Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2

by N. S. Wikarski

  Finally, he cracked the door open. “Father?”

  Leroy could see the preacher sitting at his desk staring off into space. The old man had certainly slid downhill since their last meeting. Abe seemed to be shriveling up like a maple leaf ready to fall off the tree—all crinkly and brittle around the edges.

  Daniel entered the office, followed closely by Leroy. He stopped directly in front of the desk. “Father, we’ve returned,” he announced in a louder voice.

  That seemed to snap Metcalf out of his trance. “What?” he barked, looking around the room half-blindly.

  At close range, Leroy could tell that there was something wrong with the old man’s eyes too. They were glazed over, and the pupils were so big they looked like black train tunnels in the middle of his face.

  “We’re back,” Daniel repeated. “You wanted to see both of us.”

  Abe blinked several times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. Staring down his nose at the two of them, he said, “Oh yes. That’s right.” He must have realized he’d been caught napping, so he tried to seem dignified and in charge. Standing up, he straightened his tie and commanded them both to sit.

  The visitors dropped into the bucket-bottomed chairs that forced them to look upwards at the preacher—bully-pulpit style.

  Metcalf didn’t take a seat himself. He leaned against his desk and eyeballed them critically. “First things first,” he began. “I trust your mission was successful.”

  “Yessir, boss,” Leroy hurried to reassure him. “Got your doodad right here.” He set a metal box on the desk beside the old man.

  Metcalf took a few moments to unpack and examine the artifact. “Some heathen goddess, no doubt,” he murmured, not expecting an answer. He set the statue down. Transferring his attention to Daniel, he asked, “Did you have any trouble?”

  “None,” Daniel answered smoothly.

  Hunt did a double-take. The kid had become a seasoned liar during the time they’d been working together. Daniel wasn’t planning to say diddly about the two thieves or the two bandits who came after. Well, maybe he was right not to. There was no sense in ruffling the old man’s feathers for no reason.

  Without smiling, Metcalf said, “You are both to be congratulated.”

  “We aim to please, boss.” Hunt felt even more certain that something wasn’t right.

  “There have been a few developments since you left,” Metcalf continued. “I chose to wait until your return to inform you.” He shifted his position and fixed the cowboy with a baleful glare. “I’ll begin with the news that your friend Mr. Bowdeen attempted to kill me.”

  “What?” Leroy stared up at him in disbelief.

  Daniel looked from one to the other. “Who’s Mr. Bowdeen?”

  Metcalf waved his hand dismissively. “An acquaintance of Mr. Hunt’s who has been working on several projects for me. Projects which don’t concern you.”

  “When did all this go down?” Hunt was genuinely flummoxed, and Metcalf must have realized that he wasn’t faking surprise.

  “Shortly after your departure. He entered my office late at night with a pistol. He would have murdered me if not for Joshua.”

  “Joshua!” Daniel yelped.

  “Yes, your brother had the presence of mind to follow Bowdeen and dispatch him before he could pull the trigger.”

  Leroy let out a low whistle. “If that don’t tear the rag off the bush...”

  “You had no idea Bowdeen was planning to assassinate me?” Metcalf challenged.

  The cowboy was the picture of injured innocence. “Boss, I ain’t seen Chopper for more’n six months. Ain’t talked to him either. If a feller is too dumb to know his own luck, then he gets what he deserves. That’s all I gotta say.”

  The preacher’s eyes narrowed. He studied Hunt in silence for several seconds. Apparently satisfied that the cowboy wasn’t involved, he changed the subject. “To offset that unpleasant business, we’ve had a triumph of sorts. You’ll both be pleased to know that Hannah has been safely returned to the Nephilim.”

  Daniel gulped. “H... H... Hannah is back here?”

  “Indeed.” The old man gave a satisfied smile. “Of course, she remains traumatized by her ordeal in the Fallen World. She won’t speak to anyone. I trust, over time, we can undo the damage. She’ll remember where she belongs—and to whom she belongs.”

  Leroy was too stunned to open his mouth for several seconds. He gave a shaky smile. “How’d you manage to get her back, boss?”

  Metcalf scowled at Hunt. “No thanks to you, that’s how. I had my son Joshua search your apartment while you were out of the country. I wanted to see what sort of progress you’d made in tracking her. I must say I’m very disappointed, Mr. Hunt. Joshua found photos indicating you’d been following my wife for quite some time. He took the necessary steps to recover her. Why wasn’t I kept informed of your findings?” He leaned over the cowboy. “Did somebody pay you to keep her whereabouts from me?”

  Leroy felt seriously rattled by this unexpected turn of events. He had to think fast. “You got it all wrong, boss.”

  The preacher folded his arms across his chest. Some of his old arrogance had returned. “Enlighten me,” he demanded.

  “You settled for hookin’ a minnow when I was fixin’ to land you a whale.”

  The analogy was lost on the old man. “What?”

  “It was like this, Mr. Metcalf. I tracked the gal to where she was hidin’ and what do you think I found? The house she’s stayin’ at is connected to them thieves.”

  “That’s impossible!” Daniel exclaimed. His complexion had gone dead pale. “How could she possibly be involved with them?”

  “You mean the three devils who have been interfering with your artifact search?” Metcalf asked.

  “Yessir. I’m pretty sure little Hannah had no notion what was goin’ on. She was just a lost lamb out in the big bad world who fell in with the wrong crowd. Miss Cassie found her and took her in, near as I can figure out.”

  The preacher rubbed his head, trying to follow Hunt’s narrative. “Who is Miss Cassie?”

  “The deadliest female ever to pack a bug-zapper east of the Pecos, that’s who.”

  Metcalf stared at him blankly.

  “She’s one of the three thieves, Father,” Daniel chimed in to clarify. He turned toward Hunt. “You’re saying that Hannah somehow became mixed up with those people?”

  “The little gal couldn’t of known the score. See, she was livin’ in that house with a kindly old lady. I don’t think the granny had any notion who she was workin’ for either. But them three did. I figure they planned to keep Hannah as their ace in the hole in case they ever got into a tight spot with y’all.”

  “Yes, that makes sense.” Metcalf agreed, softening toward Leroy. “So, you were trying to set a trap for the entire crew?”

  “I was tryin’ to set a trap for more than them three,” Leroy demurred. “When I was in the middle of trackin’ your little bride, it come to me that somebody was feedin’ me false leads. That somebody had a whole bunch of people on his payroll. I expect this Mr. Big has got himself a set-up the size of yours with pockets just as deep.”

  “I find your story hard to believe.” Daniel peered at his bodyguard intently. “You’re saying the three thieves are taking their orders from some mastermind who heads a secret organization that rivals the Nephilim?”

  “Believe it, son. It’s all true.”

  The old man raked his fingers through his hair. “This is very troubling news, Mr. Hunt. Why didn’t you inform me of the depth of this conspiracy?”

  “Cuz they bugged my phone, that’s why,” the cowboy retorted. “Had me followed too.”

  The preacher cleared his throat self-consciously. “It would appear I owe you an apology.”

  “No need, boss,” the cowboy protested magnanimously. “Course now that your son Joshua jumped the gun and queered my chances of nailin’ the whole cr
ew, they’re all in the wind again.”

  “So, you don’t think the thieves and their leader will return to the house you had under surveillance?”

  Leroy snorted. “Not likely. I’ll have to track ‘em another way. Boss, we need to shut their operation down or else they’re bound to show up when we go lookin’ for you last doodad.”

  “I believe you’re right, Mr. Hunt.” The preacher nodded solemnly. “We must take every precaution to prevent the final artifact from falling into the hands of this Mr. Big and his minions.”

  “Father, may I see Hannah?”

  The question came out of nowhere.

  Both Hunt and Metcalf turned to Daniel in surprise.

  It occurred to Leroy that Daniel had as much reason to want Hannah to keep her mouth shut as he did himself. If the little weasel had helped her escape in the first place, he’d try to persuade her to stay quiet. Leroy took some comfort from the notion that somebody inside the Nephilim was accidentally furthering his own interests.

  Metcalf was speaking again. He seemed downright cordial now. “In due time you may see her, my son. But be warned. She hasn’t said a word to anybody since she returned. Poor child. It may be a long time before she finds her voice again.”

  “Better and better,” Leroy thought to himself. He put on his hat and rose to go. “I guess if you got no more use for me today, I’ll be on my way, boss.”

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Hunt. I’ll make sure you’re generously compensated for a job well done.”

  “A pleasure doin’ business with you, sir.” Leroy tipped his hat.

  The cowboy and Daniel silently exchanged glances. Each wondered what the other was thinking but, like Hannah, they seemed inclined to keep their secrets to themselves.

  Chapter 40—An Enemy in Need

  Cassie sat listlessly on the camelback sofa in Faye’s vault parlor with Maddie beside her. Griffin stared unseeing through one of the faux windows against the side wall. All three of them were doing their best to avoid glancing at the empty purple armchair in the corner near the fireplace. It had been the memory guardian’s favorite spot.

  The pythia slumped forward and rubbed her eyes wearily. She and Griffin had just returned from China. Instead of Faye’s usual warm greeting, they had been welcomed by the sight of her comatose body in the vault infirmary. Cassie found herself reliving Sybil’s death in an infinitely more painful way. As the pythia stood beside the old woman’s bed and watched her breathe, she expected Faye to blink and sit up at any second, but the memory guardian never did. Periodically, Cassie would glance at the clock on the wall and then back at the body on the bed, expecting a miraculous change for the better which never came. That hope, endlessly revived and then disappointed with every sweep of the second hand, was far crueler than the finality of death itself.

  Eventually, Cassie and her colleagues left the infirmary and tried to talk of other things. The chatelaine filled them in on the details of the break-in. Much to Cassie’s surprise, Leroy Hunt had played no part in the abduction. Metcalf must have trained his homegrown security forces well. They had been skillful enough to strike the farmhouse and get away without being spotted. The idea of what the Nephilim might do next with those expert capabilities sent chills down Cassie’s spine. The pythia shook herself out of her reverie when she became vaguely aware that Maddie was speaking.

  “Zach is a basket case.” The chatelaine toyed with her cigarette lighter. “And who can blame him? His great-great-grandmother is in a coma. His girlfriend has been carried off to face goddess knows what.”

  Her comments were met by a dull silence from her listeners.

  “Any thoughts on a plan?”

  Neither Cassie nor Griffin answered immediately.

  The pythia made a supreme effort to focus on the question that hung unanswered in the air rather than on the tragedies of the past week. She raised her head. “For starters, we have to get Hannah back. The day I met her, I promised her a brand-new life, and I mean to keep that promise.”

  Griffin turned from the window to regard his associates. “We can’t very well lay siege to the compound and demand the girl’s release.”

  Cassie felt taken aback. “Are you saying you won’t help?”

  “Not at all. I’m simply saying we have to find a less direct means of accomplishing our goal.”

  “Erik came up with an idea,” the chatelaine offered.

  The other two traded surprised glances.

  “Erik?” Cassie echoed. She’d forgotten that the paladin was still engaged in spying on the Nephilim.

  “He thought we should start with Daniel.”

  “You mean the guy we just robbed in China?” Cassie didn’t attempt to mask her sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll cooperate.”

  “Erik’s approach may have merit, much as I hate to admit it,” Griffin countered archly. “You’ll recall that Daniel helped Hannah escape in the first place. It would be dangerous for him if she were to remain in the clutches of the Nephilim.”

  “How do you mean?” The chatelaine squinted at him.

  “If Metcalf is determined to discover the specifics of his wife’s original escape, who knows what methods the Nephilim might employ in an effort to obtain answers.”

  “You think Hannah would admit Daniel helped her,” the pythia concluded.

  “Under extreme duress, she may very well give him up.”

  “And he couldn’t afford that,” Maddie completed the thought. “I think we can make this situation work to our advantage. It isn’t hard for us to get to Daniel. My intel says Metcalf’s favorite son had gotten pretty chummy with one of the librarians at the Main Branch. He hangs out there every day.”

  “What about Hunt?” Griffin objected. “Isn’t he Daniel’s bodyguard?”

  “Leroy likes libraries about as much as vampires like garlic. When they aren’t on a field mission, the cowboy stays as far away from his charge as possible.”

  “So Daniel will be unprotected if we try to talk to him,” Cassie speculated.

  “Erik said he wanted to make the initial contact.” Maddie rose to leave, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. “Now that I’ve run this plan past you two, I’ll give him the green light to go ahead. The next time Daniel comes out of the library, Erik will be there to meet him. Then our paladin will make him an offer I’m pretty sure he won’t refuse.”

  Chapter 41—Silence Is Golden

  Hannah’s feet dangled over the side of her bed. She swung them idly back and forth to mark the time. There was really nothing else to do. Her captors might at least have given her a book to read. The random wish struck her as oddly funny. The concept of reading for entertainment was completely foreign to the Nephilim. She’d never realized that before she left. The only books to be found at the compound were scripture or commentaries on scripture. Instruction manuals for how to get to heaven weren’t supposed to be amusing. She smiled gloomily to herself. Everybody here was trying so hard to please an invisible, ill-tempered god that they feared to take pleasure in anything else.

  The girl cast a glance around her chintz-upholstered prison. These had been her quarters a lifetime ago, but everything looked so much smaller now. As the wife of the diviner, she was entitled to a room with a private bath and a small sitting area. These luxuries were a sign of Father Abraham’s favor. She eyed the barred window skeptically. Was that a sign of his favor too? But then all the windows were barred. She wondered how many members of the congregation might choose to walk away if their path wasn’t blocked by iron bars, fences, and men with guns.

  She smoothed the fabric of her plain gray smock. It felt scratchy. The white starched apron covering it was no better. After the chloroform had worn off, she’d awakened to find herself dressed in the stiff garb of a consecrated bride. She didn’t know who had switched her clothing but that someone had also given her a bath. Her skin had been scrubbed so hard that there were raw patches on her arms and legs.
Did they think they could erase the influence of the outer world as easily as that? She touched her hair which had been cut to chin length. At least the Nephilim couldn’t alter that aspect of her appearance. She still looked like one of the Fallen. The thought gave her a perverse sense of triumph.

  After her initial escape, she had ceased to think of the outer world as Fallen at all. It had become the real world to her. The beliefs of the Nephilim, once the bedrock of her existence, now seemed like the fevered dreams of a lunatic. Hannah concluded that the cult’s founder, Jedediah Proctor, must have been mentally disturbed. She’d learned about other religions at school. While some of them practiced odd rituals, none of them felt compelled to protect their faith at gunpoint the way the Nephilim did. Perhaps it was because Nephilim ideals were so contrary to human nature that they couldn’t survive in the real world. They would evaporate in the light of common sense like all nightmares must. That was why it took a ten-foot fence guarded by soldiers to separate the believers from the sane people outside.

  She anxiously twisted the fabric of her apron, wondering what had become of Granny Faye the night of her abduction. Hannah hadn’t dared to ask in case the diviner might want to destroy anyone she cared about. He had once slaughtered all the children’s pets because the animals inspired a love not directed at God. What might he do to Granny Faye, or Cassie, or Zach if he knew the affection Hannah felt for them?

  The girl hadn’t spoken since she’d been brought back. It wasn’t because she was sulking. It was because she needed the silence to figure out how to respond if they questioned her. She had been living under the roof of a woman who was secretly engaged in the artifact quest and was committed to thwarting the diviner’s plans. Even though Hannah didn’t know much, it would be better to pretend she knew nothing.

  The girl jumped slightly at the sound of a knock on her door. What was the point of knocking, she wondered bitterly? A polite attempt not to intrude on her privacy? She’d been dragged from her place of refuge and carried off in the middle of the night. How much greater a violation of privacy could there be than that? Another knock came, and then the doorknob turned. Since the door was locked from the outside, she knew her prospective visitor already had the key.