Page 47 of Ancient Obsession

“Yep, they probably would. But not if we call in an anonymous tip.”

“That’s a good idea. But are there really anonymous tips these days? They can track any phone number in seconds.”

“True. But what if it’s from a payphone?”

Oliver frowned. “Are you going to travel back to the 1900s?”

Dave laughed. “No, smart ass. On the two trips I’ve made to town lately, I noticed a payphone outside the 7-Eleven. We can stop and call in an anonymous tip, say we heard a scream and think someone might be in trouble around the library.”

“Okay. I like that. Let’s go.”

They were quiet on the walk back to the car. Oliver was tired from the events of the day—had it all happened in just one day?—and he knew Dave had been through an emotional roller coaster as well. When they reached the car, Dave directed him to the payphone and had him park toward the back of the building. He leaned into the back and shifted some things around.

“I know, I need to clean that crap out,” Oliver said. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for…this.” Dave turned and put a baseball hat on his head, pulling the brim down low to hide his face. “What do you think?”

“You’re suspicious,” Oliver said with a chuckle, then cocked his head. “Also, kinda hot.”

Dave got out of the car and, head down, approached the payphone. He lifted the receiver, listened, then punched in 911. He spoke briefly before hanging up. Then he picked up the receiver again, used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it clean and then wiped his fingerprints from the keys.

When he got back in the car, Oliver was smiling. “I am impressed with your spy capabilities.”

Dave grinned. “Yeah? Maybe it’s a new career move. Let’s get out of here.”

Oliver pulled out of the lot and headed for home. Once they’d left Glenmont, he felt a gentle calm—or was it exhaustion?—fill him. Dave put a hand on his leg, his palm warm and reassuring as the car chased its headlights. Everything else could be figured out. He hoped Samira was safe, but he was also ready to dig into her notes and study the material they'd found. Maybe then some of this would start to make sense.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Oliver didn’t sleep much that night. When his brain did allow him to drift off, he woke a short time later, his dreams evaporating before he could remember them, but leaving him unnerved.

At five, he gave up. Dave breathed deeply on his side of the bed, and Oliver took a moment to study him in the dim light. His expression was peaceful, his dark brown beard full and neatly trimmed, and a warm rush filled Oliver’s chest. He was truly fortunate.

Easing the bedroom door shut behind him, he made a stop in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen. He set up the coffee maker then sat at the table with Samira’s notebook. Later that morning when he returned to campus for class, he’d see if Robin could get Samira’s number from Beryl. He hoped she was okay, but the fact she’d left this important possession behind made him uneasy.

The coffee maker gurgled to a stop and Oliver poured himself a cup. He and Dave had talked about getting one of those pod machines, but Oliver liked being able to control the strength of his brew. Today he definitely needed something stronger.

Returning to the table with his coffee, he picked up the sealed sandwich bag he had transferred the scrap of material to the night before. There was no doubt in his mind it had come off Amenmose. But how it had ended up in the bushes outside the library was still a mystery.

Okay, he had some idea how it had come to be there. But it was crazy for him to even contemplate. And even if it was true, how would he convince Detective Carter?

He sipped his coffee and inspected the fabric. What had awakened the mummy? And why was it murdering the people who had opened his coffin?

An idea came to him, and he sat up straight. He rubbed his thumb across the pads of his fingers, recalling the feel of the material and the hard line of bone beneath. But he also remembered the slightly tacky substance that had coated them all once they’d opened the coffin.

Had they all been exposed to some kind of pollen or spore? Could that same substance have brought Amenmose back to life? Was he angry at being resurrected in such a debilitated state and taking revenge on the people responsible?

A hand on the back of his neck made Oliver jump and shout in surprise. Heart hammering, breath locked in his chest, he swiveled and planted his feet, ready to launch himself out of the chair.

Dave stepped back, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry. I thought you heard me come up behind you.”

“Holy fucking hell.” Oliver’s body went limp. He put a hand on his chest, heart galloping beneath his palm. “You scared me.”

“I’m so sorry. I should have said your name. Are you okay?”

“I will be. Give me a minute.”

Dave poured himself some coffee and sat across from him. He had both hands around his cup and stared into it, avoiding Oliver’s gaze.