Canyon of the Sphinx (9 page)

He held up the blue panties.
Marcus eyed them. “What the hell are those?”

“You don’t know?”

“Lynn, so help me….”

“Marcus, I found them in your
tent, at the base of the futon. Are they Kathlyn’s?”

Marcus signed impatiently. “I
don’t know; they could be. My wife has a lot of underwear and I don’t keep
track of all of it. Just the pairs I like. The ones with animal print on it or something
like that. But I’ll tell you one thing; there’s no way she’d leave a pair of
underwear in our field tent. No way in hell.”

“So they’re not hers.”

“No.”

“So whose are they?”

Marcus just rolled his eyes.
“You’re asking me? How the hell do I know?”

“Well, how the hell do I know?”

Marcus had absolutely no
patience. He turned back to his sarcophagus, now very close to being readied
for the conservators. “I don’t have time for this crap. So there is a pair of
panties in my tent. So what?”

“Juliana saw Jensen leaving your
tent at dawn.”

“I was up here in the tomb before
dawn. Way before.”

Lynn knew Marcus wasn’t lying.
And he also knew, irrefutably, that there was nothing going on between Jensen
and Marcus. It wasn’t even in the realm of possibility.

“I’m sorry, man,” he said,
feeling like an idiot. “I just promised Juliana I’d get to the bottom of it. I
never really thought there was any monkey business going on.”

Marcus paused by the sarcophagus.
When he looked at Lynn, it was with eyes filled with genuine distress.

“Well, there must have been some
question in your mind, otherwise you wouldn’t have confronted me,” he said, all
of the fire out of his voice. “Do you really think, for one brief second, that
I’d actually cheat on Kathlyn?”

Lynn felt horrible. “No.”

Marcus stared at him a moment
before turning back to the mummy. “She’s my whole life, Lynn. You know that.
Body and soul, I belong to that woman and she belongs to me. I don’t know if I
can put this strongly enough. She’s the spark that keeps my heart beating.”

“I know,” Lynn said softly. He
looked at the panties in his hand. “Like I said, I'm sorry."

Marcus waved him off. "Don't
be. I should be glad that Kathlyn has people like you to take care of
her."

"You're not mad?"

"No."

"So then the question
remains; how did these get in your tent?”

“Ask Jensen. Frankly, I’d like to
know what the hell she was doing there at dawn. Maybe she put them there.”

“Do you get any sense from her
that she’s coming on to you?”

Marcus frowned. “Nope. But then
again, I could care less. Maybe she is and I’m just not noticing.”

“You two have spent a lot of time
together, going over the books.”

“True enough. But even if I
wasn’t married to Kathlyn, she still holds no interest for me. She's just
another face in the crowd.”

Lynn held up the panties. “You
want to ask her about this?”

Marcus shook his head. “I’m not
even going to waste my time. You found them; why don’t you ask her.”

Lynn nodded his head, turning to
leave the chamber. As he left the tomb, a thought occurred to him; he wasn’t
going to ask Jensen anything.

He was going to give his wife the
satisfaction of doing it.

CHAPTER
FIVE

"You guys are liars,"
Kathlyn was visibly upset. "I want you to get the hell out of here, do you
hear me? You're costing me my credibility."

The two photographers stood in
front of Kathlyn, hanging their heads like a couple of scolded kids. Kevin
Valentine was a hairy stump of a man, while his counterpart was taller,
thinner, and looked like a hippy. The two had worked with Kathlyn before on
legitimate World Geography matters. But this wasn’t one of them, as she had
just found out.

“We just wanted to see if there
was something going on here,” Kevin said. “The media is aware you’re here.
It’ll just be matter of time before they descend on you.”

Kathlyn sighed heavily; somehow,
she knew that. “So you wanted a scoop?”

“Sort of.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a scoop;
there is no scoop!”

The photographers moaned. “Oh,
come on, Dr. Trent,” John said. “Can’t we have a few small pictures, just
enough to keep people satisfied on what’s going on with you?”

“No,” Kathlyn snapped. “I just
got here myself; there’s nothing going on yet and there won’t be if you don’t
leave me alone to do my job.”

“Dr. Trent, there’s always
something going on with you,” Kevin insisted.

Kathlyn put her hands on her
hips. “Listen to me, both of you,” she snarled. “I’m giving you one minute to clear
out of here or I’ll break out my taser gun and zap your asses all the way back
to Mexico City. Is that clear?”

Kevin put up his hands. “Temper,
Dr. Trent. You’re acting just like your husband.”

“No, if I was acting just like my
husband, I would have broken your stupid neck by now.” She jabbed a finger at
the road leading from camp. “Go. Get!”

“Dr. Trent….”

“I said leave. The Wicked Witch
of the West is calling you – go join the rest of the flying monkeys. Get out!”

The photographers were grinning,
but they did as they were told. To anger her any more would be to risk never
working with her again.  The trudged back down the road to where they had
parked their borrowed truck. Kathlyn listened to it start up noisily and
watched as they awkwardly turned around on the road. Only when they drove away
in a cloud of black smoke did she exhale sharply with frustration. Mark was
standing behind her.

“What a couple of morons,” he
said.

Kathlyn could only nod her head
in agreement. She was more concerned with the fact that her integrity with
Murphy had been damaged. Sitting down on a stump that had been whittled into a
chair, she sighed.

"So now what?" she
asked. "Murphy doesn't trust me and UIR is paying big bucks for my
services. What do I do?"

"Same thing happened with
Marcus. What did you do with him?"

"Married him. But I can't do
that with Murphy."

Mark snorted. "No, you
can't. Maybe you should just let him cool down and then go talk to him. If he
still doesn't want you around, then we'll call McGrath and tell him what
happened."

"And we go back to
Egypt." Kathlyn liked the sound of that. "But I would feel bad
pulling out on Murphy under those circumstances. Even if he doesn't trust me, I
think I can help him.  That site of his is really haunted."

Mark shrugged. "We can't do
anything if he won't let us."

Kathlyn agreed. Then she looked
around. "Where are Otis and the kids?"

Mark pretended to play dumb, but
he couldn't fool her. "They went off into that gorge near the site to do
some surveying."

Kathlyn cast him a long look.
"And you let them?"

"They won't hurt
anything."

"Mark, if Murphy gets wind
of that, he'll think I've put them up to it. He'll think we're up to
something."

"He already thinks
that," Mark said flatly. "Let Otis and the boys get some measurements
and a basic topography survey.  You know Otis can piece together a masterpiece
from a finger-painting with just a few bits of information."

Kathlyn's gaze trailed off in the
direction of the gorge. "I wonder if Murphy has done any ground
scans."

"Are you thinking of using
the ground penetrating radar?"

"We brought the sled with
us."

"I know."

The wheels were turning, Mark
could tell. The GPR, the acronym for Ground Penetrating Radar, was a horizontal
radar device like a little sled that was pulled over the ground in methodical,
even motions. The data it recorded was then fed to computer software that
translated the information into a two-dimensional image. Larry and Andy had
affectionately dubbed the device the 'deadhead' because it felt much like
pulling around a dead body.

 "I don't know if the
deadhead would work here," Mark said. "The topography is too
uneven."

"You're probably
right," Kathlyn said. "The GDT would be better."

"GDT" stood for
Geophysical Diffraction Tomography, which basically accomplished the same thing
as the GPR by using an 8-Gauge shotgun device that, when fired into the ground,
picked up the returning shock waves. The software used for this device was more
sophisticated and translated three-dimensional images.  The benefit was that,
once positioned, it could almost be fired vertically provided whoever was
holding it could hold it still enough.

 "We brought both of
them," Kathlyn said. "Do you think if I made a peace overture to
Murphy by offering to do advanced surveys with my equipment that he would go
for it?"

Mark looked around. "This
isn't a high-dollar operation, Kat. UIR is probably paying you to be here as
much money as it took to establish this entire site, which is a testimony to
how badly they want your help. I think Murphy, properly soothed, would agree to
letting you use your fancy equipment for his benefit."

Kathlyn threw up her hands in an
exaggerated gesture. "I can only try, Dr. La Coste." They grinned at
each other. "Meanwhile, go find Otis and the children and get them back
over here to camp. I don't want Murphy to get wind of them wandering around
without his permission."

"You got it, boss."

Kathlyn sat there a moment, her
thoughts shifting from Murphy to Marcus. Both were hard-headed perfectionists,
but she was particularly fond of one of them. Egypt was nine hours ahead of
Mexico time, so it was near dinner time for them. Wandering back to her cabin,
she collected the cellular phone and speed dialed Marcus' number. The voice
mail came on and, disappointed, she left a sappy message. Debra Jo was seated
at the only table in the room, working on the laptop computer.  Kathlyn told
her about her episode with Murphy and photographers and the red-head rolled her
eyes.

"Valentine and Desroches are
scum," she said flatly. "Murphy has every right to be pissed off.
Looks like a set-up."

"I know," Kathlyn said.
"I'm going to try to appease the angry god by offering to do site scans
with the GPR and the GDT."

Debra Jo looked at her over the
top of her glasses. "If that doesn't work, I'm a willing human
sacrifice."

Kathlyn grinned. "You kind
of like him, don't you?

"He's a cutie."

"Agreed. If I wasn't
married, I might fight you for him."

"You wouldn't last thirty
seconds against me."

Kathlyn grinned. "I know. You’d
kick my ass."

"You got it. Hey, do you
want me to set up the scanners?”

“If I can pull you away from what
you’re doing.”

“No problem.”

Kathlyn left the cabin, hands in
the pockets of her jean shorts as she strolled across the encampment. She was
confident that Murphy would accept her explanation and apology and let her go
to work.  The site was less than a quarter of a mile over the ridge and she
hiked up the trail, enjoying the fresh air and scenery.

The trail wound down and around
until it came to the vista overlooking the gorge. She paused a moment, looking
down over the greenery. She couldn't see Otis or Larry or Andy, and there was
no sign of Mark, either, but she knew they were somewhere in there, nosing
around. She could only hope they did their business and got back to camp before
Murphy figured out what was going on.

It was a warm day and the sun was
out. Without the humidity, it would have been perfect. Kathlyn took a step
back, away from the overlook, and prepared to continue along the trail. No
sooner had she stepped back than she felt a sharp stab to the back of her right
leg, just below the knee. It was very painful. Startled, she looked to see what
she had bumped into.

An elaborately-colored snake was
latched to her leg. With a piercing howl, Kathlyn stomped her leg and the snake
fell off, scattering back into the undergrowth. But it had left two huge fang
marks and Kathlyn knew that she had just been poisoned.  Her heart began to
race with fear and as she turned toward the trail again, Murphy and Levine
already were racing up toward her from the site down below.

"What happened?" Murphy
yelled up to her.

Kathlyn was beginning to feel
faint, either because she was terrified or because the venom was already going
to work, she wasn't sure. "I got bit," she said simply. "A multi-colored
snake. I backed in to it somehow and it bit me."

Murphy reached her. "Where
did it bite you? Show me."

She turned around, displaying the
neat puncture wounds just above her black boot tops. Murphy didn't waste any time.