She paused to see how well he was absorbing the deluge of information. His dark eyes made another pass over the crowd, then focused on hers again. She shivered, which was getting to be her usual response to his intense gaze. “So? No mummy. Why do we care?”
“No mummy. No internal organs in canopic jars. Get it? No tomb. He had to have one as a pharaoh, maybe something like King Tut’s, a quickly converted tomb belonging to a priest or high-ranking official, because he died so soon after gaining the throne. But it’s never been found. Do you see? Those items we saw, the vase and the canopic chest, are grave goods. They could have only been found in his tomb. Donovan, someone has discovered the tomb of Ramesses VIII and is keeping it quiet.”
It only took him a couple seconds. “You mean not someone who got excited and called up National Geographic and the Egyptian Ministry of State for Antiquities.”
“Exactly. Someone who kept it secret so they could make a fortune selling it off bit by bit on the black market. Modern-day tomb robbers.”
“I can see why Wally would care. Christ, he must have been ecstatic. Preserving the past was a passion of his. But it has to be more than that. He was probably tracking the activities of our two missing archeology students, and if he stumbled across an illegal operation involving tomb robbers—”
“Then that means they probably did, too.” she finished. “They couldn’t let them go. Maybe the robbers decided two experts on ancient Egyptian tombs would be useful in identifying and sorting through everything. I think that’s where they’re being held—in the tomb of Ramesses VIII.”
“Which is where?”
“No one knows. But now we know how to find out, because someone has to go there to get me a vase.”
Chapter Thirteen
Donovan had to get Jess out of here. Her body fairly vibrated with the thrill of discovery, of solving the puzzle she’d thought was impossible. He understood. She’d done an amazing job of dealing with Mr. Atallah. They’d be nowhere without her. He’d been impressed with how well she played her role, and it was electrifying to think rescuing the hostages was within their grasp. They had plans to put in motion. But first he needed to get her off the street. She drew attention.
She was probably trying not to, but she wasn’t trained at blending in or hiding her emotions, and she certainly didn’t realize the effect she had on others. She didn’t need to jump up and down to draw the eyes of passersby. Even covered in the abaya and hijab, the sparkle in her eyes and the excitement lighting her face turned her pretty features into compelling beauty. People noticed. Passersby glanced at her, sometimes letting their gazes linger as they smiled. It made him nervous. A man had already made a public attempt on her life. He needed to make them inconspicuous, now.
He got her moving, following the flow of shoppers and tourists down the street. What he needed most right now was the anonymity of the crowds and a chance to talk to the rest of his team. In case their apartment was bugged, the street was the best place to make a call.
Kyle answered immediately. “We found the place, Eye of the Gods. We’re watching from the restaurant across the street. What are we looking for?”
This was the dangerous part. Telling an informer within Omega how much they knew could set them up for an all-out attack, but his team couldn’t be effective if they didn’t have all the facts. He’d just have to continue to play dumb about a possible mole, while being extra-vigilant.
“We ordered a vase and someone has to get it for us,” he told Kyle. “Jess thinks it’s coming directly from a tomb in The Valley of the Kings, unless they already have it warehoused somewhere. Either way, following someone to the vase should also lead us to the students.”
The abbreviated explanation required Kyle to accept his reasoning without details. Asking for more would be a red flag, a sign that he might be passing on information.
Kyle paused for no more than a second. “Got it. We follow any employee who leaves. How many are there?”
“We saw the owner and two others. I hope it’s one of them, and that he doesn’t make a phone call and arrange for someone to bring it to him. But he could, so you’ll need to take note of anyone coming in with a box. It’s going to be big, about…” He gave Jess an expectant look.
“Two feet high, maybe. And heavy.”
“Two feet tall,” he repeated. “And nearly as wide. Heavy.”
“Hard to hide. Good.”
“He’s probably going to have it there by tomorrow, so we either follow someone to it, and to the students, or catch them with it and try to make them tell us where they got it. And I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever knows is willing to die to keep that information secret.”