Conspiracy of Bones

by Tracy Krauss

  "Only half?" Mark asked with a small grin.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "Anthony," Mark said into the receiver. "How are things going at your end?"

  "Excellent," Anthony replied. "I am a genius, if I do say so myself."

  "Okay, genius, what have you got?" Mark asked with a laugh.

  "I’ve been able to keep tabs on everything - every scrap of so called data that Laura and John have used to put together their report on the site. It’s so full of holes it even smells like Swiss cheese. As soon as they publish, I’ll have a counter attack all ready to go."

  "Great. But will anybody be listening?" Mark asked.

  "Of course, cause here’s the good part. You ready?"

  "Spill it."

  "I’ve got verification from that Institute in Texas I was telling you about. They are very interested, and I mean, very - in backing our study and housing the archaeological display. As long as you can deliver the specimens, like you said, they’re all over it.”

  "Don’t worry about my end," Mark reassured. "You just make sure nobody else gets wind of this until we’re ready. I don’t want this to come out on anybody’s timetable but my own."

  "Got it,” Anthony said.

  "I’m actually pleasantly surprised to find out that there are some reputable institutions willing to go out on a limb for true scientific research. Not just try to fit things into their own narrow definition of what could and couldn’t take place."

  "Intelligent design is gaining in popularity," Anthony agreed. "Of course, this is an institution with a definite Christian bent. Hopefully, the world won’t be too put off by that factor."

  "We’ll take what we can get," Mark agreed.

  “Actually, while we’re on the topic, did I tell you that I visited my folks last week?" Anthony asked casually.

  "No you didn’t. Well, that’s good news."

  "Yeah… uh, did I tell you I kind of, like, rededicated my life to God?" There was silence on the other end. "Mark? Hello? You still there?"

  "I’m here," Mark replied curtly.

  "It’s not a curse, man," Anthony defended. "It’s actually pretty cool."

  "Well, just don’t let it go to your head," Mark cautioned. "I want that display strictly scientific. No reference to faith whatsoever. You got it? We want to remain credible, not be dismissed as a bunch of religious crack-pots."

  "Of course," Anthony replied. "I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the work we’ve been doing. You know that. Besides, you’re the one writing the dissertation, so what’s your worry?”

  “When you put it that way.” Mark consulted his watch. “Listen, I have to go. I’m helping my sister move into her own apartment and she’ll be expecting me.”

  “Me, too, man. Laura can be a real taskmaster. Keep in touch."

  Mark pocketed his cell phone and stood up. He would just as soon forget about Laura - and John, for that matter. And as far as Anthony’s new found faith, it hit just a little too close to home right now.

  He’d been feeling the draw of it himself, lately, despite what he’d said to Charlene and Tom. But it wasn’t something he would allow himself to succumb to. Not yet anyway. He had to keep his head clear and his mind focused on the task at hand. Vindication.

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  Mark arrived at his parents’ home just as Cory Rantt and Amy Walters were coming out of the house with Harmony’s double mattress. Harmony was bringing up the rear with part of the disassembled bed frame.

  "Here, let me help you with that," Mark offered, coming to take over for Amy. Their bodies brushed briefly as he secured his hold on the somewhat floppy cargo.

  They spent the next half hour making trips in and out of the house with boxes, suitcases and pieces of bedroom furniture. "There’s more room in these two vehicles than I thought," Harmony mused. "Maybe we can squeeze it all into one trip. Unless I find some other odd furniture that the parents wouldn’t mind getting rid of."

  "Better ask first," Mark cautioned.

  "You’re no fun," Harmony quipped with a grin. "I think I can fit the rest into my own car later. I’ll have to bring Mom’s van back anyway."

  "I can bring it back," Mark suggested. "I’ll have to come back for my vehicle when we’re through. Why don’t you just take your car now?"

  "Cause I want to ride with Cory in the truck,” Harmony stated matter-of-factly.

  "Oh. Right."

  "You and Amy can ride together in the van,” Harmony called, already jumping into the passenger seat of Cory’s borrowed truck.

  Mark got into the van and waited for Amy to get her seat belt fastened before backing out of the driveway. He was hyper aware of her presence, which was ridiculous seeing as they were just helping his sister move.

  "You know the way, I presume?” Mark asked.

  "I put it on my GPS.”

  The ride turned out to be less awkward than Mark had feared. They chatted about school, the weather and the Blue Bombers chances of winning the Grey Cup as Mark manoeuvred his way through the streets. Amy turned out to be a die-hard football fan and went to every home game the Bombers played.

  "I never would have guessed," Mark said with a laugh. "I mean, you just don’t look like the type to follow football that closely."

  "Are you kidding? My Dad is a Bomber fan from way back. He used to take me to games when I was just little. I thought you knew that."

  "I guess there’s lots we really don’t know about each other."

  "I guess," Amy replied softly and turned to look out her window.

  Mark glanced over at her for a moment. She really was very pretty. Soft and feminine - almost cherub like. And young. Very young. His jaw clenched slightly and he kept his eyes on the road for the rest of the trip.

  The foursome unloaded both vehicles expediently enough, hauling everything up the one flight of stairs into Harmony’s new one bedroom apartment. They were all exhausted by the time they were finished. Harmony flopped down upon the carpet.

  "You’re going to need more furniture," Mark mused, surveying the room as he lowered himself onto the floor.

  "You wouldn’t let me, remember?" Harmony stuck out her tongue.

  "We should have brought some drinks to put in the fridge," Cory said, still breathing heavily.

  "We can go out," Harmony suggested. "There’s a pizza joint just around the corner."

  "We should help you unpack a bit, first," Mark said.

  "Naw, I don’t feel like it," Harmony said, shaking her head. "I’ll do it tomorrow. Although it might be kind of nice to have the bed put together. Mark, why don’t you and Amy work on that while Cory and I get the entertainment system back together? The rest is all stuff I can do on my own."

  Mark agreed nonchalantly, although on the inside he felt decidedly awkward about the task. The last thing he wanted was to make up a bed with Amy Walters.

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  "And that’s when I burst out laughing and spit my coke all over him," Harmony finished her story with gusto. "Isn’t that right, Cory?" She leaned into him playfully as the others laughed. The foursome had gathered at the pizza restaurant as planned and were sitting in a booth. Mark had no option but to sit next to Amy - not that he minded - since Harmony and Cory were cuddled up across from them.

  "That still doesn’t explain why you started dating," Mark said. "Sounds more like a nasty cold shower to me."

  "Seriously, I felt so bad - I ruined one of his best T-shirts - so I had to start being nice to him," Harmony explained.

  "Instead of teasing him all the time," Amy added.

  "Funny I don’t remember any of that," Mark mused. "I mean, you two not getting along so well when you were younger."

  Harmony “shrugged. You were so much older and definitely too preoccupied. Or gone already.”

  "Right.” Mark looked down at his plate for a moment, feeling ancient.

  "You know," Amy said conspiratorially. "Maybe Cory didn’t mind all that much."

  Cory just
shrugged his ascent, and the rest of the group laughed. The good-natured banter continued, Harmony carrying most of the conversation.

  Mark snuck a sidelong glance at Amy. Her blonde curls framed her face and she was smiling and laughing easily. Definitely not affected by his presence the way he was being affected by hers.

  He turned back to the conversation and laughed along with Harmony’s next anecdote. He really needed to get a grip.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Hello," Mark said absently after picking up the receiver. He was actually much more interested in the information displayed on his computer screen and hoped who-ever- it-was would be quick.

  "Mark? Hi, how are you?"

  Mark blinked momentarily and then frowned as recognition dawned. "Laura?"

  "Who else? You haven’t forgotten me that quickly, I hope."

  "What do you want?" he clipped.

  "Goodness. That hardly sounded very friendly."

  He let out a pent up breath. "What were you expecting? We hardly parted on good terms."

  "True," Laura noted. "I thought maybe we could get past all that. John and I have almost finished up here. The exhibition is opening soon. I thought you might like to be there for it."

  "Exhibition?" Mark’s heart leapt in his breast. "I thought all the artefacts went back to Africa already."

  "Most of them did, but we’ve got great digital photos of everything and a power point presentation like no other. Amazing what one can do with technology these days."

  "I’ll bet."

  "So? You interested?"

  "What do you think?" Mark asked sarcastically.

  "You’re being very juvenile, Mark."

  "What?" Mark snorted. "I’m supposed to be happy about the fact that you sabotaged my work - you and someone I thought was my friend."

  "Better friends than you are to yourself," Laura countered. "In fact, you should be pleased that John and I took over when we did. Your credibility as an archaeologist is still intact. And, if it’ll make you feel better, your name is still very prominent in all the findings."

  "I don’t want my name associated with a lie," Mark grated.

  "Mark, be reasonable," Laura said, as if talking to a child. "Nobody is lying. It’s simply a different interpretation of the findings than what you wanted. But in the end, it’s the most plausible. I had hoped that you’d see that now that you’ve had a little time to think it through."

  "My time to think about it, as you say, has only convinced me that the international cover up is even more deeply entrenched than I thought."

  Laura laughed. "Now you’re sounding positively melodramatic."

  "Whatever."

  "In any case, I wanted to let you know that there are no hard feelings on this side of the border, and we would really like to see you at the opening, if you can see your way to coming. I… I miss you."

  "Don’t hold your breath."

  There was a moment of silence before Laura spoke again. "You never used to be so petty. So unfeeling."

  "Maybe you never really knew the real me.”

  "Apparently not."

  "Although, I must say, I’m surprised at you, as well, Laura. I never thought you could be bought so easily."

  "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "We both remember Sangeruka’s threats. But you don’t seem to be too bothered by that right now. I suppose your findings line up perfectly with whatever he told you to say."

  "That’s ridiculous," she scoffed. "Time and distance have put Sangeruka well out of the picture. Not to mention a change in authority back in Harare."

  "Oh?" Mark asked, his curiosity pricked.

  "I’m surprised you hadn’t heard. Sangeruka is out. We’re dealing with a much friendlier official now."

  "The man at the top is still the same."

  Laura sighed heavily into the receiver. "I forgot just how paranoid you’ve become. Look, sorry for bothering you. The invite still stands, in any case, not that I’m expecting anything."

  "Thanks, I guess."

  "Alright, then. See you around.” She hung up.

  Mark held the phone aloft for a moment before slowly lowering it. Definitely not the best start to his day, he mused. He went back to his computer screen, trying to regain his earlier train of thought. Easier said than done, apparently. The sentence he just read made absolutely no sense and he had to read it again.

  With a sigh he sat back and rubbed his eyes. How did he feel? Angry, betrayed… a bit nostalgic. That should be his presentation; his day in the spotlight. Instead, here he was holed up thousands of miles away, hoping that someone - anyone - would listen to his version of the story. And if he did tell it, would he be safe in doing so? Sangeruka’s threats still rang quite clearly in his head, no matter what Laura said.

  And what about her declaration that she missed him? Thankfully, he felt decidedly neutral on that score. If he’d ever had any feelings for Laura, they’d been put to rest. Unfortunately, he still had not reconciled his present feelings for a certain someone else or the wisdom of pursuing the object of his affections.

  The telephone cut abruptly into his thoughts. So it was going to be one of those days. With a sigh he answered it.

  "Mark, good news!" Anthony fairly panted with excitement on the other end of the telephone.

  "Yeah? What might that be?" Mark asked.

  "The faculty want you to be there for the opening of the exhibit." There was silence for a moment on the other end. "Mark? Buddy? You still there?"

  "I’m here."

  "So? What do you think?"

  Mark shrugged. "Big deal. I’m not coming. Besides, I knew that already."

  "You did?"

  "Mmhm. Laura contacted me earlier."

  "Laura?"

  "Yeah. She was very friendly - quite civil. She says they’re still giving me credit. Probably just trying to save face, since the whole archaeological community knows I was in charge of that dig. It wouldn’t look too good to let people know there was mutiny among the ranks."

  "And what did you say?" Anthony asked.

  "I told her to shove it," Mark replied. "In a manner of speaking."

  "I don’t know. We might be able to use this to our advantage."

  "Really? How do you figure?"

  "Got a minute?" Anthony asked.

  "I’m all ears," Mark said, sitting up straighter.

  "Let’s just say you accept the invitation," Anthony said. "All nice and legit, like. So when you do show up they can’t turf you."

  "I already told you I wasn’t going to that opening. Under any circumstances."

  "Even if it comes after your own presentation at the Institute in Texas?"

  "Just what are you getting at?" Mark asked.

  "They want the whole schpiel - you and whatever artefacts you’ve got." Anthony hesitated a moment. "You did say you had some actual artefacts?"

  "Yes.”

  "We’ll have to keep your dissertation under wraps as much as possible. They’ve already agreed not to mention your name in any of their publicity until after the event. I told them it would add to the hype and all that. People are so gullible these days. Always looking out for whatever will get them the most dollars."

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a minute! You’re getting way ahead of me, here, buddy," Mark blurted. "Sounds like you have the whole thing planned. And what’s this about dollars?"

  "Oh, I told them you had an anonymous sponsor that was willing to fund the project under the condition that the publicity was low key until after the opening," Anthony explained.

  "Great. And just who might that be?"

  "I’m still working on it," Anthony replied easily.

  Mark sighed. “I’m not liking the sounds of this.”

  "Don’t sweat it. I’ve got it all under control. Besides, now that I’m a Christian and all that, would I lie to you?"

  "You’re really not making me feel any better," Mark replied. "Okay, so then what? We present our findings in Texas,
the world gets a hold of it and…? "

  "Your name gets attached, then you show up in New Mexico - if they still have the balls to go through with their presentation - and kind of rub their noses in it."

  "Or start one hell of a law suit."

  "A bit of controversy never hurt anyone."

  "So says you," Mark replied.

  "Okay. Difference of opinion never hurt anyone," Anthony conceded. "Dialogue is healthy."

  There was silence on the other end of the phone as Mark considered everything Anthony had said. "You think we can be ready in time?" he finally asked.

  "Ready when you are," Anthony replied. "How soon can you pack?"

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  Mark’s telephone rang. Again. He sighed and thumped his desk with his fist. This was getting down right ridiculous. Just how many phone calls were going to interrupt his train of thought in one afternoon? He glanced at the call display. Harmony. She usually wouldn’t be put off.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi. I hope you’re not busy this evening because I’ve made plans for you to join Cory and me. It’s our anniversary.”

  Mark pinched the bridge of his nose and adjusted the phone to the other ear. "That’s silly, Harmony. It seems to me that a nice romantic dinner for two is more appropriate for your anniversary, don’t you think?"

  "But that’s just it. It’s a surprise, and I need you and a bunch of other people there so Cory doesn’t suspect."

  "Look, I’m really busy, okay?" Mark tried again. "It’s been a crazy day all around and I’ve got some pretty important new developments to work on.”

  "But poor Amy! This will make her feel terrible," Harmony wailed.

  "Amy?" Mark repeated curiously. "Why will she feel terrible?"

  "I told her you’d be there to kind of look out for her, you know?"

  "No, I don’t know. What on earth are you talking about?"

  "Well, there are a bunch of other people coming that she doesn’t really know that well, except for this one guy that I know has a crush on her. The only problem is, she can’t stand him. She was afraid he would be trying to hit on her all night, or something, but I said you’d be there for her to talk to and that she could kind of, pretend like you were kind of going out or something."