Familiar Mirage. Caroline Burnes
Читать онлайн книгу.
I can almost smell it. She’s here on a mission, and nothing is going to stand in her way. I think I’ll sidle over, do a little eavesdropping and see what she’s up to.
Hmm. She’s an anthropologist, and she’s brought enough equipment to examine the tombs of the pharaohs. I just love women who dig up bones. That’s sort of my job—digging up bones and clues and anything else that helps solve a mystery.
So she’s looking for a lost civilization. Interesting, and not just to me. There’s a man behind that pillar who’s just as curious about Miss Explorer as I am. In fact, I’d say he’s even more interested.
My, my. This man reminds me of nothing if not a hawk. And Miss Explorer seems to be his chosen meal. He’s watching her as if he’s about to dive down and attack at any moment.
At last she’s got all her stuff together, and all those people who seem to be with her. There must be five people in her party, and from the looks of them, they all work outdoors. They’re moving to the bus to go into town. Good. The man who was watching her is going in the opposite direction. Perhaps he was just a pickpocket.
Nah! I’d be willing to bet my elegant black hide that he’s not a common thief. The way he was watching Miss Explorer sort of made my hide itch.
I guess the only noble thing to do is get on the bus with Miss Explorer and head into town. Peter and Eleanor are staying at the Abbula, the ritziest hotel in town. I can find them there in time for dinner.
You know, I love this place. I can stroll around and no one pays the least bit of attention to me. There are cats everywhere. Some really hot little purr-furs, too. It’s a little-known fact, but Cleopatra was a cat in a former life. That’s when she learned to become such a seductress. She had a definite appreciation for her feline nature, and boy, did Mark Antony learn about it the hard way! I see one long, elegant black puss that might have a bit of the Cleopatra bloodline in her veins. But I have to behave. My heart belongs to the beautiful Clotilde, and I would never betray her trust.
I’m on the bus and settled just beneath the feet of the intrepid female explorer. The other members of her crew are calling her Beth. Now that’s a nice sensible name. I’ll just have to keep tabs on her for a little while to make sure that man from the airport isn’t following her.
Eleanor and Peter will be worried, but I’ll be back with them by dinnertime—and that’s one promise I intend to keep. The last time they took me abroad and I disappeared in Ireland, they said they were never taking me out of the country again. I can’t screw up my second chance at international travel, or they really won’t let me out of Washington.
BETH BRADSHAW felt as if her body was on the verge of rebellion. She was exhausted. It had taken all of her energy to get her band of archaeologists and anthropologists onto the plane in New York and down in Alexandria. It was only when the jet had begun its descent and she’d looked out the window and seen the jewel of the Mediterranean shimmering like a blue opal beneath her that she realized she was actually about to land in Egypt. After months and months of planning, the real adventure was about to begin.
As the bus lumbered through the crowded streets of the city, Beth looked out the window at the passing sights. It was as if she was in a dream. The streets were full of men and women in the flowing robes of the Middle Eastern culture, though there were a few in western garb. Dark eyes gazed back at hers with mixed expressions of interest, curiosity and mild amusement.
And cats were all over the place.
She felt something brush against her feet and leaned down to discover a big black feline purring against her ankles.
She sighed. She wasn’t particularly fond of cats. She was more a dog person. Cats had a streak of arrogance that left her feeling cool toward them. Dogs were always glad for a pat and some attention. Sort of like herself. Yep, she was definitely a dog person, while her best friend and self-appointed sister, Amelia, was the cat person.
“Beth, I thought our guide was going to meet us in the airport.”
She looked up to find John Gilmore standing over her. She was already exhausted and John was an energy drain. No matter what was happening, he always found fault and something to worry about obsessively. “The guide knows the hotel we’re staying at. I’m sure he’ll find us there.”
“But he said he was going to meet us in the airport. It upsets me that he didn’t show. We’re going deep into the desert with this man. We have to be able to trust him. Is he reliable?”
It was a question Beth had asked herself, but as she looked around the bus and saw that all her employees were listening, she knew she had to show absolute faith in the missing Omar Dukhan—even if she wanted to string him up for failing to live up to his word.
“Mr. Dukhan has an impeccable reputation as a guide. I’m sure there’s a reason he didn’t meet us in the airport. Once I talk to him, I’m certain I’ll be satisfied with his explanation.”
“And if you’re not?” John asked.
“Then I’ll find another guide.” She looked around, meeting the eyes of the four other members of her crew. “I won’t risk your lives or mine with someone I can’t rely on.” She forced a smile. “Many of you have worked for me before. I believe you call me Mama Beth behind my back, because I tend to mother my crew.” She lifted an eyebrow and waited for the denials that didn’t come. “Good. You know I’ll take care of everything.” She refocused on John. “I’ll handle it, okay? Please don’t worry anymore about it.”
She watched as he returned to his seat, his face drawn with worry. He fretted over the smallest things, but he was the very best excavator she’d ever worked with. And he was a top-notch anthropologist, too. He would be invaluable in helping to establish the culture of the secret city—when she found it.
For a moment she allowed herself to slip into the dream. She was standing in the middle of a temple with an obelisk that depicted Ra, the sun god worshiped in ancient Egypt for thousands of years.
Beside the obelisk was a limestone statue of an exotic creature—a lovely feminine form with the head of a cat. Con, the mythic goddess, queen of a very secret cult.
Many Egyptologists believed that Con was a legend, as were so many of the gods and goddesses in ancient civilizations. But Beth knew better. Con had been a living, breathing woman, and she’d wielded tremendous power because of her special gift. She was a seer, a woman who had the power to view the future. And Beth believed—and intended to prove—that Con had lived in the Libyan Desert with her female followers, a tribe of women with the legendary skills of the Amazons and the added gift of second sight, a talent they’d used to manipulate the future.
As always, her heart began to race with the idea of finding the village that everyone else said was fiction.
“It’s there,” Beth whispered to herself. “It’s there and I’m going to find it.”
And become world-famous as a researcher and anthropologist, to boot, she added in her thoughts.
“Must be a nice fantasy you’re having,” Mauve Parker said as she plopped into the seat beside Beth, wiping sweat from beneath her bangs. “Doubtless about someplace cool with lots of shady trees. Why is it that ancient civilizations always seemed to thrive in hot, dry climates where there aren’t any trees?”
Beth laughed easily. “Only a girl from Alabama would miss trees. Anyway, my fantasy is right here in Egypt. We’re in the secret village, and there’s a temple where the inhabitants worshiped Ra and Con.”
“Sounds nice, but sort of ordinary,” Mauve teased.
“Everything is perfectly preserved.” Beth said the last with big eyes and emphasis.
“Once we find it and reveal it, that won’t be the case for long,” Mauve said with a touch of bitterness.
“I know. Once we reveal the site, it becomes part of the public domain. It won’t be our private discovery. But we’ll have it all to ourselves