No Living Soul

by Julie Moffett

  Chapter Twelve

  Slash and I left an hour early for work the next day. We had a lot to wrap up before our flight to Egypt later that afternoon. While most of my work involved X-Corp, I did take time to do some digging on Elvis’s father. Finding him had to be our utmost priority.

  I started more than a year prior to when he’d started his sabbatical from Oxford. I counted three separate trips to Cairo. Two that lasted a week and one that lasted ten days. He’d also taken several longer trips during the summer break. He went to Israel on two separate occasions, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and Egypt again. He had hopscotched across the Middle East. But why? What trail had he followed to find that elusive artifact?

  Since Egypt seemed to be his final destination of choice, and Cairo the city, I tried to determine what his connection to the city might be. There were a lot of choices, but, after short consideration, the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities and the Coptic Museum topped my list. Now that was settled, I’d have to do a little hacking. I closed the door and booted up my personal laptops. I took careful steps to hide my location and then began a penetration of the Egyptian Museum database. It was surprisingly easy. Not that it held national security secrets, but given the amount of world treasures located there, I almost felt compelled to offer my services pro bono to help protect the information on these priceless artifacts. Maybe someday I would.

  Pushing that thought aside for the time being, I started my search for any mention of Arthur Zimmerman. Seconds later, his name popped up. He had been registered on dozens of occasions as visiting the museum in an academic capacity, examining various exhibits. I pulled up records from as far back as ten years earlier, which indicated he’d been coming to the museum regularly. I tried to find any rhyme or reason to the different exhibits he visited, but it was outside my area of expertise and I couldn’t discern any particular pattern.

  A penetration of the Coptic Museum showed only three visits in the past year, not nearly as many as to the Egyptian Museum.

  I finally closed up those avenues of exploration and got back to my real job. I’d only been at it for just over a half hour when Basia strolled into my office, fire in her eyes.

  “You are so not going to Egypt.” She put both hands on the corner of my desk and glared at me.

  I took off my computer glasses and set them next to my laptop. “I am. And so is Slash. We’re looking out for Elvis. You want him to come back to the wedding on time and in one piece, right?”

  “I don’t want him to go in the first place. Talk him out of it.”

  “How exactly am I supposed to do that? He’s a grown man. He’ll do what he wants. This is between Elvis and his father. I can’t stop him, Basia. The best I can do is help him.”

  She sighed and sat in my visitor chair. “Why does Elvis even care? This is a man who hasn’t given a damn about his family for fifteen years.”

  “Thirteen, but that’s semantics at this point. What’s important is their father has uncovered something potentially dangerous.”

  “Xavier told me about the man with the gun who accosted you and Elvis at the house. Is that a part of this?”

  “It’s exactly about that. I’m not saying any more. I don’t want you to know the details for your own safety. My advice is for you and Xavier to avoid staying at the house while Elvis is gone. I know the guys will have every security measure in effect, but it would still make me feel better.”

  “This is all their father’s fault. I think he just wants to wreck our wedding.”

  “I’m not even sure he knows about the wedding.”

  “But Elvis does and he’s going anyway. The wedding is just over a week away. One week. How could this happen?” She looked close to tears and I fought back the panic.

  “Basia, you’ve got to calm down. I really don’t think this is an effort by Mr. Zimmerman to ruin the wedding. I promise I’ll have Elvis back in time for the ceremony. You have to trust me. Neither of us is going to miss it.”

  She sniffed. “But if you’re in Egypt, who’s going to come with me for my final wedding dress fitting?”

  “What about Bonnie? Or one of your cousins? Or better yet, your mom. Fly her out for the occasion. Besides, let’s be honest with each other. Seeing as how this is the final fitting of the dress and absolutely nothing can go wrong, isn’t it better that I’m not there?”

  She smiled for the first time since she’d come into my office. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting.”

  * * *

  I left the office shortly after two and detoured to Elvis’s house. I pulled up to the curb and hopped out, checking the shrubs for any lurkers. When all appeared clear, I rang the bell.

  Elvis answered the door in frayed cutoff jean shorts and a white T-shirt. He looked over my shoulder and both ways down the street before letting me in. “Hey, Lexi. What’s up?”

  “I have a couple of questions.”

  “Sure. Go on into the living room. I’ve got to put in the last load of laundry and I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “Sure, okay.”

  I wandered into the living room and stopped when I saw a young girl sitting on the couch, a laptop balanced on her lap. Her red hair was pulled into a long ponytail and she wore shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt with something written on it. I couldn’t see what it was because of the way she was hunched over the keyboard.

  She looked up from the laptop and gasped when she saw me. “Oh, God.”

  “Oh God, what?” I looked down at my shirt. Had I spilled something? Was my bra strap showing?

  “It’s you. Lexi Carmichael.”

  I gave her a wary glance. “Yes. And who are you? Why are you in Elvis’s house?”

  “I’m Angel. Hasn’t he told you about me?”

  Of course he hadn’t. Apparently this was becoming the norm. He hadn’t mentioned Gwen, the letter from his father, or the black plague until now. So, why would he tell me about a red-haired teenager named Angel, who apparently had free roam of his house?

  “No, he hasn’t mentioned you.” I studied her. “Is Angel your real name or a nickname?”

  “Real name.” She grinned. “Because I’m all angelic and stuff. Nice to meet you, Lexi Carmichael. In case you’ve heard of me, my online moniker is ArchAngel007. Get it? 007—James Bond? I’m the leader of the Lexicons. We’re based on Tumblr, but we also have a presence on A03 and Instagram. Let me know if you ever want to stop by and say hi to your fan base. I’d be happy to arrange it. They’d love it.”

  I stared at her, horrified. “What did I do to deserve this?”

  Elvis strolled in and put a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, Lexi. I see you’ve met Angel.”

  “Who’s Angel?” I could feel my blood pressure rising. “And why exactly is she in your house?”

  Elvis plopped down on the couch beside her and leaned over to see what she was doing on the computer. “She’s Gwen’s kid sister. Gwen dropped her off while she finished up some shopping at the mall for the trip.”

  I studied Angel and could see the resemblance now. The rare red hair and blue eyes combination. Not to mention the fangirling.

  Ugh.

  Angel tapped some keys and then shifted her laptop aside. She stood and stretched. I could see the writing on her T-shirt now. It said On the Third Day God Created the Undo Button.

  “It’s ace to finally meet you, Lexi.” She gave me a big smile. “Actually, it’s beyond ace. I was there at the high school when you, Wally, Piper, Brandon, Elvis and Slash saved us from those crazy terrorists. You were, like, so amazing. Girl power all the way. I bow to your geekiness. I kneel in front of your cyber knowledge. I prostrate—”

  “Whoa.” I held up a hand. “Stop. Seriously.”

  She grinned and her smile reminded me of Gwen, too. It also occurred to me that despite t
he fangirling, Angel might be teasing me...just a little.

  “By the way, Piper says hi,” she added. “She’s a Lexicon, too.”

  Piper was one of the three students I’d worked with at the high school during the dangerous siege. She and two other students, Wally and Brandon, were currently my interns at X-Corp.

  “Piper and I are going to have to have a serious talk,” I said. “Wait. How is it possible that you even know Piper?”

  “Duh. She’s one of my closest friends at school. Geeks stick together. You should know that.”

  “You aren’t in high school. You can’t possibly be more than thirteen.”

  “Hey, I’m almost sixteen. I just look young for my age.”

  I understood that, having just posed as a high school student about six months earlier. But still, wow, she did look young for her age.

  Elvis grinned. “Angel is finishing up her junior at Excalibur, which is how she knows Piper, Wally and Brandon. She has been pushed ahead a year. She’s a pretty smart kid.”

  “Not pretty smart, really smart.” Angel put her hands on her hips. “Not bragging, just keeping it real. I already have fifteen college credits at Georgetown.”

  She stretched out a hand to shake mine. I paused and then shook it reluctantly. Not because I wasn’t impressed by her smarts. I was. It’s just I’d met too many new people in too short a time, and some of them needed a definite redirection of their misguided fangirling. I needed quiet time to process and sort everything out in my head. Right now a headache was brewing behind my eyes.

  Elvis cocked his head and glanced at me. “So, Lexi, why did you stop by?”

  Before I could answer I heard a yipping noise from the stairs. A small white dog about the size of a shoebox came tearing down the stairs and slid sideways, paws scraping at the wood floor. The body straightened and headed like a projectile directly toward me. I’m not proud to admit it, but I put the fifteen-year-old girl between me and the dog.

  Angel bent over and scooped the furry lunatic into her arms who was yapping like crazy. “Settle down, Mr. Toodles. You’re a silly dog. I know you’re excited to meet Lexi Carmichael. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.” She thrust the dog at me. “Isn’t he adorable?”

  Oh, for crying out loud.

  The dog growled and tried to snap at me. I backed up, knocking over the fireplace instruments with a clatter. So much for Slash’s hypothesis that all animals loved me.

  “Uh, actually, Elvis, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later at the airport.”

  He glanced between Angel and the dog and nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you out.”

  We walked to my car in silence. Before I got in the driver’s side, he put a hand on the driver’s door, preventing me from getting in. “I’m really glad you came by, Lexi. I wanted to tell you something. Xavier and I aren’t on speaking terms. We had another fight last night. Even bigger than the one before, leading to the no-talking thing. He wouldn’t be reasonable about the endospore threat.”

  The revelation that they were fighting to this degree hurt me more than I would’ve expected. They’d always been a team—protective, supportive and watching each other’s back. That an absent father could drive apart twins who were this close made me feel nauseous.

  I froze as a revelation suddenly occurred to me. Somewhere along the line, Elvis and Xavier had become family to me. No, that wasn’t quite right. I’d made them family. I’m not sure how it happened, it just did. That’s why seeing the twins fighting to this level and going through such a painful metamorphosis was more upsetting than I ever imagined.

  But this wasn’t about me. Elvis needed a supportive friend, not another person falling apart on him.

  “I’m sorry, Elvis.” I jingled the car keys in my hand, wishing I knew just what to say to make this better. “I’ve discovered family relations are infinitely more complex than I ever imagined.”

  “I know. The crazy thing is, I get it. I really get it. Xavier’s totally right on a number of important points. But the trip to Egypt wasn’t the only catalyst. These fights have been a long time brewing.”

  “What? Why?”

  He pushed his fingers through his hair. His hand trembled. “I’m not sure. I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s a twin thing. We’ve been growing apart for some time.”

  He looked so anguished, I put a hand on his arm. “Hey, growing apart is natural. Think of it this way. You and Xavier have been a dual processor system all of these years. You both knew the computer could operate on just one processor, and often it did. But it was a lot easier and more comfortable to share the load. As each year passed, the processors got upgraded and became more powerful. Looking back, just one of them is more powerful than both of them were just a few years ago. In fact, it’s come to a point where each processor needs to have their own system to better serve the enterprise called life. It doesn’t mean you won’t still be closely networked—you will—but only that you won’t still share the same housing. Does that make sense?”

  “Absolutely. It’s just harder than I ever imagined.”

  “Not just on you, but on Xavier, too. Change is mega. Keep in mind, Xavier is already living on the edge. He’s getting married in just over a week. Emotions are high all around. That your father enters the picture at this exact moment is bound to open old wounds.”

  “Agreed.”

  I patted his shoulder. “You’re going to get through this and so will Xavier, because no matter what happens, you guys are brothers. You’ll always be there for each other, okay?”

  “Okay.” He gave me a hug. “Thanks, Lexi. See you at the airport in a couple of hours.”

  “Yep. Meet you there.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Slash was already at my apartment when I got there. A black duffel bag and two laptop cases sat by the door. A black windbreaker was draped over the back of one of the living room chairs.

  “Slash?” I called out dropping my purse on the couch. “Where are you?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  I walked down the hall and into the room. He’d stacked all my boxes neatly to one side of the room and had my half-packed carry-on suitcase open and on the bed, which had been stripped, ready for me to finish packing. He was dressed in black jeans, a short-sleeved T-shirt and no shoulder holster. He held out a hand, so I took it and he pulled me in for a kiss.

  “You got off early,” he murmured against my cheek.

  “You, too.” I leaned my head against his chest. “You smell good. You always smell good. How do you do that?”

  “I shower?”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and closed my eyes. It felt nice to take a moment to appreciate the arms around me. “I’m really glad you’re going on this trip, Slash.”

  “Me, too.”

  He ran a hand over my ponytail and rested his fingers against the nape of my neck. We stood there enjoying each other’s company for a few beats longer.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay there forever, because my suitcase wouldn’t pack itself. Maybe I could ask Slash to invent something. He was good like that.

  “Well, I guess I’d better get some things in my suitcase,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about a laptop. I brought two sterilized ones, but loaded with software we may need.”

  “Perfect.”

  Slash loosened his embrace and I went into the bathroom to get my toilet kit. After rooting around under the sink for a minute, I peeked my head out the door. “Did you have time to find out anything about the financials on Elvis’s dad today?”

  “I did. But first of all, I did a little more digging on Mr. Merhu Khalfani.”

  “And?”

  “He wasn’t lying about one thing. He’s unemployed. At least as of three months ago. He was fired from
the British Museum.”

  “The British Museum? Wasn’t that where his father worked?”

  “Si. Like his father, he worked with the Egyptian exhibits.”

  “Interesting. Why was he fired?”

  “He was caught handling exhibits he had no permission to touch. At least that’s the official statement. Interestingly, it wasn’t his first offense. He had a couple others before that. My guess is they cut him a break or two because of his father. But as it became a pattern, they cut him loose.”

  I stuffed in my toiletries and stepped out of the bathroom. “I wonder what we would come up with if we cross-referenced the exhibits he was caught touching with those Arthur Zimmerman was examining at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo? Maybe something would pop out at us.”

  “Good idea.” Slash’s eyes flashed with interest. “But I’ve got more on Khalfani. He’s unmarried without any known family except for a sister who lives in Jordan and does not provide him with financial assistance. Yet, for an unemployed man, Khalfani has an income, at least for the past few months.”

  “Then it’s interesting he was able to afford a so-called holiday in the US.”

  “Agreed. Someone has been depositing money into his account for a few months.”

  I stared at Slash. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. Not yet. The account is hidden and I didn’t have time for a thorough search. But it’s another thread to pull.”

  “Wow. It sure is. Speaking of financials, what did you find on Elvis’s dad?”

  “First of all, he doesn’t have a credit or debit card. He does, however, have a bank account at the Central Bank of Egypt. He made steady withdrawals from his account at one of the branches in Cairo until about a month ago. He made a sizable withdrawal of about seven thousand dollars and disappeared.”

  “Did he empty his account?”

  “No. He still has several thousand dollars left.”

  “Was there any pattern to the withdrawals?”

  “Funny you ask. There was. The first and fifteenth of every month.”