Krewe of Hunters 7 The Unspoken (12 page)

BOOK: Krewe of Hunters 7 The Unspoken
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“That bad?”

“Ah, my dear, youth is beautiful—you could never look bad. But you do look exhausted.”

She
was
exhausted. And she liked Randall’s comfort with his profession, his unassuming competence, his ease with those around him.

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” she said, adding, “My colleagues may want to see him tomorrow.”

“No problem.”

Kat left him, shedding her scrubs and washing up. She’d accompanied the body, and Will Chan had stayed at the house. Some of her own Krewe might have arrived by now, but when she went to Randall’s office to get her purse, she hesitated only a minute before dialing Will Chan’s number.

“Hey. You done already? I thought an autopsy took longer,” he said.

“Randall is finishing up. I pretty much found what I was looking for. There were no evident poisons in the stomach, but it’ll take a while to get the labs back. I believe he was frightened to death.”

“Someone was definitely here,” Will told her.

“How do you know?”

“I’ll show you. You ready for a ride?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Fifteen minutes later, he drove by the morgue. “You look like hell,” he said as she slid into the front seat.

Did people have to keep telling her this?

“That’s not a pickup line of yours, is it? If so, it’s not a good one.”

He laughed. “Sorry. Exhausted, is that better?”

“I am tired. But what did you find?”

He motioned to the glove compartment. She opened it and drew out a plastic bag, then looked at him with a gasp. “It’s more of the…mummy stuff!”

“Yep.”

“Where did you—”

“On the outside of the stone wall. I believe someone dressed up as a mummy and went after Austin Miller. It had to be someone who knew his habits—where to go and what time. And that he didn’t put on the alarm until he went to bed.”

“It should actually be easy to figure out who this person is. Someone who dives, knows all about Egyptology, knew Austin Miller and has a boat, or an accomplice with a boat.” She paused. “Of course, we’re still going on our assumptions.”

He turned the corner to reach their hotel before speaking again. “Educated assumptions. Or theories or guesses, whatever. We need to spend more time in the house. I think we may find clues among Austin Miller’s papers. Thankfully he wasn’t as up-to-date on technology as his good friend Dirk Manning. He didn’t even have a computer that I could see. He did have dozens of ledgers, and pages and pages of notes. Also, one of those bookcases was filled with journals written by his father and grandfather.”

Something touched Kat’s shoulder. Something furry. She let out a startled scream.

“Oh! Sorry,” Will said.

“What the—” As she spoke, the furry thing leaped into her lap. It was Bastet, Austin Miller’s cat.

She stared at Will.

He shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? The place is locked up tight and I’ve had them cordon off the whole house, all around the wall, because I don’t want visitors—like whoever did the old fellow in.”

The cat purred and sat calmly on her lap.

“What are we going to do with a cat?” she asked.

“Hey, I brought the litter box.”

“She’s your responsibility. I’m a dog person. I mean, if I had a pet, it would be a dog,” Kat told him.

“That’s an Egyptian Mau—an expensive cat, I’ll have you know.”

The animal was still happily purring.

“I keep feeling she wants to tell us something,” Will said. He gazed straight ahead. “Did you feel that…Austin Miller might be of any help?”

“Not tonight.” She hesitated, stroking the cat’s sleek head. “I’ve rarely had anyone speak in the middle of an autopsy. Maybe the soul gets stronger—and stays away from that agony.”

“I want to get back in that house,” he said. “And I want to go to a meeting of the Egyptian Sand Diggers.”

“Did Austin Miller remain there?” she asked. “In his house?”

“I don’t know. There were too many people. Riley is a really good guy. He kept everyone away from the death scene—except, of course, the pathology team that was with you when the body was removed. But there were officers inspecting the alarm system and generally milling around. We can find out tomorrow.”

“But you want to dive in the morning,” she said.

“Yes. I think it’s important we be there for the next few days.” He suddenly pulled the car to the curb. They were close to the hotel, and she had no idea why he’d stopped.

Bastet curled up on her lap, still purring.

“What?” she asked him.

“Every time we go down to the ship, you stare at the grand salon. Why?”

“The ship’s impressive.”

He smiled. “You don’t lie well, you know.”

“What do you mean? The ship
isn’t
impressive?”

His smile deepened and he leaned back in the seat. “There’s a reason.”

“It may be nothing.”

He leaned toward her, touching her hand where it lay on the cat’s soft fur. “In our world, nothing is rarely nothing. Please, tell me.”

“It just seems kind of…well, ridiculous. And maybe it shouldn’t.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I feel like I’ve always seen the dead—which of course doesn’t mean that I see
every
dead person. Or that I can pull out a cell phone and dial a ghost. I’m accustomed to seeking them out or having them come to me when we can help them, but I’ve never had precognitive dreams or visions of the past.”

“But now you did?”

“At first, none of it connected. At first all I could think of was how horrified I felt. In L.A. we nearly lost a young woman because of a movie made in the forties—about a murderous high priest named Amun Mopat. You’re aware of all this, right? Well, what I
didn’t
know was that the author of the screenplay had used a real entity. So, all I could think was, Oh, Lord, you have to be kidding me, not the mummy of that creep! But the night before Logan talked to me, I dreamed I was on a ship and people in Victorian dress were dancing and music was playing, and then…a storm came up.”

“A storm destroyed the
Jerry McGuen,

Will said.

“But in my dream, a couple moved past me, and they were talking about the
curse.
And when we went down to the wreck, I wasn’t dreaming, and it wasn’t real, but in my mind’s eye, I could almost see the ship as I’d seen it in my dream.”

“What you see in your subconscious can be important. I know that you’re thinking,
Ugh, mummy. Extra ugh, mummy of Amun Mopat.
But maybe we should be looking more at the ship. I don’t believe the ship went down because it was cursed or because it carried an Egyptian mummy. I’m not saying that. But maybe there was more to the ship herself. Do you remember anything else about the dream?”

“Yes, actually,” she said, petting the cat absently. “I dreamed that something massive seemed to be coming out of the night and out of the storm. That it was coming toward the ship. Amun Mopat’s ‘curse,’ maybe, except I don’t believe in curses, either. I’m a big proponent of the free will concept. But I
do
believe we can fulfill expectations and, for some people, a curse might be an expectation.”

“Also known as self-fulfilling prophecies,” he murmured. “I’m with you on that. Have you dreamed about this?”

She laughed. “No, although I did have another dream. A typical
The Mummy
dream. I was walking or floating somewhere and suddenly an army of mummies was coming at me. I became pathologist Katya Sokolov in the dream, telling myself I was in no danger because a mummy was brittle and would break when I punched it. But Amun Mopat was behind the mummies, and the mummies didn’t break. And then I woke up.”

He was silent for a minute.

“I told you—silly dream,” she said.

“It’s not silly. I think our dreams may be part of how we communicate with ghosts—or souls that still have to depart the earth or this plane or whatever. They talk to us and show us things while we’re in a state of unconsciousness, or a different consciousness if you prefer. If you dream again, write it all down as soon as you wake up.”

“You’re probably right,” she said. “I know that in Texas, one of my team members, Kelsey, kept having strange dreams and visions of events that had gone on years before—and they did lead her to the truth. It’s just that dreams like this aren’t…well, conducive to good sleep!”

He laughed and reached over, ruffling her hair. It began as a friendly gesture, but his hand lingered and his eyes were on hers for a moment. She suddenly remembered how he’d looked in his pajama bottoms and was shocked by the intense urge for closeness that seemed to overwhelm her. She’d recognized him as an intriguing and handsome man the first time she’d set eyes on him; she had, almost without being aware of it, labeled him
sexy
and
sensual
when they’d run around the hotel in their nightwear. But she was surrounded by striking men who were made even more so by their ethics, determination and strength. She wasn’t sure why Will Chan suddenly seemed more seductive to her than any other man.

Maybe he returned that thought. He quickly withdrew his hand, setting it on the steering wheel. “I’m not leaving, you know, until this is over.”

“I didn’t think you were going to drop me off and head for the airport.”

“No, I mean when more agents show up. I gather Logan’s already here. But I’ve checked in with Jackson Crow, and I’m staying on this. I guess because I was here when it started and I feel I have to see it through.”

“I understand that feeling.”

“I’m just saying that…well, we’re in this together. Don’t keep things from me.”

“I’ll say ditto to you.”

“Look, I know you weren’t fond of working with me. I can tell that you think I can be rude and blunt.”

“I think you
can
be a total jerk.”

Grinning, he turned to her. “Okay, I promise I’ll try not to be.”

“So what annoys you about me?” she asked.

He was thoughtful for a minute. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

He put the car back in gear, and they drove the last few blocks to the hotel.

7

I
t was late when they finally returned to the hotel. Will was tired, too—and he hadn’t performed any autopsies.

When they arrived, the desk clerk told them that five more of their “company” had checked in—Logan Raintree, Kelsey O’Brien, Tyler Montague, Jane Everett and Sean Cameron. He was also quick to assure Will that the cameras in the elevators were now functioning, although, he said apologetically, it would be some time before the hotel had cameras in the hallways. Will thanked him as he and Kat walked to the elevators.

“I wonder if I should wake my Krewe,” Kat said, “and find out what, if anything, they’ve found out or have planned.”

“Let’s get Bastet settled first, huh?” Will suggested. Kat was holding the Mau; Will was lugging a litter box, a bag of litter and the cat food he’d bought. Luckily the hotel was pet-friendly.

“Good idea. And it
is
late. I’m sure everyone will be up early in the morning,” Kat said.

Upstairs, while she continued to hold Bastet, he maneuvered his key card while balancing his purchases. But he’d barely opened the door when he heard her name being called.

Logan Raintree stood in the hallway across from them.

“Hi, Logan! Just a second,” Kat said.

“You two went out and bought an Egyptian cat?” Logan asked. “Aren’t you getting carried away with the subject matter?”

“She’s…she’s an orphan,” Kat said. “Want company in the suite?”

“Love it. Come on over and bring me up to speed,” Logan told them. “I can show you the printouts of the research we’ve done.”

“Great!” Will strode into the room, aware that Kat was following him, still carrying a compliant Bastet. He decided the bathroom was the best place to set up a litter box. He’d never had a cat before, but it seemed logical.

“Hey!” Kat called to him.

“Yeah?” With the litter bag half-open, he looked out at her.

“Did you think to buy some dishes?”

“Dishes,” he said blankly.

“Pet bowls. For the food. And water. I know a cat can go a while without food, but water’s a necessity.”

He stared at her, wondering how he’d forgotten such a basic. If he’d thought of it, he could have taken bowls from Austin Miller’s house, but the only thing on his mind had been that this animal needed to be cared for.

Kat laughed, and he liked the sound, sweet and unaffected. Her lips curved upward and her eyes seemed even bluer, even brighter. He cleared his throat, looking away.

“Mmm-hmm,” he managed.

“It’s okay. The restaurant’s closed, but there’s a soap dish in my room I can wash out. We’ll use that for water. You can rinse yours out for food,” she said. “Somewhere—in between diving, researching and trying to communicate with the spirit world tomorrow—we can find a pet shop.”

“Or just grab the bowls from Miller’s house.”

“That, too,” Kat agreed.

In another few minutes, they had Bastet set up. They left her happily ensconced on Will’s bed, regally cleaning her paws.

“Wasn’t Bastet a goddess?” Kat asked him as they crossed the hall.

“Yes. The ancient Egyptian cat goddess.”

Logan opened the door as they knocked. He was alone.

Will had only met him a few times, when they’d all been back at their special-units offices in Virginia. He was lean and fit, with a controlled, wiry strength; he was also calm and levelheaded, a man who thought before he spoke. Logan reminded him of his own team leader, Jackson Crow. While they were the authority figures in their groups, they knew how to work in ensemble situations, and both had an uncanny sense of who to send where and under what circumstances.

“The others are all in bed?” Kat asked him.

Logan nodded. “But we’re good to go in the morning. Kelsey is going to investigate the members of the Egyptian Sand Diggers and find out who else was at that party. I’ve got Tyler checking on the people at Landry Salvage and I’ll take Simonton’s Sea Search. Jane will stay at the police station and be available to you—or whoever needs her. Did you learn anything at the autopsy, Kat?”

“I learned that he died of sudden and massive heart failure, which was not really unexpected. The doctor on duty was wonderful. I told him my colleagues might want to see the body. He’s an experienced old-timer, and a team player to the
n
th degree. An excellent connection,” Kat said. She nudged Will. “Show Logan what you found.”

He reached into his pocket and took out the two evidence bags. “The first I scraped off the wall right here on this floor when Kat and I thought we were being followed. The second came from the wall surrounding Austin Miller’s estate.”

Logan stared at the bags and then at Will. “It looks like the wrapping from what we perceive as the stereotypical mummy,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“I’ll get these to our lab first thing in the morning,” Logan told him.

“Thanks,” Will said. “I’ll be interested to see what they come back with.”

“Me, too.” He turned to Kat. “You want to keep up with the diving expedition?”

“Yes. I think it’s important.”

“I noticed the camera in the hallway. Is that yours?” Logan asked Will.

He nodded. “I’ll look at the footage before I go to bed.”

“Great. We’ll meet for breakfast in the morning,” Logan said. “Now, get some sleep. We’ll see you downstairs around seven.”

They bade him good-night. Will was glad Logan had come, and glad that Kat’s team was there to handle the strenuous and exhaustive work of investigating the many people who might have been involved.

Across the hall, he opened the door to his room and Kat opened the door to hers. “Well…good night,” he said.

“Good night.”

They both went into their rooms. For a moment, Will hesitated, wondering if he should knock on the connecting door and ask if she wanted it locked again, now that others were here. Then he wondered why it had even occurred to him—except that, after today, he felt he knew her.…

And knew that he was incredibly attracted to her.

He shook off the thought and decided just to check out the hallway video on his computer.

He sat down and studied the video feed. He saw Logan and the rest of Kat’s Krewe arrive, and he saw the maids come and go. Nothing else. He had a feeling, though, that they wouldn’t have a visitor again. Not when there were so many agents on the floor.

He drummed his fingers on the desk.
Someone wants something.

Yes, of course, the vast treasures of the
Jerry McGuen.

But his intuition said it went deeper than that. Why kill Austin Miller? The elderly gentleman wouldn’t have been anywhere near the ship or the water.

He was pretty sure that whatever was taking place wasn’t a one-person operation. The person who’d gone down to the ship just minutes before Brady Laurie couldn’t have been alone. He’d have needed help, someone nearby on a boat. To the best of Will’s knowledge, there was no scuba gear that would enable anyone to go to that depth—and make it back to the Chicago shoreline.

He scribbled a note on a pad.

Timing. Who had access to a small craft—and no alibi for the morning of Brady Laurie’s death?

He yawned, glanced at the connecting door and almost jumped when he heard the cat meow. He rose, rubbed Bastet’s head, stripped down to his briefs. He put the cat on the floor and crawled into bed.

He started to doze off; he was so tired that sleep came quickly. But he was startled awake by the sound of a plaintive cry.

He blinked in the darkness of his room, then turned on his bedside light. The cat was scratching at the connecting door.

He stood and walked over to the cat, picking her up. “Hey, people have to sleep around here, you know? I volunteered to take you. You have to be happy with me.”

The cat meowed pitifully again.

And then Will heard the sounds from next door. Muffled cries of distress.

He instantly set the cat down and opened his door, then the door to Kat’s room.

She was tossing and turning on the bed, arguing softly—and pushing at something. He couldn’t make out the words.

He hurried to her bedside, sitting next to her and clasping her shoulders. It occurred to him that he should let her sleep, but she seemed to be fighting some real demon in her dream. And losing.

“Kat! Kat!” He shook her gently, trying to awaken her from the depths of her dream.

She fought him, striking out violently. He caught her arm to keep her from giving him a good right hook to the jaw or a black eye, and shook her with a little more force.

“Kat!”

She bolted up, eyes suddenly wide open, and stared at him.

“Will.”

“Are you okay?”

“I—I— Yes, yes, of course,” she said. In the light streaming from his room, he could see her clearly. Her eyes were the brightest, clearest, most beautiful blue he’d ever seen…or could ever imagine. And she might possess the greatest strength and will in the world, but at that moment, she seemed fragile to him.

“You were dreaming again.”

She nodded.

“The ship—or the mummy?” he asked.

“The ship. I was on the ship. I could see everyone, so elegant and beautiful and having a wonderful time. The sky was gorgeous—and then everything changed. The storm came in. I kept hearing people screaming about the curse. And then, when I turned, there was something coming at the ship. Something huge and ominous… You can’t have a tsunami on a lake, can you?”

“Well, no, but in a storm… You’ve seen the lake. It’s huge and, in bad weather, the water can be an extreme power.”

She shook her head. “I just didn’t feel it was part of the storm.”

He could feel her trembling beneath the thin fabric of the oversize T-shirt she wore to bed. He wanted to pull her to him and stroke the softness of her hair, hold her close, feel the beating of her heart, of his own heart….

He started to stand. She reached out to stop him, her movement impulsive. “Will—”

“I’ll stay here and work for a while if you want.”

“I, um, that’s silly. You need to get some sleep. I need sleep. Like
real
sleep. Badly.”

“Oh, I’m not that much of a sleeper.”

“No. You have to go back to bed. You have to. Just leave the doors between the two rooms open.” She hesitated. “Did I scream?”

As if on cue, Bastet leaped up onto the bed beside her.

Will laughed. “There’s your answer. The cat was scratching at the door to get into this room. And when I went to stop her, I heard you crying out.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Okay, Bastet, we’ll keep the doors open. Then you can come and go as you like.” She flushed, looking at Will. “Do you mind? I’m not a coward. I wasn’t best in my class on the firing range, but I did score in the ninetieth percentile. It’s just that…you can’t shoot a dream.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he assured her. “I’ll hang around in here if you want.”

She shook her head again firmly. “We have to dive tomorrow. I want you to be well rested.”

“Okay,” he said. “But if you need me, holler!”

“I’ll send the guard cat,” she promised. “Oh, would you turn on the small desk light?”

“You’ve got it.” He went over and turned the light on, said good-night and left her. She lay back as he did, and he was stricken by the sight of them, Kat and the cat, curled comfortably together in the blankets. At the moment, though, he saw only one of them. The woman. He was gratified that she seemed so comforted by his nearness. Her eyes were closing and she let out a sigh, arms curled around her pillow and blond hair a radiant halo.

He returned to his own bed. He was afraid to dream, even though he wouldn’t dream of the ship or the mummy.

He would dream about Kat Sokolov, her blue eyes intense as sapphires, her hair teasing his skin, and his hands…all over her.

He lay down.

And prayed for morning.

* * *

Kat was delighted to see Kelsey, Tyler, Jane and Sean in the dining room with Logan when she stepped inside. Her Krewe had become like family to her. She wanted to ask Tyler about his recent vacation and ask Sean about Madison, but they were already deeply involved in the case at hand. Sean rose first to give her a welcoming hug. “Amun Mopat. Can’t get away from the guy,” he said with a grimace.

“If we’re lucky, the salvage crew will find the
real
Amun Mopat’s sarcophagi and mummy,” she said.

Will came in behind her; he’d stopped at the coffee stand before joining them. She felt a twinge of guilt, certain that it was her fault he needed the coffee. But he looked alert and well rested. Actually, he seemed more impressive than the first day she’d met him, standing behind the autopsy table that held Brady Laurie’s remains. She suddenly found herself thinking they could be an article in a women’s magazine:
Can this relationship work? No, they didn’t meet in a bar or online—they met over the body of a dead man.

She quickly looked away from him. They were working, and today promised to be as long as the day before.

And yet…

True, she’d initially thought he was a total jerk. Brash, abrasive, out of line. But now it seemed that he’d merely been indignant about work that wasn’t up to par. He could be more than decent, respect her skills and talent, become gentle and empathetic.

Tyler stood to shake hands with Will, and then, as they all sat down again, Sean and Will immediately got involved in conversation. That was natural, since they were both technical whizzes when it came to computers and cameras. They all ordered; Kat decided she’d just share with Jane because she didn’t want to eat heavily. There was a fair amount of chatter around the table until Logan cleared his throat.

He passed out a stack of folders. “Everything we’ve discovered so far. Will, make sure you have all our numbers on speed dial. Tonight you and Sean will meet up with the film crew when you’ve finished with everything else, so until then… Will and Kat, get going. We’ll be in contact after the dive. Whoever’s most caught up with their research will meet you at Austin Miller’s house.”

Will nodded. He rose, and Kat rose beside him.

“Have fun, you two,” Tyler said, rising. Despite his respect for his female colleagues, Tyler stood whenever a woman did, and whenever she entered a room. Sean Cameron was like that, too. It made Kat smile. Sean always said it was a Texas thing. Or maybe they just couldn’t let an old courtesy die.

BOOK: Krewe of Hunters 7 The Unspoken
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