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Authors: Mariah Stewart

BOOK: Last Breath
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“Did they find the librarian?”

“Mrs. Weathers, yes. Yes, they did.” Sabina's dark eyes clouded.

“What?” Daria asked.

“She was found on the second floor. She was…”

“She's dead?” Daria struggled to sit despite the pain. “Dear God, Sabina, is she dead?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“How?”

“I'm not sure,” Sabina said. “She was such a nice woman. I'd gotten to know her well over the years. I spent a lot of time in the library. I considered her a friend.”

“I'm so sorry.” Daria reached out for Sabina's hand.

Sabina nodded her thanks. “The last time I saw her, in June, before I left for the summer, she mentioned that she was planning a ten-day trip to Tuscany in the fall with her sister. They were going to attend a cooking school and go on a wine tour. She was very excited about it.”

“Did she have other family?”

“Besides the sister, I don't believe so. Her husband passed away some years ago, before I came to Howe. She never mentioned any children. I imagine Louise has already called the sister.”

“I feel as if we've opened a massive can of worms and all of these horrible, ugly things are crawling out.” Daria covered her face with her hands.

“You mean because of the museum?”

“Yes.”

“Louise was explaining to us—to me and the others who were with us last night—about the murders. About how the collectors who'd acquired the pieces that had been stolen from the museum had been killed so brutally.” She shivered. “It almost makes you believe in the curse, doesn't it?”

“What curse?” Daria frowned.

“The one about the goddess seeking revenge on anyone who stole what belonged to her.”

“Where did you hear that?” The woman had Daria's complete attention.

“I read about it several years ago. It was in a book I'd picked up somewhere while traveling.”

“What was the book?”

“I don't recall the title, but it was an old volume about the oral tradition of storytelling in ancient times. The author related several versions of the same tales and demonstrated how they were altered to reflect the different cultures as they were passed along the Silk Route.”

“What did the book say about this supposed curse?”

“That the Sisters of Shandihar—the high priestesses who ruled the city—had been anointed by Ereshkigal to take her place on earth, to speak for her. Their decrees were her decrees and were to be obeyed without question, or the transgressor would be punished.”

“We know the preferred method of punishment,” Daria interjected.

“According to the author of the book, if a guilty party died before they were punished, their descendants would be cursed, stalked by the
gallas.

“The
gallas.
” Daria was sitting straight up now. “The demon spirits sent to earth by Ereshkigal to pull sinners down to the Underworld.”

“Yes, the sinners, or their descendants. It's that whole
sins of the father
thing.”

“Or in my case,” Daria murmured, “the sins of the great-grandfather.”

FOURTEEN

“W
ho is Gail?”

Daria opened her eyes slowly and blinked against the bright lights above her bed in the hospital room.

“What?” She turned her head to find Connor seated there. “What did you say?”

“I asked you who Gail is.” He got up and sat on the edge of the bed. “You were muttering something in your sleep about Gail.”

“The
gallas.
” She forced herself to sit up. “The demon spirits of Shandihar.”

“And you said you didn't do nightmares.” He leaned forward and pushed several errant blond strands behind her left ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I plowed headfirst into a wall.” She raised a hand to touch the side of her head, then thought better of it. “They said they had to shave part of my head for the stitches. How bad do I look?”

“You look beautiful.” He took her hand.

She rolled her eyes and tried to laugh it off.

“Yeah, I'm a real beauty. My face is black and blue and my hair is—”

“Stop it,” he said gently. “You are beautiful, bruises, stitches, head shaved or not. Actually, there's just a tiny bald spot there, but once the stitches are out, your hair will cover it. Doesn't matter to me.”

She felt herself blush, and the knowledge that she was blushing turned her even redder.

“Don't even try to make me believe that no one's ever told you how pretty you are.”

“Connor, I…” She bit her bottom lip. “Thank you. For the compliments. It means a lot to me, coming from you.”

“That's better.”

“What day is it?”

“It's Wednesday.”

“Morning or afternoon?”

“Afternoon. It's three o'clock,” he told her.

“Can I go back to the house?”

“That's what we're waiting to find out.”

“I feel a lot better. I really do.” She eased herself up a little more. “I really would like to leave.”

“Let's see what the doctor says.”

“How's Sweet Thing?”

“She's fine. She'll be happy to see you.”

“Where's Sabina? She was here a while ago.”

“I told her she didn't have to stay, since I was here, so she left.”

“Oh. You met her then.” Daria sighed. “She really is beautiful, isn't she? I mean, she's the classic exotic dark-haired beauty with the smoldering eyes and the fabulous smile.”

“What? Oh, yes, she's pretty. She said to give her a call if you need anything. She also said she'd like to get together with you as soon as you're feeling better.” He reached into his pocket and took out a card and handed it to Daria. “She left her phone number for you.”

“Thanks.” She took the card and closed her hand over it. “Tell me what happened in the library.”

“As best we can piece things together, our man—the killer, or someone working with him—came into the library around eight-thirty last night. Disconnected the surveillance camera, somehow lured the guard into the basement where he bashed him over the head and apparently left him for dead. We found him on the floor near the back door after the ambulance took you to the hospital.”

“His hands…?”

“He's a lucky man. He's still alive and in one piece. After that, the killer managed to get the few students who were in the library to leave—we're not sure yet how—but once everyone left, he removed the hard drive from the computer and smashed the machine. According to the two interns, they heard all of this, but didn't see the killer. When they heard Mrs. Weathers running up the steps screaming and heard the man running after her, they locked themselves in a supply closet under the stairs. That's where the police found them, huddled in the closet, scared out of their minds.”

“Where are they now?”

“On their way back to their homes. The police took their statements and let them leave with their parents about an hour ago.”

“Poor kids.”

“Smart kids. They'd have been added to the body count, if he'd known they were there.”

“There was supposed to be someone else there, wasn't there? A second librarian?”

“An assistant had been scheduled for last night, but she had car trouble and never did make it in,” he told her.

“He was still in the building, then, when we arrived,” Daria said softly.

“It looks that way. He was probably on his way out when we got there, most likely took the back steps down from the second floor when he heard us come in. The steps come down into a small hall behind the room you were in. He must have seen you there and figured he'd take you out before you could turn around and see him.”

“You think it was an accident? That he only attacked me because I happened to be there? You don't think he was after me, specifically?”

“Knowing that someone broke into your house the other day makes me inclined to say yes, he was after you specifically. But I think if he was going to kill you, he would have.”

“How would he have known I'd be in the library?”

“I don't think he did. I don't think he knew who you were. I think he just wanted to make sure you couldn't ID him.” He squeezed her hands and asked, “Have you thought about maybe going back to your parents' place until we catch this guy?”

“No. If someone's going to come after me because of my connection to this, it won't matter where I am. If he went to Connecticut to get to his last victims, there's nothing to stop him from coming to South Carolina.”

“I'll send people with you. I'll make sure you're safe.”

“I won't put anyone in my family between me and him. I don't want them involved in any way.”

She tugged on his hand. “Besides, you're here, right? You're not leaving Howe yet?”

“I'm not leaving until this bastard has been dealt with.” His eyes narrowed to dark blue slits. “One way or another.”

“Because, if he comes back…well, next time, he might get lucky.”

“I'm afraid his luck has run out. He blew the only shot he's going to get at you.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Believe it.”

“Ahem.” The figure in the doorway coughed before entering the room. “Have I just ruined a moment?”

Connor looked over his shoulder. “Yes. Go away.”

“Not on your life.” The tall dark-haired woman laughed and came in anyway.

He sighed. “Daria, meet my cousin Mia Shields.”

“Hi.” Daria reached out to take the hand Mia offered.

“Good to meet you.” Mia smiled.

“When I said ‘Come now,' I didn't mean
right
now,” Connor complained.

“Well, then, perhaps next time you could make that distinction before I drive two hours to answer your call for help.” Mia sat on the opposite side of Daria's bed from Connor. “Isn't there someplace you need to be?”

“Yes.” He turned to Daria. “I didn't have a chance to tell you I'd asked Mia to drive up and hang out with you while I tend to a few things.”

“By hang out, you mean babysit,” Daria said flatly.

“No, no,” Mia said before Connor could open his mouth. “There are no babysitters in our family. Armed companions, when the situation calls for it, but no babysitters.”

“There are some things I need to do. I can't leave you without protection, whether you're here or at the house.”

“There's a policeman outside the door, isn't there?” Daria asked.

“Yes. And I'm sure he's competent. But he isn't…he isn't one of mine. And right now, I need one of my own with you. Someone I trust.”

“Why, Connor, that's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me.” Mia put a hand over her heart. “I'm truly touched.”

“On the other hand, if her sarcasm becomes too much for you, you can boot her ass out and bring the cop back.”

“I'm sure we'll be fine.” Daria smiled. “Thank you for being concerned about me. And thank you, Mia, for coming here on short notice.”

“You're welcome. And much more gracious than Con.” Mia turned to him. “See? We'll be fine. You can go…do what you were going to do.”

Connor stood and leaned over Daria and placed a kiss on her forehead, then hesitated before placing another on one side of her mouth.

“I'll see you later. You have my phone numbers if you need me.”

“How long will you be?” she asked.

“Not sure. I just need to talk to a few people.” He pointed to Mia as he left the room. “Behave yourself.”

Mia rolled her eyes and turned to Daria. “Now, tell me how you got that lump on your head.”

         

“I need the names and phone numbers of the people who were in your office when you spoke with Daria on the phone last night.” Connor stood in front of Louise's desk, his hands on his hips.

“Connor, have a seat and I'll—”

“With all due respect, Louise, I don't have time. I have a lot of ground to cover.”

“All right. Dr. Bokhari was here—you already met her in the hospital. I saw her when she got back to campus earlier; she said Daria is doing better.”

“She's doing much better. Who else was here?”

“Nora Gannon, she's the chair of the board of trustees. And Olivia Masters. She's a long-time member of our board and a former television journalist. She's agreed to take on the role of public relations director until this nightmare is over. Oh—and Stefano Korban, one of the archaeology professors.”

“I don't recall that you mentioned he was here.” Connor frowned.

“He picked Sabina up at the airport. The other two were already here. I was bringing them up-to-date on my dealings with the bank and the insurance company when Sabina and Stefano arrived.”

“Where can I find him?”

“He lives on campus, as does Sabina. I can give you their phone numbers, as well as Nora's and Olivia's. But I'm not sure I understand why you need to talk to them.” Louise thumbed through her Rolodex.

“Other than Daria, me, my boss, and two FBI agents who were enroute to Howe, no one knew that the e-mails to the victims had been sent from the university library. Until you called Daria and she told you. I'm assuming you repeated the story to the others when you got off the phone.”

The color drained from Louise's face.

“I…I did.” She sighed deeply. “Dear God, I did. It never occurred to me not to.”

Her eyes met Connor's across the desk.

“You couldn't possibly think that one of them had anything to do with what happened in the library.”

“You tell me how else the killer could have known so quickly that the FBI was going to confiscate the computers. Someone had to have tipped him off. It wasn't Daria and it wasn't me.” His face was unreadable. “That brings me back to the little group in your office.”

“I can't believe…” She shook her head.

“I need their phone numbers, Louise.”

She wrote down the names and looked up the numbers and handed them over.

“Thank you. Now do me one more favor.” He glanced at the note before tucking it into his shirt pocket.

“What's that?”

“Don't give anyone a heads-up this time.”

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