where the tomb is. Whether they know your father doesn’t remember, or whether they don’t give a flying fuck what he remembers or doesn’t remember, you’re the one in Cairo asking questions. It’s just not clear to me whether they’re trying to kill you, or prevent you from reaching that tomb.”
“Now you believe there is a tomb?”
“I believe that whoever these arseholes are, they believe it’s real. That’s good enough for me.”
“You were the one they attacked in the underpass.”
“And I suspect that once they killed me they’d help themselves to you, and force you to take them to the tomb.”
“But I don’t—Kidnap me, you mean?”
“It’s what I’d do.”
“And then kill me when I couldn’t do as they wanted.”
“What I’d do,” he repeated. “We’re going to ditch this vehicle in two-point-seven miles and find something else. Gather your stuff and be prepared to move fast.”
“All I have to my name is what I’m wearing and my camera.”
“Then keep your clothes on and your eyes sharp.” His voice was neutral, his fingers on the wheel relaxed. Only his eyes showed heightened awareness, like a circling hawk. Isis rubbed her arms.
When her phone rang she jumped as if someone had poked her.
“Are you going to answer that?”
She shook her head. “After all this? Are you kidding me?”
“It might be your father calling back because he remembered something.”
“God—of course.” She scrabbled in her bag for the phone. “Daddy?”
“Isis, this is Acadia. We have Uncle August, and he’s fine. Is Thorne with you?”
Isis’s heart went manic at her cousin’s words. “Yes. Let me put you on speaker.” Her fingers were clumsy as she searched for the right button. “What happened?”
“Cresthaven called us about half an ago when you didn’t answer your phone. An orderly discovered two men in your father’s room. The police have them in custody. Hang on, let the guys talk. Honey—”
“No! He’s my father.” Fear and anger tangled up inside her, causing Isis’s heart to race and her palms to sweat. “Talk to me!”
“Two Egyptian nationals broke into the professor’s room,” Zak Stark told them evenly. “Their attempt to inject him was foiled by the armed security man I had stationed outside his door, and a sharp-eyed orderly. August was scared, but unharmed.”
Isis had dozens of questions, but they raced around in her head like rats in a maze.
“I thought you were in South America?” Thorne said evenly.
“We’re en route back to Seattle as we speak. My security people have August at our home in Queen Anne Hill; security has been amped up. No one can access him there.”
“Why didn’t I know you’d posted people to protect him?” Isis demanded. “Not that I’m not grateful, but how did you know to do that?”
“Honey,” Zak said gently, “your father was attacked after he made a major discovery. I just thought it prudent to watch his back until Thorne could ascertain the facts.”
Knowing her father was safe was her top priority, but it had stupidly never occurred to Isis that the people who’d left him for dead in Egypt would travel halfway around the world to finish the job. Bile rose in her throat, and she pressed her palm to her chest. It was hard to draw breath as fear and guilt ate at her. “Thank you. God, Zak, thank you. He’s all I have. If anything—” Her voice broke. “Thank you. I’ll come home, and—”
“Wise idea. Yes.” Thorne inserted his voice hard and no-nonsense. “I’m taking her back to Cairo as we speak, and will put her on a plane bound stateside. I’ll continue on here as planned.”
“Excellent idea,” Zak said firmly, the drone of the plane’s engines faint in the background. “Let Thorne deal with the situation, Isis. Your father will be happy to have you with him.”
“He would,” Isis agreed, torn. “But he’d rather I was here finding Cleo than sitting around holding his hand in Seattle.”
“We’ve had some activity of our own over here,” Thorne said dryly. “I’ll have London read you in, so you know what’s going on on our end. Right now we have a situation to deal with.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Watch your six, and protect the professor. These people aren’t playing nice, and they’re determined.”
“Yeah. Got that,” Zak said, his tone grim. “I’ll expect that intel in the next fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Curling her numb fingers around the small phone, Isis listened to dead air for a full minute before she disconnected on her end. “I should’ve thought they’d try to get