Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 03 - Cairo Caper (22 page)

In a cloud of steam and water that would have made Old Faithful proud, the Osiris half of the medallion shot back to the roof. A huge chunk of rock broke loose and plummeted toward the pool. Roger and I wrapped our arms around each other and fell back against the cavern wall.

Spray from the rock crashing into the water covered us. I felt a strangely comforting warmth. All my pains vanished.

An object glided out of the hole in the ceiling. It floated downward with grace and serenity. It came into focus. It was the Isis half of the medallion. The Osiris half sped toward it. They mated in a crash of thunder and a flash of lightning. The medallion was whole.

A hurricane force wind howled through the cave. The medallion plunged into Darcy’s body. She expanded to the top of the cave, smoke thin, then swirling into a kaleidoscope of the rainbow spectrum, morphed into a huge distorted image of Antony, then Cleopatra, then Osiris, then Isis.

The smoky images melded into a long-necked Egyptian cat that sucked down into Darcy’s body, taking all the vapors and smoke with it. But now it was no longer Darcy’s body. She was gone, but the cat was not. Intense yellow eyes stared at me with the medallion in its mouth.

The cat started to shrink into a mummified state then leaped into the pool. The water geysered to the roof of the chamber and cracks formed. Bright light shined through accompanied by a roar. The cracks widened. The roar got louder. The place was collapsing.

Chapter Forty

I grabbed Roger’s hand and turned. My feet felt different. I glanced at them, then Roger’s. Our shoes were normal. I was wearing a matched pair of red Converse sneakers. His right foot had a right brown wingtip on it. The cut over his eye was gone. The scrapes on my hands were healed and I could have sworn I had a French manicure.

Roger was gazing upward, mesmerized by the light. I yelled, “Run! Now!” and tugged his hand.

He snapped out of it and hand-in-hand we raced out of the chamber. Rocks in our path rolled out of the way. Bright light coming through the roof cracks reflected into the burial shaft. Rocks continued to roll aside. The roar behind us grew louder. The light, much brighter than our flashlights, stayed with us. My fluorescent lipstick marks pulsed, guiding us, even though the black light was in my purse.

When we reached the end of the burial shaft and ran into the main transversal passage, the light went out. A second later the roar crescendoed, followed by a ground-shaking explosion, leaving us with total silence and the light from our flashlights.

I stopped to catch my breath then realized I didn’t need to. I placed my hand on Roger’s chest. His heartbeat and breathing seemed normal. How could that be? We should have been huffing and puffing. I felt surprisingly energized.

We worked our way through the passage. The going was much slower without the bright light illuminating the way and with the rocks stubbornly not jumping to the side. But speed was not necessary. We were no longer in danger. If we were, the cat would still be shepherding us.

“Well, Mister World Class Archaeologist, would you like to explain any of this.”

“Not everything of the ancient world can be explained scientifically.”

“How about unscientifically?”

“I think we just saw love conquer all. The medallion is whole and back with Antony and Cleopatra. It can never again be used to attempt to locate their tomb. Their gifts to us for bringing the Osiris half were healing our injuries and escorting us to safety.”

“As a scientist, you accept that.”

“Not exactly, but seeing is believing.”

“Then you won’t laugh again when I tell you that the cat we saw in the pool has been with me and protecting me since I saw the cat mummy exhibit at the museum. The cat saved me in the ladies’ room that day and Sputum said he was attacked by a cat he didn’t see.”

“How could I laugh at that after what we saw at the embalming pool?”

The embalming pool. That was surrealistic, impossible to process. But the one reality was Darcy disappearing. She went there with us twice and disappeared twice. “What do you think happened to Darcy?”

He shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll turn up again. I don’t want to see any harm come to her but I want her to stay away. Bad things happen when she’s around.”

If he thought
he
wanted her to stay away…

He gave my booty a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get out of here and find a hotel room with a great shower, a giant bathtub, and room service champagne.”

That was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I picked up the pace. We were at the base of the ladder in five minutes.

I tilted my head back. A man holding a machine gun silhouetted against the dawn sky. Damn, we were up the creek without a paddle, gun, ashtray, or mystic cat. I expected a grenade to clatter down at any second.

“Wendy? Are you okay? Is that Doctor Jolley with you?”

“Habib? We’ll be right up.”

Climbing the ladder was much easier with two sneakers. I scampered up faster than a Cirque du Soleil acrobat. I threw my arms around him. “I’ve been so worried. Sputum said you were dead.”

“It will take a lot more than Sergei Sputum’s half-baked schemes to do me in. And I see he’s no longer a worry. He appears to have died from natural causes, a heart problem, a heart problem possibly induced by his bus running over him, but a heart problem nonetheless. No investigation necessary.”

I stepped out of his arms and stared at his handsome face. Whatever mild attraction I’d felt in the desert was gone. It must have been the dangerous situation that brought it on.

Roger clambered out of the hole.

Habib extended his hand. “The famous archaeologist Roger Jolley. It is a true pleasure to meet you. I am Habib Jones.”

Roger looked confused. I said, “This is my friend. The one who kidnapped me. The one who was assigned by the Egyptian government to discreetly protect you.”

He nodded, shook Habib’s hand, and said, “The pleasure is mine.”

Habib flinched, pulled his hand back, and blew on it. He had a nasty red mark on his pinky finger where my high school ring used to be.

I said, “What happened there?”

“I’m not sure. Sputum slipped our surveillance then fired the Dark Force and me since I was his go-between. I knew Sputum had lured Sydney and Dorkovsky to the bus and that you were captives. The Egyptian troops arrived and found the Dark Force attacking. They chased them into the desert. They now have the survivors in custody.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Still the impatient Wendy. The troops were gone so I climbed up here to protect you as I could. A roaring came out of the opening, then an explosion. The ring on my finger disappeared with a flash, leaving me with this.”

What was the significance of it? Maybe the cat thought more of my feelings than I did. Or maybe the cat knew more about my feelings than I did. Early loves, even those unrecognized, die hard.

Fiona and Petri trotted up. Both of them hugged us, which felt good to me but probably offended Roger’s British sensibilities.

Fiona clapped like a seal. “Did you find Cleopatra’s Kama Sutra?”

Habib asked the question with his eyebrows.

“It’s a long story,” I said.

Roger threw his hands in the air. “Short story here. We found nothing, but lost everything. The Multi-phasic Unidirectional Density Diviner and the Osiris half of the medallion fell in an embalming pool. Then the chamber collapsed and we were lucky to escape. No medallion, no MUDD, no tomb, no place left to search. My biggest failure as an archaeologist.”

Hmmm, Roger was finally learning to stretch the truth with a ring of sincerity.

Another thought hit me. If Habib was in the area when the Dark Force hit the bus, he must have seen Tickemoff. “Do you know a guy named Tickemoff?”

Habib laughed. “Everybody in Egypt knows Tickemoff. My men picked him up right after he was thrown off the bus. He’s probably running a new scam already.”

Fiona patted Roger on the shoulder. “Don’t fret, Cleopatra’s Kama Sutra isn’t that important. Petri assures me that the Kama Sutra is for beginners. And we’re going to start a Camapoo website, free shipping worldwide. Petri is a genius and I can’t wait to launch the Ultimate Kama Sutra with Petri as my technical consultant.”

Petri, being French, didn’t react to Fiona’s less than subtle reference to their future sex life. He smiled and put his arm around her. Was he getting excited? I knew he didn’t have a pistol in his pocket.

Habib pointed to a camo-painted Humvee parked down the slope from Sputum’s bus, which had a disturbing lump under it. “Dare I say your chariot awaits?” He marched ahead.

Fiona and Petri fell in behind him, arms wrapped around each other.

Streaks of orange and magenta sunlight filled the sky. Cleopatra, Antony, the medallion, the cat, especially the cat… It was an incredibly romantic and mystic moment. I put my arm around Roger’s waist. We followed the mini-parade.

He draped his arm over my shoulder then let it slide till his hand reached my booty. The moment felt so warm and completing. He had to be tuned into the same feeling. I said, “What are you thinking?”

“About all the amazing things that made up this day.”

He rubbed my booty and slid his hand deeper, which felt very good.

“Are you thinking about the cat?” he asked.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I was thinking about a little…. a little… never mind, we can talk about it later.” I tucked my head into his shoulder and rubbed
his
booty.

The End

Dear Reader,

Thank you for taking the time to read
Cairo Caper
. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling a friend. There’s no better way for an author to find new readers than by word of mouth, one friend telling another. If you are inclined to write a review that would be wonderful! See you early next year in
Miami Mummies
- Book Four in the Wendy Darlin series.

Follow Wendy’s adventures in her Facebook journal:

Wendy Darlin Tomb Raider

Wendy and the Lost Boys
– Book One in the Wendy Darlin Comedy Mystery series

(Book Two in the Fractured Fairy Tales series)

Not really the life I envisioned when I promised to look after the criminal miscreant Charlie Hook. When Hook held me, my friend Kit, and archaeologist Roger Jolley hostage on his mega-yacht, I had no choice but to help him recover his ill-gotten treasure as we cruised to Nevis Island in search of the Lost Boys.

Amazon Kindle link:

http://viewbook.at/B005FKHKTE

London Broil
– Book Two in the Wendy Darlin Comedy Mystery series

Curry was bubbling on the stove and blood was spilled on the kitchen floor. I kept the London Eye over my shoulder as I ran from Benny Hannah’s London townhouse fearing Idi Amin’s henchmen. The clock was ticking as Roger Jolley and I raced to find the last Lost Boy during a killer heat wave in London.

http://viewbook.at/B006IH6LHA

Other books by Barbara Silkstone:

Wendy and the Lost Boys

London Broil

The Secret Diary of Alice in Wonderland, Age 42 and Three-Quarters

Zo White and the Seven Morphs

Cold Case Morphs

The Adventures of a Love Investigator

Criminally Funny Fables Boxed Set

This eBook contains bonus chapters from

Wendy and the Lost Boys

Wendy and the Lost Boys

Wendy and the Lost Boys

Copyright ©2011 Barbara Silkstone

ISBN: 978-0-9837502-2-2

Bonus excerpt from
Wendy and the Lost Boys

Pirates

Chapter One

Sometimes the journey you set out on is not the one you return from.

I lay on my stomach on Belgian cream-colored sheets in my suite on the 370-foot yacht rocking in the waters somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle. I had finished a pitcher of screwdrivers before the sun came up and was feeling woozy. As I dozed in my bikini, something jumped on my back. I tried to fight it off, rolled over, and found myself looking at a giant tongue and two beady eyes. It was like being married again.

All six feet of Hook’s bony body retreated when I brought my knee up catching him in his man-berries. He turned, rolling off the bed and abruptly slamming his johnson into the teak nightstand. His penis was huge, dark, and engorged. I was right about the blue pills in his master suite. They
were
erectile dysfunction drugs. Of course, with the name UpUGo, it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out.

“I knew you were taking that junk. Don’t waste your time,” I said to the naked old man with the flabby butt as he held himself with a panicked look on his face. “And get out of my suite. The door was locked for a reason! How’d you get in here?”

“It’s been more than four hours, Wendy,” he whimpered. “I’m still hard and it hurts like hell. Help me!” His once chiseled features hung like melted wax from his cheekbones.

“My promise to Marni to care for you did not include sex… no way… under no circumstances. That’s what you get for messing with that stuff. Just get out of my way!”

I snatched the ten-pound white hairball called Tinkerbelle from the foot of the bed and made my way to the sun deck. Hook’s
Predator
was a yacht on steroids. It took ten minutes to get from my suite to the upper floor. Hook had spent over $200 million of Ponzied money on this floating erection. He recited the
Predator’s
talents daily, like a mantra he hoped would keep away the feds, investors, and victims who wanted nothing more than to see him keelhauled.