Part 18 (1/2)
”I was, but with the photos in my hands, I had to come look at the real deal. I thought having people upstairs would disturb me, but it didn't. I hardly knew anyone else was in the building, except for when the plumbers and the electricians were poking around.”
”Can you stop for some dinner?” Connor leaned on one of the taller crates.
”I'm going to have to. The guard told me I had to be out by seven o'clock, so it's a good thing you came for me. I might have gotten locked in.” She began to pack the photographs back into their envelopes. ”How did you get in, by the way? Were you able to get a badge?”
”Yes,” he told her. ”It says FBI on it.”
”Ah, yes. Opens doors everywhere, I would guess.” She rolled her shoulders to work out the kinks.
Connor picked up the pack of envelopes from the desk. ”Is there anything else you need to do here?”
”I just need to lock up.” She looked around the room. All the crates had been repacked and secured. She dug in the pocket of her skirt for the key.
”Polly got to the airport on time?” Daria asked as she locked the door.
”I a.s.sume so,” Connor said as he followed Daria up the stairs. They waved to the guard when they reached the main floor. ”Glad to see there's some real security here.”
”They were hired by the bank,” Daria told him. ”There is another one around here somewhere, and I think I saw the university's security guard outside as well.”
”Any idea when they're going to move the collection?”
”Louise said they were going to try for the end of the week.”
They walked outside into the remnants of a summer shower that was spending its last few drops of rain. The sky was clearing as they walked back to McGowan House.
”I took the liberty of ordering a pizza and some salads to be delivered,” Connor said when they reached the back steps. ”I probably should have asked first.”
”No, no, pizza's fine. I've hardly eaten anything else since I got to Howe. I love it.” She unlocked the door and caught Sweet Thing by the collar as she was about to bolt.
”It's not ideal, but they deliver. And I figured the pizza would get here right around the time we did, since there was such a long wait for delivery tonight. Something about one of their drivers not showing up.”
”That should work out just right, then. And I'll have time to take care of Sweet Thing.” The dog jumped up to greet Daria, and she stroked the dog's head affectionately.
”She's been fed, watered, walked.”
”Oh. Thank you. Well, then, maybe I'll have time to clean up a little. I've been in that hot bas.e.m.e.nt all afternoon, and I'm covered in dust.”
”Go ahead. Sweet Thing and I will wait for the pizza guy out on the front porch.”
”I'll make it quick.” Daria disappeared into the house and ran up the steps.
She was dying for a quick shower. She was hot and sweaty and dusty. She closed the bedroom door behind her and stripped off her clothes as she headed for the bathroom. She turned on the shower and let it run for a minute or two, then stepped in. The water was cooler than she liked, but it was welcome after hours in the stale, stuffy bas.e.m.e.nt. She scrubbed her body quickly, washed and rinsed her hair in record time, and emerged from the shower feeling like a completely new woman.
Seven minutes later, she was back downstairs, wearing fresh clothes, her short hair tucked behind her ears. She hadn't taken time to dry it, so a few still-wet strands fell across her forehead. Connor and Sweet Thing were still sitting on the front porch, the pizza box and a brown paper bag on the floor between them.
”She is the best trained dog I've ever seen,” Connor told Daria when he heard the screen door behind him close. ”She is dying to see what is in that box but she won't go near it because I told her not to.” He ruffled the dog's fur. ”She is one good dog.”
”Do you think one of Damien Cross's relatives will want her?”
”I guess that's always a possibility.” Connor picked up the box and the bag and stood. ”But for now, she's yours.”
Sweet Thing wagged her tail and licked Daria's bare leg below the cuff of her shorts.
”I love her. It's going to be tough to give her up,” Daria admitted. She opened the front door and held it for Connor.
When she and the dog had entered the house, Connor turned and said, ”Throw the bolt. We don't want someone to let themselves in while we're eating.”
”Good point.” Daria locked the door and followed Connor into the kitchen.
She took plates down from the cupboard and placed them across from each other on the table.
”Knife? Fork?” She paused, her hand on the drawer where the flatware was kept.
”For pizza?” He frowned. ”What's the point?”
”Well, you never know. My sister cannot bring herself to pick up a piece and just take a bite. She says she always gets sauce on her face.”
”That's why napkins were invented.”
”I don't think we have napkins, but I do have paper towels.” She ripped a few sheets from the roll and folded them.
”We do need forks for the salad, though,” Connor said as he removed the Styrofoam boxes from the paper bag and opened the pizza box. ”I asked them to send several kinds of dressing, since I didn't know what you liked.”
”I can use anything. Or nothing, for that matter.” Daria brought two bottles of water and two forks to the table. ”G.o.d, that smells so good. I didn't realize how hungry I am.”
”Dig in,” he told her, and she did just that.
”How did you know I love pepperoni?”
”There were too many choices, so I went with an old standard.”
”This is really good, Connor. Thanks. I'm sorry for being such a c.r.a.ppy hostess. It's just that once I get into something that really interests me, I lose track of time. Not that I'm much of a cook under the best of circ.u.mstances.”
”I guess you don't get much practice.”
”Every dig I've been on for I don't know how many years has always had a cook. Meals were always prepared for us, three times a day. I guess maybe you're the same, since you travel a lot?”
”I'm a pretty good cook.” He grinned. ”Actually, I'm d.a.m.ned good. If I'd had time to get out today to the grocery store, we would not be eating pizza.”
”Maybe while you're here, I'll get to judge just how good you are.”
”Count on it.”
”Feel free. My kitchen is your kitchen.”
”I'll remember that.” He nodded. ”So you had a good day, did you?”
”I had a great day. I feel guilty about having such a wonderful day in light of everything that's happened. I can't stop thinking about how those people died, and all because of the art objects they bought. Objects that have a direct tie to me. To my family. And yet, just to see these artifacts in the state in which they were discovered...” She s.h.i.+vered slightly, a look of awe on her face. ”To see a statue that's wrapped and crated, standing where it had originally stood, centuries ago, in a temple wall. Inside one of those wooden crates is a golden diadem that the photos show was taken from the wrapped remains of a woman who had died over two thousand years ago. Unfortunately, her remains were left behind, so we don't know anything about her, except that she was wealthy enough or important enough to have owned this wonderful golden crown.”
”Maybe she was the queen of Shandihar. You said it was a matriarchal society.”