Perfect Specimen: Brietta (11 page)

Meanwhile, Taggert was a wreck. He wanted to save Brietta, but instead she alternately shrieked in pain and thanked him, each of which was equally upsetting.

Was it all in her mind? He didn’t believe that for a second. She wasn’t crazy, she was ill—some sort of freakish infection that was gobbling up her brain cells.

But not a tumor
.
You don’t get a tumor from a sinus infection.

Every time his spirit dipped, Brietta seemed to sense it, invoking one simple, primal word:
Sean
.

No one who had ever mattered to him had called him that. Not his parents, who had called him “Tagg” from the start. Nor his close friends, who had adopted the Tagg tag as well. Sure, some teachers and administrators had referred to him as Sean, but by college that name had almost ceased to exist, to the point where his mother, who had admitted to a fleeting crush on Sean Connery, had openly regretted not naming her only son “Paul Taggert Junior.”

But somehow, when Brietta called him Sean, it sounded right.

Every fiber in his being told him he was doing the right thing, but it wasn’t until he carried her writhing, moaning body into the cave that he knew his decision had been correct.

It was almost surreal, the way her body un-tensed, not gradually but as if the electric current that had been fueling her agony had suddenly been disconnected.

He didn’t want to believe it could be so simple. “Brietta? Baby?”

“Sean?” Her voice sounded faraway, almost giddy. “You weren’t lying to me?”

“Damn.” He nuzzled her neck in apology. “Is that what you thought? No, baby, we’re here. Don’t ask me why, but we’re here.”

She tightened her grip on his neck, then opened her eyes and smiled. “Wow, do you look good or what?”

Taggert grinned self-consciously. “This actually helps?”

“It’s exactly what I needed. How did you know? How can I thank you?” Stroking his cheek, she added softly, “I’m so grateful, Sean. You’re my hero—just when I thought I’d die before I ever found one.”

“I never thought I’d find you either. So we’re even.” He eyed her sternly. “You’re not lying to
me
, are you?”

“I’ve never lied to you. And I get why you lied to me. So we’re good, I promise.
Really
good.”

His heart pounded with relief. “Do you feel good enough to tell me about the bad guy?”

“Hmm?”

“You said someone was trying to kill you.
And
me. And the whole clan, quote unquote. What does that mean?”

“I wish I knew.” She sighed as her glance swept over the cavern walls. “Just so you know, I’m staying here forever.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. It doesn’t make any sense, but it sure seems to work.”

“It’s like a giant helmet shielding me from pain.”

“Shielding you?” he murmured. ”I wonder . . .” He cleared his throat. “Do you have any metal fillings in your teeth? Or any implants? A plate in your head maybe?”

Laughter bubbled up in her throat. “Seriously? You think I’m one of those skitzoid freaks who think aliens are sending them radio signals through their fillings? Thanks a lot.”

He chuckled too. “It doesn’t make sense. But then again, none of this makes sense.”

“True. But unfortunately, I have perfect teeth. No metal plates, no breast implants,
nada
.”

“So those are real, huh?” he said teasingly. “Mind if I verify that? ’Cause they’re fairly impressive.”

She pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “Grope away. I’m all yours.”

Taggert groaned at the provocative sight. “My parents didn’t raise me to take advantage of crazy girls, so I’ll pass for now. But once the doctors check you out, I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.”

“Doctors?” She shook her head. “Pay attention, Sean. We’re in a brave new world. The world of the silent witnesses.”

* * * *

Brietta knew he’d love the story, and he didn’t disappoint. Even better, he asked the same questions she had asked.

Why a violent death instead of a self-inflicted poisoning?

Where were the weapons that bashed their skulls with such pinpoint precision?

Who was the executioner? Where was
he
buried? Who buried him?

And most provocatively:
What did the witnesses witness?

As she watched in fascination, he mentally worked through the problems. Then he murmured, “We think they witnessed something in this cavern, right? Or even better, they witnessed the cavern itself?”

Brietta nodded. “Either they discovered it, which would mean it’s a natural formation or something carved by prehistoric ancestors, or they carved it themselves, God knows how or why. I mean, it’s beautiful, but it doesn’t serve any purpose. Any function, not even as a temple.”

“It blocks out signals,” Taggert reminded her with a shrug. “Not just to your crazy head, but
all
signals. So it serves a purpose, at least in a sense.” When she eyed him in disbelief, he explained how his efforts to employ sonar had failed to reveal the contours of this spot, and how the walkie-talkies didn’t operate within its walls.

Brietta frowned. “So it’s not just a vacuum. Or simple air pressure.”

“Right. And the perfection of the shape of the dome—as amazing as it is—doesn’t explain why it blocks the signals.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “How perfect is it?”

“Within an eighth of an inch. I’ve measure it from the center of the floor to almost every point on the walls or roof, and it’s consistently perfect. Twenty-two feet, plus or minus a negligible amount.”

“So it really couldn’t have occurred naturally?”

“I don’t think so.”

She stood and stared above herself. “Why carve it? There weren’t any sonar or radio waves at that time.” Turning to face Taggert, she added wryly, “And even if there were, it wouldn’t explain why my head doesn’t hurt. Unless the lizard guy is bombarding me with radio signals.”

Taggert chuckled. “He was a
lizard
guy? Isn’t that more proof he never existed? Neither do the three-ringed vipers. I actually think Hannan made them up, since there’s no record of ’em anywhere. And the guy loves to invent stories. Maybe even that silent witness thing. I’m sure it has a grain of truth to it, but otherwise, vintage Hannan.”

She licked her lips. “So Hannan invented the vipers? Then
you
used that lie as a basis for your own lie. Then gullible me—I internalized it, imagined it, and shot at it?”

“More or less.” He walked over to her and patted her arm. “Because you’re exhausted.”

“Then where did the lizard guy come from? We’re back at square one. He’s scaly, which is viper-related. But the uniform? The whip? Threatening my clan? There’s no basis for any of that.”

Taggert took her by the arm and led her to the pile of supplies. “You’re right about one thing, we’re back at square one. And we don’t need to solve it tonight, so come and rest with me.”

They made a bed of tarps and jackets, then dozed for a while in each other’s arms. But as hungry as Brietta was for a good night’s sleep, she didn’t want to waste her pain-free state, so they were back on their feet before dawn.

After checking on Kasha, Taggert gave Brietta a tour of his work, explaining that he had visually examined every inch of the walls and dome for niches and nooks—anything that would reveal a hiding place for precious jewels or artifacts. After confirming that the fissure was the only break in the perfect rock surface, he had begun probing for compartments hidden behind the surface, but that effort had been fruitless as well.

“I checked the floor first, now I’m working my way up the walls. It’s like your gridding system actually. I test a spot every three feet or so by micro-puncturing the surface. Hopefully without visibly defacing it. And apparently without affecting its helmet-like qualities.”

She peered toward the ceiling. “How far up the dome have you gotten?”

“Ten feet. It’s all rock, Brie. They must have used some amazing tools to carve it out, and then to get it so smooth. I just wish I knew why.”

She studied him wistfully. “Ten feet sounds like enough for a tentative conclusion. Why would they hide a secret compartment higher than that? Especially with a dome shape. All the loot could come spilling out so easily. And for sure they wouldn’t put a
tomb
up there, especially not of an important priest or king. No way would they want his body dropping to the floor with a thud. Right?”

Taggert nodded. “I’m going to check it out completely, but I totally agree with you. Unfortunately.”

She smiled in sympathy. “What did your father expect?”

“He wasn’t sure what to think, but he figured it would be something astounding. Like you said, maybe a tomb. Not riches necessarily—at least not as in the traditional sense. To him, it had a spiritual atmosphere, not a lavish one.”

She nodded. “Like a temple. That’s what I think too. But where are the altars? The statues? The holy vessels?” With a frustrated laugh, she added, “And more importantly for
my
part of the project, where are the weapons that killed my guys? Those may not be as intrinsically valuable as jewels or statues, but as artifacts they’re just as priceless.”

“I feel the same way about the tools they used to carve, sand, and smooth out these walls. I’d rather find those than a bunch of jewels any day.” He smiled mischievously. “Hannan’s father had a theory about that, actually.”

Brietta pretended to glare. “Hannan’s
father
?”

“Didn’t I mention him?” Taggert reached out and pulled her against himself. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Mmmm . . .” She slipped her hand behind his neck and obliged him easily. Then she murmured, “I want to hear about it eventually, but for now—well, there’s something I’m a
lot
more curious about.”

* * * *

They made love on the stack of tarps and jackets, so wildly eager at first they couldn’t help laughing at themselves, until they were reeling with pleasure so unbridled, so perfect—so red-hot—they could barely manage to gasp each other’s names. Even when they were done and tangled in a satisfied embrace, Brietta couldn’t bear to break the spell by asking about Hannan’s father. Instead, she asked about Taggert’s dad, and he asked about hers, and they gorged on the kind of information that could make their intimacy even more real. Maybe even permanent.

But eventually, she just had to know, so she signaled the end of the session by putting on her cargo pants and shirt. Then she demanded playfully, “Hannan’s
father
? And you’re just mentioning it now?”

Taggert chuckled. “Just when I thought I had your undivided attention.” Standing, he pulled his jeans over his legs. “Hannan’s dad served as a guide for my father when he discovered this place. Hannan doesn’t know the details, but I do.”

Brietta took a sip of water from a nearby canteen, then held it out to Taggert. “What kind of details?”

“They’re huge, actually.”

“In other words, more secrets?”

“Yeah.” He sat back down and pulled her into his arms. “Sad ones, actually. Dad hired him as an interpreter and guide. And swore him to secrecy about any and all things they’d find. That was Dad,” he added philosophically. “To be his friend, or his colleague, or his son, you had to pass all his confidentiality tests. And it seems like Hannan’s father did. Almost to an amazing extent.”

“He knew about the cave? But never told his own son?”

Taggert nodded. “Once they found the cave, they were just like us. Completely mystified by where the tools went, what the purpose was.”

“Did they know about my cemetery too?”

“
Your
cemetery?” He laughed. “Nope. Dad would have loved that, though. He would have loved
you
, actually. You’re so amazing,” he added, nuzzling her again. “You smell so good—”

“Cut it out, Sean. I want to hear the story.”

He eyed her fondly. “I love it when you call me that, you know. You’re the only one who does.”

Her insides started to sizzle with arousal, but she shook her head to warn them both not to go there. Not until she had heard the rest of this bizarre story. “You rediscovered this place all by yourself?”

“Right. I bounced sonar waves all over this area, since it matched some of the things Dad had told me. He didn’t leave a map, or detailed notes, since he didn’t know he was going to get hit by a car. He actually thought he and I would come back here together when I graduated—a father and son discovery.”

“Poor you.” She stroked his cheek, touched by the faraway look in his eyes. “Don’t stop.”

He cleared his throat. “The sonar didn’t find a cave, but there was definitely something odd about the shot. More like it
didn’t
show something that should logically be there. The techs thought it was just a glitch, but I remembered what Dad said—that the two-way radios couldn’t broadcast in or out of here. So I wondered, or rather hoped, if that was the same for the sonar.”