedly gave the Scion a warm hug of greeting. Daniel found himself awkwardly returning the embrace.

  Chris held him at arm’s length, studying the Scion’s apparel with a practiced eye. Finally he gave a nod of approval. “This works. You’re learning how to put a look together.”

  They both sat down.

  “So, was it a good trip?” Chris grinned, inviting confidences.

  Daniel, as usual, found himself dazzled by the brilliance and warmth of that smile. “I didn’t get killed,” he said diffidently. “I suppose that makes it a good trip.”

  “You get to travel the world and all you can say is ‘I didn’t get killed’.” Chris shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a real homebody, aren’t you?”

  “Not home,” Daniel corrected gently. Then he added with a shy smile of his own, “Here with you. That’s where I wanted to be all along.”

  Chapter 52—A Tame Wild Card

  After another pot of coffee and several more cigarettes, Maddie was back to her usual self. The familiar spark gleamed in her eyes by the time she turned to Cassie and said, “So what about this epic artifact retrieval you were going to tell me about?”

  Cassie looked at her teammates. “Who wants to start?”

  “I think I’ve said enough for one day,” Erik demurred.

  “Griffin?”

  “I respectfully decline. Since you risked life and limb, I think the honor should be all yours.”

  “Life and limb?” Maddie challenged.

  “Yeah, I was hoping to avoid leading with that topic,” Cassie balked. Addressing her question to Faye and Maddie, she asked, “What’s the last intel you got about us?”

  Maddie paused to ponder the question. She frowned in concentration. “Wow, that talking softball really did a number on my head. Faye, do you remember?”

  “I believe our last communication was from Khartoum. You had just duplicated the artifact and were en route to place it in the cave at Jebel Barkal.”

  “You better tell them, toots,” Erik urged.

  Cassie sighed. “Well, we were about to put the fake in the ceiling of the cave when something unexpected happened.”

  “Define ‘unexpected’,” Maddie commanded.

  The Pythia recounted the story of the smugglers and her unholy alliance with Leroy Hunt. Without stopping for breath, she forged through the rescue and her trick to disable Hunt a second time. She paused long enough to glance hopefully at Maddie and Faye. They both appeared stricken and, for several seconds, speechless.

  Maddie shook her head. “You are the craziest Pythia we’ve ever had.”

  “I know, right?” Erik looked to his boss for confirmation.

  “We owe her our lives,” Griffin reminded him reproachfully in a low voice.

  “My goodness,” was all Faye could say.

  The Chatelaine reached for the coffee pot and poured another serving for everyone. “Well, this certainly complicates things.”

  “The Nephilim know you’re all alive,” Faye observed.

  Cassie shrugged. “But we still have a couple of advantages. They think they’ve got the real artifacts which will give them a false sense of security. Besides, if they assume we’re depending on them to figure out the clues, they’ll be watching their backs pretty closely. They’ll expect to find us behind them.”

  “All we have to do,” Erik added, “is get far enough ahead of them so our paths don’t cross.”

  “Of course, we’ve never yet succeeded in accomplishing that goal,” Griffin remarked dryly.

  Faye and Maddie exchanged concerned glances.

  “You’ve upped the ante for the next retrieval, that’s for sure,” the Chatelaine said.

  “My dears, you’ll need to exercise even more than your usual vigilance from this point forward,” Faye agreed.

  “It might not be as dire as you think,” Cassie offered.

  They all stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

  “We’ve got a wild card in the mix now,” she said. Realizing that none of them understood, she elaborated. “Daniel. That dude is seriously messed up. He’s inches away from the brink.”

  “How so?” Faye asked.

  “He sure didn’t seem happy to be working with Hunt,” Erik answered. “In fact, he didn’t seem to want any part of the mission.”

  “I see.” The Memory Guardian nodded her head and lapsed into silence.

  “See what?” Maddie peered at her.

  Faye smiled. “His ambivalence is a weakness in the Nephilim armor. I’m sure their Diviner has no notion that his son isn’t fully invested in the scheme. Before our quest is over, Daniel’s ethical crisis may work to our advantage.”

  “The only problem with moral epiphanies is that they rarely operate on a schedule,” Griffin said. “We have no guarantee that Daniel will see the light in a timeframe that’s convenient for us.”

  “Maybe we can give his conscience a push,” Cassie suggested. “Hannah could help us. I’ll talk to her. She knows Daniel pretty well. She was even married to him for about ten minutes. If I can find out from her what makes this guy tick, we can figure out a way to motivate him to do the right thing.”

  “It’s certainly worth a try,” Faye agreed. “But do proceed gently. Don’t badger the poor child. She’s been through so much.”

  “Kid gloves, I promise,” Cassie said. “No pun intended.”

  “Now that that’s settled, maybe we better get on to the main event,” Maddie suggested. “Where’s the relic?”

  “I’ve got it right here.” Cassie retrieved her backpac
k which had been stashed beside the sofa. “It was sitting on your desk in the Vault. That’s where we told our operatives in Sudan to send it. I thought it might be a good idea to bring it with us today.”

  Erik stood up and gave the Chatelaine a quizzical look. “Before we talk about that, do you have anything to eat around this place? Interventions can work up a man-sized appetite.”

  Chapter 53—Clean Getaway

  Now that the doodad was stowed away somewhere in Abe’s compound, Leroy was eager to get back on Hannah’s trail. The day after his meeting with the preacher, he decided to have his long-delayed chat with Miz Rhonda. He’d been monitoring the feed from the antique shop remotely while he was overseas. At least as often as he could find an internet connection in whatever hellhole they happened to be staying. His ability to connect was patchy but he was able to get through often enough to reassure himself that nothing had changed.

  Miz Rhonda was back on the job. None the worse for wear judging by her appearance. The usual customers came and went. Miss Lupe still managed the operation a couple days a week and ragged on her boyfriend every time he called the shop. Nothing out of the ordinary to raise a red flag.

  The cowboy had a mind to change that same old, same old in a big way. He was still smarting from the shellacking he’d taken at Miss Cassie’s hands and was itching for some payback. He left late in the day for the antique store. He wanted to time his arrival just as the shop was about to close for the night. It wouldn’t do for customers to be hanging around while he was trying to get some info out of Miz Rhonda. He grinned at the thought of her reaction. Since he’d been out of sight for so long, his unexpected return would send her into a tizzy. Maybe the shock would be enough to make her spill the beans. So far, he hadn’t gotten a glimpse of who her partners in crime were. He might be able to shake that out of her tonight too —one way or another.

  The Gold Coast high rises were casting long shadows when Hunt turned down the avenue where the antique store was located. He parked across the street and climbed out of his truck, anticipating some fun. What he saw left him blinking in astonishment. He just stood on the curb, slack-jawed and uncomprehending.

 

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