Secret of the Ankhs: A Maggie Edwards Adventure (Maggie Edwards Adventures Book 2)

by Nellie H. Steele

  Also by Nellie H. Steele

  Maggie Edwards Adventures:

  Cleopatra’s Tomb

  Cate Kensie Mysteries:

  The Secret of Dunhaven Castle

  Murder at Dunhaven Castle

  Holiday Heist at Dunhaven Castle

  Shadow Slayers Stories:

  Shadows of the Past

  Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul

  Gone

  Duchess of Blackmoore Mysteries:

  Death of a Duchess

  Secret of the Ankhs

  A Maggie Edwards Adventure

  Nellie H. Steele

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by Nellie H. Steele

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Stephanie A. Sovak.

  Created with Vellum

  In loving memory of my grandfather, Edward HuWalt

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  A Note from the Author

  Shadows of the Past Synopsis

  Shadows of the Past Excerpt

  Acknowledgments

  A HUGE thank you to everyone who helped get this book published! Special shout outs to: Stephanie Sovak, Paul Sovak, Michelle Cheplic, Mark D’Angelo and Lori D’Angelo.

  Finally, a HUGE thank you to you, the reader!

  Chapter 1

  Maggie bustled around her shop, Maggie’s Books and Baubles Boutique. She adjusted items, dusted shelves and repositioned furniture.

  “Hey, how does this display look?” Maggie called over her shoulder to her assistant, Piper. She received no response.

  Maggie glanced back. Piper plopped on a stool behind the cashier’s counter. The music from her earbuds blasted, reaching Maggie’s ears across the shop. Piper scrolled on her phone, her head bobbing to the music. Maggie shook her head at the younger woman. She waved her arms in the air, failing to catch Piper’s attention from whatever she stared at on her phone’s display.

  Maggie trudged across the shop, halting on the opposite side of the counter. She set her mouth in a firm line, her eyebrows raised. Maggie stood for several seconds waiting to be acknowledged, her impatience growing by the millisecond.

  After a few breaths, Piper glanced up. She wrinkled her forehead and shrugged her shoulders at Maggie. “What?” she questioned after pulling an earbud from her right ear.

  Maggie’s jaw went slack for a moment. “Seriously?” she replied. “That’s your response? I asked you a question, and you didn’t even hear me with those things in! I have been standing here forever waiting for you to recall that you are at work!”

  Piper rolled her eyes at Maggie. “Take it easy, boss lady, I was just checking out a song someone sent me. I’m not keeping them in!” Piper removed the other earbud and stowed them in her backpack under the counter.

  Maggie pursed her lips. “You’re lucky you’re such a dependable worker overall, Piper.”

  “Aww, and here I thought you liked me,” Piper retorted.

  Maggie shook her head at Piper. “I do like you, Piper. Even though you’re maddening at times.”

  “Except at those times when I can open the shop while you run around the world with your new boyfriend on vacation.” Piper swiped the dust rag from Maggie’s hands, stuck her tongue out and flitted around the shop to dust.

  Maggie swung around, her mouth agape. “I was NOT on ‘vacation,’” she retorted.

  “What else do you call it when you travel the world?” Piper inquired.

  “Saving my uncle’s life is what I call it,” Maggie said, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows. “Oh, and finding Cleopatra’s tomb, by the way.”

  “And the other time you disappeared after that?”

  Maggie lowered her eyes to the floor and spun back to the counter, pretending to organize receipts. “I told you,” she murmured. “That was a business trip.”

  “Riiiiiiiiiight,” Piper said. “Three-week business trip with your new boyfriend. Uh-huh, sure.”

  Maggie preferred the subject to be closed without further discussion. “And my uncle, I remind you. Anyway, believe what you want.”

  “Any luck with hiring my assistant?” Piper questioned, referencing the “Help Wanted” sign hanging in the front widow.

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “The position is for a shop clerk, not your assistant, Piper. And to answer your question, no.”

  “Shop clerk to assist the assistant manager. An assistant to the assistant manager. Like on The Office.”

  “I thought you were night manager.”

  “I upgraded my title when you took off and I worked days.”

  “Ohhhh, right,” Maggie answered with a chuckle. “I forgot you upgraded your self-created, made-up title.”

  “Yes, I also had new business cards printed up to reflect the change in position,” Piper said with a wink. “So, what was wrong with the last batch of candidates?”

  Maggie sighed before answering. “Allison could only work every other Saturday from eleven in the morning until two in the afternoon.” Piper knit her brows, raising one eyebrow. “And Tom,” Maggie continued, “demanded a sixty-five-thousand-dollar salary with two weeks paid vacation and a four-day-per-week work schedule so he could ‘pursue his dream to become a painter.’”

  “Well, dang,” Piper answered. “Guess you’re learning how good you have it with me around, huh?”

  “You are a good employee, Piper. I have always known how good I have it,” Maggie assured her. Piper tossed her arms out to the side and spun in a circle before curtsying. “So…” Maggie said, changing the subject, “are you excited to go to the VIP exhibit opening party tonight at the museum?”

  “Mmmm, thrilled!” Piper said. Despite always sounding unimpressed with life, Maggie detected a glimmer of excitement in Piper’s voice. Maggie’s enthusiasm was also building. Almost one year ago, Maggie, in search of her missing uncle, along with Henry Taylor, her uncle’s associate, and several others, had found Cleopatra’s tomb deep in the sands of the Egyptian desert. The museum exhibit planned to showcase a smattering of pieces found within the walls of the tomb. The prospect of seeing the pieces again thrilled Maggie.

  “Are you taking what’s-his-name with you?” Maggie asked, searching her mind for the name of Piper’s latest beau. “Scratch, was it?”

  Pi
per shot Maggie a look, her eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a line. “Sketch,” she corrected. She returned her gaze to the shelf in front of her. “And no. We broke up,” she murmured.

  Maggie raised her eyebrows at this development. She loved relationship gossip. “Broke up?” she questioned.

  “Yep,” Piper answered, continuing her dusting, her work ethic suddenly multiplied.

  “What happened? He acting too… sketchy?” Maggie asked with a chuckle.

  “Wow,” Piper answered, spinning to face her. “You should take that act on the road, you’re hilarious.”

  Maggie gave her a wry glance. “I’ll admit, I’ve been holding on to that one. I mean, what kind of name is Sketch, anyway? What parent looks at their newborn baby and names him Sketch?”

  “Sketch is not his real name,” Piper admitted.

  “Oh, so it’s one of those made-up names to make him sound cooler than he is, huh? What’s his real name?”

  “Heathcliff,” Piper answered.

  “HEATHCLIFF?!” Maggie responded. “Like the cat?”

  “No, like his great-grandfather or something. I dunno. Anyway, we just didn’t see eye to eye on stuff. No big deal, we just lacked the same goals.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows, considering the statement. “Well, that’s a shame,” she answered. “But for the best if you didn’t fit together. So, are you going stag tonight?”

  “Nah, I found another date.”

  “Oh!” Maggie began to respond, about to ask who it was when the front door’s bell jangled, indicating the arrival of a customer.

  “Hi there!” Maggie greeted them. She and Piper spent the next two hours assisting customers as they browsed the shop. They were unable to return to the conversation. Maggie hoped to follow up on the new date discussion, but as the day waned and the hours ticked down to closing, the opportunity did not present itself.

  Instead, she found Piper ducking out the door as 5 p.m. approached. “Gotta run, boss lady,” Piper called. “Getting my hair did.” She winked and pushed through the door, nearly bumping into the person entering.

  Piper called an apology and kept going as Henry’s tall, muscular form entered the shop. Henry’s gaze followed Piper’s retreating form. He turned to Maggie; his forehead creased. “Was that Piper?” he joked.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Why?”

  “Did she just say she’s going to get her hair done?” Henry questioned.

  Maggie chuckled. “Yep, that’s what she said.”

  Henry glanced side to side before shaking his head. “Never thought I’d hear those words from Piper.”

  “She seems pretty excited about the exhibit opening tonight,” Maggie replied as Henry planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “Yeah? That doesn’t seem like Piper.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrow at Henry. “So, are you excited yet? We finally got Piper excited, are we two-for-two?”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “I’d rather skip the monkey suit.”

  Maggie swatted at him with the dust rag Piper discarded on the front counter. “You’ll look fantastic.”

  “In that dress you’ve got, no one’ll be looking at me, princess.” Henry winked at her. “And speaking of getting hair done, don’t you…”

  “Oh, SHOOT!” Maggie interrupted. “My hair appointment! I’m going to be late!” Maggie raced behind the counter, grabbing her purse darting toward the door. “Can you lock up, babe?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll lock up,” Henry called after her as Maggie disappeared through the door, the bell above it tinkling furiously as she flung the door open and shut.

  Maggie slid on her black satin mermaid gown. She zipped up the back and adjusted her skirt. She glanced in the mirror as she slid into her peep-toe heels. A knock sounded at the door to her apartment. “Coming!” she shouted. She fiddled with her earring as she raced to the door.

  Maggie flung it open and returned her attention to her second earring. “Good evening to you, too, princess,” Henry said as he entered.

  “Is it six-thirty already?” Maggie questioned.

  “No, I came fifteen minutes early to make sure you weren’t running late,” Henry admitted.

  Maggie rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not ALWAYS late,” she retorted. Henry scrunched his eyebrows together. “Don’t say anything.” Maggie hurried from the room. “I just need to put on my necklace, my lipstick, perfume and grab my purse.”

  “Fifteen minutes, princess!” Henry called after her.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Maggie mumbled as she pulled her twisted pearl necklace from its box. She fastened it around her neck, letting it fall into position, framed by her sweetheart neckline. Maggie swiped the perfume bottle from her dressing table, spritzing it on her wrists and hair. She dug through her makeup collection, searching for the right shade of lipstick.

  She pawed through tube after tube, a sigh escaping her lips after the tenth. A frown formed on her nude lips as she glanced in the drawer. “Tick tock, princess,” Henry said. Maggie glanced up into her mirror, catching his reflection. He leaned against the doorjamb; his tuxedo jacket slung over his shoulder.

  “I know, I know. I can’t find my lipstick!” Maggie exclaimed.

  Henry approached, staring at the growing pile of lipstick tubes on the dressing table. “Uhhhhh,” he began. “Aren’t all these lipsticks?”

  “Yes,” Maggie answered with a sigh, “but none of them are the right shade.”

  “Which is?”

  “Knock Me Dead Red,” Maggie replied, still digging in her drawer.

  Henry combed through the discarded lipsticks on the table. “Here we are.”

  “You found it?!” Maggie exclaimed, spinning to face Henry, a smile forming on her bare lips.

  “Yep,” Henry said, triumph filling his voice. He handed the tube to Maggie.

  “Oh,” Maggie sighed, deflated, “this isn’t it.”

  “Yes, it is,” Henry countered. He snatched it back and opened the tube. He twisted the lipstick up until it showed from the top. “Red, just like you wanted.”

  “No, no, no,” Maggie said with a shake of her head. “This is Bombshell Red, see?” She shoved the bottom of the tube toward Henry.

  “What’s the difference? It’s red and we’re going to be late.”

  “It’s too orange. I want a true red.”

  “How about this? Pucker Up Pink,” Henry suggested. He opened it and stared at it. “It’s, uh, pretty.”

  Maggie shot him a glance, answering without speaking a word. She returned to her search.

  “Took us less time to find Cleopatra’s tomb,” Henry muttered.

  “I heard that,” Maggie warned as she reached her arm as far into the drawer’s depths as she could.

  “Every shade looks nice on you, princess, just pick one.”

  “Ah ha!” Maggie pulled a tube from the drawer. “Knock Me Dead Red!” Maggie grinned, uncapping the tube and gliding the red shade across her lips. She smacked her lips together, checked her reflection, shoved the lipstick into her evening bag and leapt from her chair. “Ready! Now wasn’t this worth the wait?” She struck a pose.

  “You, princess, are always worth the wait,” Henry answered, slipping his jacket on and extending his arm to Maggie. “Shall we?”

  Maggie accepted his arm, and they strolled out to the car. “We’re not late,” Maggie said as Henry slid in behind the wheel. “So, don’t drive like a maniac.”

  “First, we are late, it’s after six-thirty. And second, when have you ever known me to drive like a maniac,” Henry contested, fastening his seat belt. Maggie’s eyes went wide, and her eyebrows shot up. “Don’t answer that,” Henry retorted, cutting off any reply.

  He fired the engine and pulled from Maggie’s apartment building’s parking lot. They arrived at the museum on the dot of seven.

  “See, on time, just like I told you,” Maggie said as they pulled up to the valet.

  “Eh, listen, mate, I’ll park it if you don’t min
d,” Henry called out his open window.

  “Just let them park it. I don’t want to walk from the parking garage,” Maggie groaned.

  “This car has a sensitive suspension and requires a skilled touch,” Henry argued.

  “So, uh, do you want me to park it or not?” the attendant questioned through the window.

  “Yes,” Maggie answered as Henry answered, “No.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes at him, popping her door open and exiting the car.

  “Just be careful with her, mate,” Henry said as he slid out from behind the wheel.

  Henry dashed around the rear of the car, catching up to Maggie who waited at the foot of the steps leading to the museum. A red carpet cascaded down the stone steps, greeting formalwear-clad VIPs. Flash bulbs burst every few seconds as press photographers captured pictures of event-goers.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sneak in the back entrance?” Henry questioned, gazing longingly after his car as the attendant pulled away.

  “Positive,” Maggie answered. “I didn’t search through twenty tubes of lipstick to sneak in the back door. Now come on, let’s pose for a few pics!”

  Maggie, who loved the spotlight, seized her moment to shine as she and Henry made their way toward the museum entrance. She stopped for several network photographers and spent a few minutes with various reporters answering questions about her part in finding Cleopatra’s tomb and her excitement over seeing the artifacts from the tomb on display in her hometown.