again with a puzzled frown. “I don’t understand. Surely you are not suggesting that he has anything to do with these attacks?”
“We believe my father visited him around the time he found the tomb. The basket you were keeping for Dad contained the tassel from a carpet. Dr. Najid’s carpet. We think my father left it as a clue for himself, but we can’t figure out what their connection was. As for the broken stick—” She shrugged. “Do you have any idea why he’d want that? The minister denies knowing or ever meeting my father.”
“There would be no reason for their paths to ever cross. Dr. Najid has held that prestigious position for more than three decades. He is considered a big hero for bringing water to the desert with the new dam in the Valley of the Scorpions. He’s well liked and well respected in the community. He’s known as a connoisseur of Egyptian artifacts, and has a well-documented and well-publicized collection. But as far as I know he doesn’t sponsor digs, at least not that I’ve ever heard.”
Isis’s palm was damp, but Thorne kept his fingers twined with hers. He didn’t remember when he’d ever done something as simple as hold a woman’s hand. It felt oddly… right. “Would their paths have crossed socially?”
The older man smiled. “Socializing in that rarefied environment would make August supremely uncomfortable. And while I consider him my brother, and mean no disrespect, he does not enjoy feeling inferior socially. His milieu is the area in or around his precious tombs. That was where he always took prospective sponsors. Out to whatever dig he was showcasing, where he was in control and, how do you say it—the star of the show. Not to detract from my old friend, but he was a showman. And he knew what pleased the moneymen.”
He shook his head. “No. I cannot see August attending afternoon tea, or a soirée in Dr. Najid’s social circles. This would be highly unlikely.”
Thorne saw that the older man was tiring, and got to his feet, tugging Isis with him.
“We’ll go now,” Isis said, then walked over to wrap her arms gently around the older man’s shoulders. She rested her check against his for a few moments, then kissed him and stepped back. She slid her hand back into Thorne’s. “If you need anything, Husani will contact us.”
NINE
They got back in the car. Isis didn’t ask where they were going. Right then she didn’t give a damn. She was hot and sweaty and scared. Turning up the AC to high, she directed the vent on her chest.
“I’d rather these people get what they so desperately want,” she said bitterly as cold air hit her damp shirt. “What’s their agenda? They left my father for dead; they almost killed Beniti. God—they almost killed you.”
“What are you saying?” Thorne asked, starting the Jeep and pulling into the street. He seemed distracted, and even more curt than usual, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirrors now and then. Isis knew a car was following them. She’d seen it in her side mirror as they crossed the bridge. She knew he knew it was there. There didn’t seem to be any point discussing it. His gun had been in the seat between them the whole time.
The knots in her shoulders had knots.
He cut in front of a flatbed truck carrying metal pipes, then wove between five cars in quick succession. She liked the look of his large hand on the steering wheel; it looked competent and strong. Neither of which she felt right then. The bright sunlight accented the thin, shiny white scars across his fingers.
“You want to find Cleopatra and hand her over to thieves and murderers?”
“Yes. No.” She took off her glasses to rub her eyes. “Of course not.” She put her glasses back on. “But if doing so will stop this insane cat-and-mouse chase, then maybe that would be the wisest course of action.” It would literally kill her father to know someone else would get credit for the discovery of the century.
But they’d all be alive, and he could spend the rest of his life whining about it. Her shoulders slumped. “I want to find Cleo, and I want the bad guys to leave us alone.” She knew she sounded petulant, but it was the truth.
“It’s good to want things. One’s not going to happen if we continue along the path that’s already set. It’s obvious they—whoever the hell they are—believe you know