Mummy Dearest - lanyon Josh (мир книг TXT) 📗

“For a stage prop,” Fraser said.

“I had a feeling the professor here was liable to see through it. But the mummy is genuine.”

I only half heard her. “Where did you get this?” I held the ring up to the light in order to better examine the band.

“Hmm?”

“Where did you find this ring?”

She glanced at me distractedly. “It was in the back of my grandfather’s desk. I found it a couple of years ago.”

Fraser was still brooding aloud. “So all this…this chicanery was just an effort to try to save your museum?”

Jill nodded. “Chicanery feels kind of harsh, but yes. The museum and Walsh itself. I had to do something, so I started an internet campaign about a year and a half ago. I planted mentions of the mummy’s curse everywhere I could think of. And see? Eventually it paid off.”

I was still staring at the ring. “So, how long have you had the mummy?”

“Oh, Mery’s been here since the beginning. Old Wallace brought her back from Egypt in 1903. She was the very first exhibit, and she was originally the most popular. I figured since Egyptian things are so hot now days, I’d make her the focus of the museum again. I dusted her off and brought her out of the storeroom.”

“The story about her being Princess Merneith. Who came up with that?”

“As far as I know, it’s the truth. That’s always what I heard growing up. Most of the stuff in here is admittedly junk, but it’s real junk. Even the sarcophagus is technically an antique, if you think about it.”

“So there is no curse,” Fraser said. His lower lip bore just the faintest suggestion of a pout. It shouldn’t have been cute, but it was. It absolutely was. I could feel my own mouth twitching as I watched him.

“Er…no.”

He sighed. Heavily.

I said, “If the mummy really belongs to Princess Merneith, and she really is from the Sixth Dynasty, that story about her being disgraced and possibly executed for unholy acts could be true.” I added, at the gleam in Fraser’s eye, “Nobody cut out her tongue and locked her in with flesh-eating beetles, but her name has been erased from sacred texts and removed from monuments. That’s pretty significant.”

He shook his head regretfully. “It’s interesting, but that’s not going to cut it. Not for our viewers. We needed…”

“The hom-dai,” I said.

He frowned. “No, but at the least we needed the local legend to be real, not something Dr. Slovani cooked up as a publicity stunt.”

“Solvani,” I corrected.

“Actually, it’s Hiram. Jillian Hiram,” Jill reminded us. She was looking crestfallen. “So you’re not going to do the segment?”

Fraser shook his head. “I can’t see any point to it now. I’m sorry, but this is just made up…bullshit.”

He was absolutely serious, and she was looking like she was about to cry.

“About this ring,” I said.

“Oh take it.” She wiped her eyes. “You can call it a souvenir.”

“Thank you, but uh…”

“I’m sorry,” Fraser said. “But I’ve got a responsibility to my viewers. Anyway, Drew, er, Dr. Lawson can still do his article, right? Your hoax probably makes it even better from his viewpoint.”

She nodded, uncomforted, and wiped her eyes again.

I said, “Yes, I can still do my article. What you need to do is contact Julie Scott at AMORC in San Jose. And put this in a safe somewhere.” I handed her the ring.

Jillian looked from me to the ring. “What’s AMORC? Who’s Julie Scott?”

“Julie Scott is the director of the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum which houses the largest exhibition of Ancient Egyptian antiquities in the Western United States. AMORC has the facilities to examine your mummy and to authenticate the ring.”

“You mean this ring is…real?” Her voice squeaked on the word real.

“It sure looks real to me, and if it is the real thing, then whether it belonged to Merneith or not, and whether Merneith is real or not, is immaterial. Your problems are over.”

Jill looked from the ring to me to Fraser and then back at the ring. She slipped it on her finger and promptly burst into tears, reaching to pull me and Fraser into a hug.

“Well,” Fraser said grimly when we walked out to the parking lot a short time later. “What a total fucking waste of time this turned out to be.”

I shot him a sideways look. That didn’t sound too promising.

He continued bitterly, “I can’t wait to try and explain this one to the suits. At least you’ll get your article out of it.”

I nodded noncommittally.

He blew out a long, weary sigh. “When’s your flight?” he asked abruptly.

I looked at my watch. “Eleven.”

“You should be heading out for the airport in that case.”

About two hours ago, in fact. “I should, yeah. I’ve got time to drop you at the hotel if you like.”

“No. I’ll wait for everyone here.”

Goodbye, Drew. What was I waiting for, a roadmap?

I said, “When are you and your team flying out?”

“I fly back Sunday. Tomorrow. I’ve got a meeting with the network honchos. The rest of the team is driving back Monday.”

I nodded.

Fraser met my eyes and looked away. He was definitely uncomfortable. Probably wondering what I was waiting around for. Which was what I was wondering. It was kind of funny really because I’d been preoccupied with what I wanted to have happen after last night. I’d sort of taken it for granted that Fraser was interested in…more. Maybe the easy give-and-take of the night before had simply been too much to drink. Maybe all his road trips were like this. Maybe…

“How’s the headache?” he asked suddenly.

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, as though that confirmed something. “Well…take care, Drew.” He turned to go back inside the building.

“Fraser?”

He turned back, eyebrows lifting.

I couldn’t think of what to say. I wanted to ask for a phone number, but if he wanted to hear from me he’d have offered it, right? It wasn’t like he was shy. The truth was, it was unlikely that I was feeling the way I was, let alone that he’d feel the same.

As the moment stretched and grew awkward, he said, “You’re going to miss your garden party if you don’t get moving.”

“Too late for that. I think my cucumber sandwiches have been revoked.”

He gave a little laugh, although his eyes were intent. He walked back toward me. “Are you going to tell Noah about last night?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt him.”

Fraser’s expression closed.

I said, “It doesn’t matter because last night is not the reason I’m leaving him.”

“You’re…leaving him?”

“I told you I’d broken it off with him.”

He chewed his lip as he gave me “Well, yeah, but I figured that was the heat of the moment. You even said he didn’t believe you.”

“No, he didn’t, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.”

“What will you do?”

“For starters I’m going to quit going to the opera and to flower shows.”

He smiled but his eyes stayed solemn. “Is it going to be a problem for you professionally? Not the opera. You know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean. I don’t know. I hope not. Noah said I wasn’t being offered tenure because of our relationship, and I’ve never known him to lie.” I shrugged. “I’ll have to find someplace to live, and I’m going to have to find a way to admit to my family they were right all along. The shock is liable to kill my parents.”

He gave another one of those smothered laughs. I couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to have perked up considerably in the last couple of seconds. Even his hair looked springier.

I said, “I haven’t figured it all out, but I’m looking forward to exploring my options.”

Fraser came closer still, crowding right into my personal space in that way of his. Funnily enough, it no longer bothered me. He gazed into my eyes, his own intent. “Would you like some help with that? In addition to all my other talents, I’m a pretty good listener.”