Buried Secrets

by Kristi Belcamino

  Safra indicated that Dallas should sit next to her.

  Without preamble, the women seated near the pots began dishing ladles of the stew or soup from the pots and passing them down.

  When a bowl was passed to Dallas Safra leaned over. “It’s vegetarian. I recommend you garnish it with peanuts and cilantro.”

  Dallas did so and then dug into the dish, which was some sort of stew containing sweet potatoes, collard greens, and what tasted like peanut butter.

  “This is amazing,” she said when she finally came up for air.

  Safra tilted her head and smiled. “We do like to eat well around here.”

  After dinner, the women cleared the table and Safra gestured to a couch in the corner of the back porch. “Shall we?”

  The back porch grew quiet as the table was cleared and the women filed out.

  Safra poured them both tea and after taking a sip, she smiled.

  “The Daughters of Isis is an organization that was formed as a place for the wives of Shriners to be involved in their own charitable and benevolent organization. Our focus in the early 1900s was to help those in need—the disabled, teenage mothers, the needy, the poor—and give African-American women a voice.

  We formally were recognized by the Ancient Egyptian Arabic Order Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. We have more than ten thousand members in several countries. But we here in Sedona are also part of a special, secret subset.”

  Dallas was riveted. Up until now she was just being given a spiel. Here was where the real dirt was. And the way Safra paused before saying it, made Dallas hold her breath.

  “We’ve branched off from the main organization,” Safra said. “We still are very involved in the charitable side of the Daughters, but we have a different, larger mission.”

  “How did you know that I would come here?” Dallas asked.

  Safra smiled. “I didn’t know. I just had a feeling.”

  “I’m glad I came,” Dallas said.

  “We branched off from the main group a few years ago when the sunken treasures of Alexandria were first being discovered.”

  The tea cup was halfway to Dallas’s mouth, but she froze.

  Safra continued. “We were, as you might expect, very excited about the discovery. At first,” she paused dramatically.

  Dallas finished taking her sip of tea, but didn’t take her eyes off Safra.

  “But then some odd things happened. It came to our attention that some people were interested in finding Cleopatra’s tomb for all the wrong reasons.”

  Hearing the words “Cleopatra’s tomb” come out of Safra’s mouth nearly made Dallas gasp. She felt light-headed for a second and disoriented but managed to blurt, “What do you mean?”

  “There is a curse on the tomb.”

  “Of course, there is,” Dallas said, wryly.

  Safra tilted her head.

  “Before we go too much further, I have to ask,” Dallas said. “There’s been some sketchy stuff going on—my house and office burglarized, the murder of one of my crew members …” She stopped to see Safra’s reaction.

  The woman bowed her head. “Yes, I was sorry to hear about that.”

  “I have to ask,” Dallas continued. “Was any of this you guys?”

  Safra shook her head slowly. “It was them.”

  Dallas scoffed. “Who? That’s why I’m here. Who?”

  “We aren’t sure exactly who is at the head of it all, but there is a very powerful organization that is trying to find the tomb before anyone else. We’ve been aware of them for years, but it wasn’t until David Caldwell found the sunken treasures that we realized the group had been backing him and his partner, Malcolm Land.”

  Dallas’s mouth opened. “Okay. Some of this is starting to make sense.”

  “We must stop them from finding it. If they find it, they will gain the ability to rule the world.”

  Dallas frowned. “Now I’m lost again.”

  Safra pulled a cell phone out of a fold of her sari. “I’ll try to show you.”

  After she tapped for a few seconds, she handed Dallas the phone. On the screen was a Stele.

  “Is this the one in the Cairo museum?”

  “No,” Safra said. “This one was pulled from the sea along with the others and then mysteriously disappeared before it made it to Cairo to be logged by the Minister of Antiquities office.”

  “But you have a photo?”

  “One of our members had infiltrated the project and had managed to take some pictures before it disappeared.”

  “So, what does it say?”

  “It contains both a curse and a promise. It states that a powerful curse protects the location of Cleopatra’s body, but that the one who is able to find her body will reap treasures untold and will be given the power to rule the world.”

  “That’s it?” Dallas frowned. “Seems kind of vague. And a pretty big promise. Do you believe that?”

  Safra laughed. “I’m not sure about the power to rule the world, but I don’t discount it either. There are some who believe in the Illuminati.”

  “But there are true Illuminati, outside of the conspiracy theorist fictional ones,” Dallas burst out She immediately felt guilty for interrupting and clamped her lips together

  “Yes. There are historical Illuminati, the Bavaria group founded in 1776 to fight abuse of power and superstitions, but there is also—some believe—another group—a secret society that controls the world.”

  She paused. This time Dallas waited to speak.

  “That’s the one I’m not sure I believe in,” Dallas said.

  Safra smiled. But gave no indication whether she believed it.

  “What not very many people know,” Safra continued, “is that some believe that Cleopatra was the founder of the Illuminati—the secret group that controls the world. And that she held the knowledge to control others. That is how she became the greatest woman of her time and one of the most powerful people in the world. Yes, most know that she was the most educated and cunning woman in history, but she also had something else—the ability to control powerful men and have them do her will even if it was 180 degrees different than they’d planned before they met her.

  “That knowledge—the secret to her ability to influence the most powerful men in the world—is supposed to be contained in a special book. There is speculation that Cleopatra smuggled the bulk of her wealth, and more importantly, the book, out of Alexandria when Octavian attacked. The theory goes that she was able to stash it in a secret location before he invaded. The stela indicates that the map to her treasures—and the book—is somewhere on her body”

  Dallas thought about what she had said.

  “Let me get something straight. Are you for or against the tomb being found?”

  “Excellent question.”

  But she didn’t answer the question. Dallas raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s complicated,” Safra said. She stood and began pacing the porch. Dallas watched her, the anticipation building.

  “I will not lie,” she said. “We want that book with that power.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “But not to control the world,” Safra continued. “We want control of the book so we can keep it out of the wrong hands. The group I am speaking of will use it to fuel hatred and war and destruction on a level we haven’t seen since the Holocaust. The murder of your crew member proves their intent, does it not?”

  Dallas nodded. “What if the book does nothing? And people have died over it?”

  “I’m afraid to say it wouldn’t be the first time people have murdered over a book,” Safra said.

  “Now I’m even more determined to find Cleopatra’s Tomb,” Dallas said.

  “You are?” Safra raised a curved eyebrow.

  “Yes!” Dallas said. “I’ll do anything to find it. That’s why I’m here. I don’t know where else to turn. I need answers. I need some way to get my permit approved. I don’t know how, but I’m going back to Eg
ypt and I’m going to find where Cleopatra is buried.”

  As soon as Dallas said it, she knew it was true. Everything suddenly had become crystal clear. Something about being in Sedona? Or just that she’d wallowed in self-pity long enough. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She remembered sitting outside the minister’s office crying and how she refused to give up. She was still that child her father loved—the one who didn’t give up. And her father’s words: “Anything worth having in life is worth working for.”

  “I don’t care if it takes the rest of my life, I’m going to find that tomb,” Dallas said, throwing back her shoulders.

  Safra laughed. Dallas looked up, startled, but then saw admiration in the woman’s eyes.

  “Dallas Jones, I have no doubt. I believe that you can do anything you set your mind to.” She nodded toward the door. “But for now, why don’t we get some sleep and talk more about this in the morning. Why don’t you grab your belongings and I’ll show you to your room. It’s late and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  Dallas didn’t argue.

  Her room was adorable. Small but comfortable with a tiny dresser, single bed and small bathroom. The bedspread was light green with little pink roses and the sheets smelled like a summer breeze. Dallas showered and then crawled into the bed and was asleep within minutes.

  The next morning Dallas woke and dressed and then ventured downstairs to the main room.

  Safra greeted her with a cup of coffee and introduced her to the other women. They sat down at the same long tables on the back porch and Dallas dug into scrambled eggs and toast.

  In between bites, she asked Safra if this branch worked as a commune.

  “In a way, yes. We are more like a co-op. I’ll show you when we are done eating.”

  After breakfast, Dallas got a tour of the farm. The house was surrounded by fields with lettuce, broccoli, spinach, cauliflower, cabbage and melons.

  The chapter members not only lived off sales of the produce they harvested, but the food comprised the bulk of their diet, Safra told Dallas. They did occasionally go into the town of Sedona and shopped at the market but they mainly lived on the food they raised. They had chickens for eggs but mainly ate vegetarian. Their meals often depended on the season, Safra said.

  The women were walking through one of the small fields of small melons.

  “That’s nice,” Dallas said, a bit distractedly.

  Safra’s cell phone beeped. While Safra fiddled with her phone, Dallas turned in a circle. All but one side of the valley was bordered by the massive red rocks arching up into the bright blue sky. Dallas stared off into the distance in the direction without the rocks and could see for miles. She tried to imagine what it would be like to live out here. It was so peaceful. Maybe she could join the Daughters of Isis and live this simple life. Lost in her thoughts, Dallas didn’t quite catch something that Safra was saying to her.

  “I’m sorry?” Dallas said, shaking her head. “I was daydreaming. It’s so peaceful here.”

  Safra laughed. “I said that while I’d love to show you around more and have you stay longer, I just got confirmation from Egypt that you need to prepare for the dig.”

  Dallas scrunched up her face. “What dig? I don’t understand.”

  Her face felt icy cold even though the morning sun was shining warmly down on her bare arms.

  “I just heard back from Cairo this morning. Based on your research and findings, our people in Cairo have been able to garner you a license to excavate through the minister of antiquities office.”

  None of it registered for Dallas.

  “Minister? Wait. Same dude who only gave me two weeks?”

  “This will be for the first three months of the season. Pack your bags. The season begins in two weeks.”

  Dallas closed her eyes tightly and then opened them, squinting. It wasn’t sinking in. Approval to excavate? How was this even possible?

  “I don’t have a funding source to pay my crew...” she trailed off. Impossible. Back to Taposiris Magna?

  Safra smiled. “I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear. The dig is funded by the Daughters of Isis. A crew is being assembled as we speak. We are bringing in experts from London and Cairo and Washington D.C. We will have special equipment to survey underground, we are contacting your friend Sam Randall about the trip and you will be partnering with Danny O’Brien, an Australian archeologist who has been pursuing theories similar to yours. You will find him a worthy partner and a big help I believe as he is an expert in the underground surveying. He is very eager to work with you and meet Sam Randall.”

  For a few seconds, there was silence as it all sunk in.

  “But…why?” Dallas asked.

  “We believe in you. We believe that you will be the one to find Cleopatra’s tomb.”

  Dallas felt faint. “I don’t understand.”

  Safra smiled. “Go pack your bags. It may take a few minutes to sink in. But don’t tarry, you leave for Cairo in four days.”

  Dallas started to walk back to the house feeling like a zombie. Safra called after her.

  “Also?”

  Dallas stopped and turned. “Yes?”

  “We’ve made arrangements through the university for Colton McCloud to take a sabbatical and accompany you on the dig. I will fill you in after you pack.”

  Safra had packed a picnic basket for Dallas and placed it on the passenger seat before closing the door. She leaned through the open window and smiled.

  “You have my number now. You know you can always call me for help. I don’t like to leave the farm, but I would if you needed me. And I want you to know, we have people everywhere.”

  “I kind of got that,” Dallas said and then quickly added. “and thanks. Thanks for everything.”

  Safra’s smile disappeared. “Dallas, we were only able to garner a permit for three months. After that, it is up to you to attempt to get it extended.”

  “In other words, I better find something?”

  Safra nodded her lips clamped together.

  Dallas met her eyes. “I understand.”

  It was do or die. If she didn’t find something during those three months her shot was over. She had to. It was her last chance.

  As Dallas pulled out of the circle driveway, she waved goodbye to the women on the porch and Safra and started to think about everything that had happened this morning.

  She clutched the ankh on its leather cord between her fingers and thumb, feeling it’s smooth, worn surface. It was her destiny to return to Egypt. Of that, she no longer doubted.

  Time to pick herself up, brush herself off, and go after her dreams.

  She cranked the radio to a classical rock station, and stepped down hard on the gas, the wind blowing through the open window, whipping her long hair. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Safra’s regal form standing in the middle of the driveway. She was confused when the figure grew blurry until she realized her cheeks were wet with tears.

  “I’ve got the funding.”

  “What?” Colton’s smile was the best thing she’d seen in a long time. “Is that how you greet me after all this time?”

  “I’m going to Egypt. You are coming along. We leave next week.”

  She’d barged into his office as soon as she pulled into town.

  He stood up behind his desk, his eyes wide. “I don’t understand.”

  “This group I went to see—long story, but in a nutshell—Colton we have funding! We have our flights, everything, all of it, paid for.” Dallas said it all in a rush. And then she frowned. “Oh my gosh. I mean, if you want to go. It would mean leaving teaching for a year. I guess I probably should’ve asked you first.”

  “We?” Colton said. “Me?”

  “Oh did I forget that part? I guess you’ve been granted a sabbatical to accompany me. We have three months to find something to get the permit extended, but your leave is for a year. That is, if you want it?” Dallas suddenly was filled with doubt.


  Colton came around and grabbed her in a big bear hug lifting her up and whooping.

  “Of course, I’m going. This is amazing news. I can always come back to teaching. This is the best thing ever.”

  His grip loosened and she slid down his body until they were face to face. She grabbed his chin and kissed him long and hard until they both had to come up for air. But only long enough for Colton to kick the door behind her closed, still clutching her hips as they kissed more. A lot more.

  She pulled away when someone knocked on his office door.

  “Oh crap. My office hours just started,” Colton said.

  “Of course, they did.”

  They rearranged their clothing and Dallas grabbed her bag, opened the door and slipped out.

  Fifteen

  Cairo

  The minister looked a little weary when he saw Dallas and Colton walk in.

  “I have your excavation license here waiting, Miss Jones.”

  “Thank you.” Dallas sagged in relief. Until she heard him say it, she’d worried that it was all a dream.

  “It is good for the dig season. If you need more time we will have to consider renewing.”

  “That sounds fair.” She planned to have found enough evidence that the tomb was at Taposiris so that wouldn’t be a problem.

  They didn’t waste time in Cairo. They headed straight for the train after they left the minister’s office.

  In Alexandria, Colton insisted they check into the Marriott again.

  “Safer.”

  “You’re right,” Dallas said.

  They had adjoining suites. They’d arrived in Alexandria close to ten at night. Both were yawning when they stepped into the rooms.

  For a second Dallas wondered if they would finally get busy or if they were destined to remain platonic forever. But then Colton had turned away from her saying, “Well, we have an early start so I’m going to turn in now.”

  “Oh, good idea,” Dallas said and headed for her own room, hiding her disappointment.

  The next morning, reunited with Abet and a new driver, Dallas couldn’t stifle her excitement while they drove to the temple. Seated in the back, she kept looking at Colton and grinning. He matched her smile and reached over to grab her hand. She clutched at it, her nails slightly digging into his palms, but he held her hand just as firmly.