Perfect Specimen: Brietta (5 page)

Chapter Five

When Brietta woke up, the pain had receded but still lingered behind her eyes. All seemed quiet outside her tent, but there were hoofbeats in the distance, announcing Taggert’s imminent return. She could only pray Hannan and the others hadn’t called him back prematurely.

Struggling to sit up, she realized Melody was seated in a nearby camp chair, so she gave her a weak smile. “How long was I out?”

“Thank God you’re awake.” The grad student hugged her impulsively. “Hannan says your eyes rolled back into your forehead. I thought that was just an expression.”

“Does Taggert know?”

“Vince wanted to call him on the walkie-talkie, but we stopped him.” Melody hugged her again. “You have to tell him yourself though. You know that, right?”

“I guess.” Brietta tried to stand and was pleased when her spine didn’t re-crumble. In fact, there wasn’t even a twinge of pain in that region. Just the same throbbing in her head that had plagued her for forty-eight hours.

Just a fluke
, she decided shakily.
Like you hit a nerve with that shovel. Almost literally.

She took a step just to be sure, and smiled at Melody when she succeeded. Then she heard Taggert’s voice from outside the tent as he said with a growl, “How long has she been out? God
dammit
, why didn’t you call me?”

“Uh-oh.” She almost laughed when Melody edged away just as Taggert stuck his head through the nylon screen flap.

To his credit, he didn’t seem angry at Brietta. Just concerned, at least for the moment. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

He gave Melody a glare. “Go away.”

Once she had scurried out into the night, he walked right over to Brietta and gave her a warm hug. “Vince says you collapsed. This is nuts, Brie.”

She allowed herself to savor the embrace, but just for a moment. Then she pulled free. “It wasn’t the sinus infection, Taggert, believe it or not. It was a fluky accident. My shovel hit a rock or something, and it sort of reverberated through my spine. Like a ricochet. I thought I’d never walk again, but look at me now.” She smiled confidently. “Good as new.”

“You’re saying your head doesn’t hurt? Not at all?”

“I’m saying I didn’t
faint
because of my head.” When he scowled, she admitted, “My face still hurts, but that’s to be expected. I told you, it takes a few days for the amoxicillin to kick in. But my back injury is all better. Just a fluke.”

“You’re a mess, you know that?” His expression morphed into a grin. “An archaeologist who can’t dig without passing out? That’s priceless.”

“I hit a rock,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, well, you terrified Hannan. The good news is, I don’t think he’s gonna hit on you anymore.” Without warning, he grasped her chin in his hand and forced her to look into his eyes. “Tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

She nodded, impressed by how quickly his eyes could go from clinical to blazing.

“I can massage your head and shoulders tonight if you want.”

“That’s not necessary,” she assured him, her voice haughty.

“It helped on the plane.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s not half as perverted as it sounds. You were in pain, I rubbed your forehead, you seemed better. I’ve been meaning to mention it,” he added with a sheepish smile.

She licked her lips, impressed again. “Thanks, Taggert.”

“So?” His tone turned seductive. “Tell me you’re not mad at me anymore.”

“I’m not,” she said, licking her lips again, this time in preparation for the chemistry that was building between them. He was going to kiss her, and while it didn’t make sense, it also seemed inevitable, or at least she didn’t have the will to stop it.

His hands settled on her hips, pulling her into him, just as his mouth covered hers, kissing her gently. Instinctively her hands slid behind his head, ready to urge him on.

Then her eye socket began to throb, as if to warn her not to go any further, and another set of instincts took over, forcing her to pull away quickly. “Sorry,” she told him with a wry smile. “I’m so tempted, but—well, you know. Ten weeks is a long time.”

“Right.”

“Plus, I’m a mess, remember?”

To her relief, he laughed. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Go tell everyone I’m fine, okay? I’ll freshen up for dinner. It must almost be that time, right?”

He seemed reluctant to leave, and for a second she thought he might even take another run at her. And she had a feeling she’d cave. Why else were her insides warming in anticipation again?

Then he murmured for her to “take it slow,” turned away, and strode out of the tent.

Sinking back onto her cot, she tried to clear her head, this time from confusion rather than pain.

“You don’t even like the guy,” she reminded herself. “And even if you did, what are you thinking?
Dig
sex? It always goes south, right? Or at least that’s what they say.”

She had heeded the advice of mentors—both male and female—on this subject and had carefully avoided on-site liaisons her entire career. Until today.

First you flirt with Hannan, then you swoon for Taggert. Are you nuts?

She could only hope Taggert was giving himself the same lecture, or a cold shower, or both. Assuming he respected the first rule of sexual politics where encampments were concerned. And she had a feeling he did. He was paranoid about things going wrong, and this was so,
so
wrong. Even though it had felt pretty right for a second or two.

So keep your distance. Concentrate on digging up bones while he explores the hills. The perfect division of labor
.

She smiled, realizing that he had probably planned that division for just this reason. Hadn’t he tried to bring his best friend’s fiancée as his assistant, knowing there wouldn’t be any funny business? And now he was determined to vacate the premises every day, leaving Brietta alone with the grad students—

Who are hopelessly violating the rules every chance they get
, she remembered with a groan.
What was Taggert thinking? It’s all fun and games now, but what if those two have a fight? Lovers’ quarrels, moping, taking sides
—
ugh. No wonder he put you in charge of them.

Glad to have a new reason to be mad at him, she grabbed her shower kit and headed for the lavatory tent. If she ran into him there, she’d give him a piece of her mind—so much safer than what she had
almost
given him in a moment of weakness.

* * * *

This time, it was Taggert who told stories around the campfire, regaling them with Phrygian mythology, then detouring into a Georgian version of the Golden Fleece tale. After that, he settled down to the real business at hand, explaining that they needed to get some protocols in place for when he was off exploring.

“Particularly, I want you guys to check in with me every thirty minutes. I’m still pissed you didn’t radio me when Brietta collapsed.”

“But at least I told you when you got back,” Vince reminded him.

“Oh, right,” Brietta drawled. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for ratting me out like that.”

“Huh?”

She eyed him in mock annoyance. “Starting tomorrow, you work for
me
, so forget about pleasing your hero over there, and concentrate on
moi
. Which means no more ratting me out no matter what happens.”

Vince stared, clearly horrified.

“She’s kidding,” Melody whispered.

Taggert laughed. “She’s definitely in charge of this site, but I’m still your lord and master, judge and jury. So if she so much as sneezes, I want to hear about it right away. Melody, I’m making this your responsibility. When I’m off-site, you check in with me every thirty minutes. If I don’t respond, it means I’m busy, so try again every ten minutes till we connect. Got it?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Brietta protested. “If you don’t respond, it could mean
you’re
hurt. So you need to answer Melody when she calls no matter how busy you are.”

“You’re missing the point,” Taggert assured her. Then he turned back to the grad student. “Have I made myself clear?”

She nodded solemnly.

“Excellent. Now let’s all get some sleep.”

“Good night, everyone,” Vince said quickly, grabbing Melody by the hand and half dragging her toward the small tent they had decided to share.

Hannan chuckled and said to Brietta, “He is afraid of you. And with good reason.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t forget it. Anyone who rats me out will pay.”

“And anyone who
doesn’t
rat you out will pay double,” Taggert assured her. Then he told Hannan, “That goes for you too. If Brie gets sick, or hurt—if
any
one gets sick or hurt—I want to hear about it right away.”

“And if
you
get hurt?” Brietta reminded him. “It’s a two-way street, right? Back me up on this, Hannan,” she added in the bodyguard’s direction.

“Brietta is correct,” Hannan said simply. “There are vipers up there. Including the deadliest of all. The one with three white rings on his tail.”

Taggert seemed about to argue, then he shrugged. “If I can’t answer right away, I’ll call back within ten minutes. How’s that?”

“Perfect, thanks.” Brietta gave them each a wistful smile, said, “Sweet dreams, you guys,” and headed for her tent.

* * * *

She dreamed about the mad scientist with the chain saw again, but this time he had friends. There she was, tied to a chair in the middle of the cemetery, her horror-filled screams muffled by a gag in her mouth, as a line of shadowy male figures took turns zapping her spinal cord with electrodes until her entire body quivered with misery. When she woke up, she was still terrified, but so grateful to be awake she almost sobbed in relief as she crawled out of her cot.

Pull yourself together,
she pleaded with herself as she popped her next dose of amoxicillin.
If Taggert saw you right now—

He would send her home. And maybe he’d be correct to do so.

Which means you’d better shake it off, and fast. You can’t lose this dig. It’s too amazing
.

Reminding herself of what Taggert himself had said—that dust, altitude, air pressure, and jet lag would be rough on anyone, even
without
a sinus infection—she grabbed her shower kit and hurried to the lavatory tent. Once she had created the illusion of a rested, healthy young woman, she located her boss under the canopy, where he was finishing a bowl of oatmeal.

To her chagrin, he jumped to his feet as soon as he saw her.

He probably expects you to collapse
. . .

“Good news,” she announced. “The amoxicillin has vanquished all germs, and I’m ready to dig. In other words, I’m not a mess anymore.”

“You look great.” He motioned for her to join him. “I still want you to take it easy today. There’s a storm coming in, which will probably mess you up again, right? Air pressure and all that. So don’t overdo it.”

“Okay.” She glanced around. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Hannan’s grooming Kasha. And the potheads are still in the honeymoon suite. I’m beginning to wonder if I made a mistake with them.”

“Leave them alone. They work for
me
now, remember?”

“Whatever you say,” he said with a laugh. “I’m heading out in a few minutes, so remind Mel about the walkies, okay?”

“We might have some surprises for you when you get back. We’re mostly going to grid, but if there’s time, I might let them do a little sifting, just for practice.”

He stood up and grabbed his baseball cap from the far end of the table. “I already know what you’ll find. Skeletons and not much else.”

Brietta winced at the pessimistic prediction. He had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this expedition and to hire security guards to protect it, hadn’t he? Why do all that if he was so sure it was lackluster or anticlimactic?

Not that she shared his attitude. Every instinct in her body told her the cemetery had amazing secrets to share.

“Just because
you
didn’t find anything doesn’t mean
we
won’t,” she said finally, arching an eyebrow for emphasis. “I predict you’ll be sorry you didn’t stick around.”

“Yeah? Well, I hope you’re right,” he murmured, his attention drifting northward as he studied the scrub-covered hills.

She felt a shiver of excitement. “What do you expect to find up there?”

“Huh?” He coughed lightly. “Not up there. More likely to the south. And frankly, I’m not sure what to expect. I just know there has to be some reason those guys were buried here, and that reason wasn’t buried with them. It’s out there somewhere. And,” his tone turned brisk, “I’d better get going if I want to find it.”