The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,9

tent to the chirping of her satellite phone. Stacks of books covered her camp table. She pushed them aside to reach the handset. “Hello?”

Static fizzed in her ear. “Sara? Is that you?”

Sara recognized their secretary from the office at home. Agitation laced the woman’s voice. “Holly, what’s wrong?”

“Th-There’s been a burglary.”

Her heart skipped. “Are you all right? Is everyone all right?”

“Yes. Everyone’s fine. It wasn’t at the office.” She paused, and Sara sensed her reluctance to continue. “It was your house.”

Sara’s throat constricted. She dropped shaking into a chair. “Did someone see what happened?”

“Mrs. Shoemaker next door said she saw a man walking around the building yesterday. He told her he was from the power company. Did you have them scheduled to read the meter?”

“No. Did the police come?”

“He left before they got there. She gave them a description and a report,” Holly explained, sounding calmer now that the bad news was out.

Sara fidgeted with her books. Mrs. Shoemaker was a nice, elderly woman with a penchant for being into her neighbors’ business. For once, Sara was glad of it. “What did they take?” she asked.

“Some jewelry...”

Sara’s fingers flew at once to the amulet hidden under her sweater. She eyed the cooler in the corner, longing for a large bottle of cold water to ease the sudden, desert dryness of her mouth. “What else?”

“Your stereos and televisions. A lot of your things got opened, dressers and boxes and stuff. I don’t think anything else was stolen. What do you want me to do?”

“We can’t leave the dig. Give me the number to the police station, and I’ll call them. I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything until we’re home. Is the office all right?”

“Yes. Should I call your mother? She’s in the Keys this week, isn’t she?”

“Yes, please,” she replied, thankful for Holly’s composure. Right now, she couldn’t claim the same attribute.

When she hung up, she hurried to the dig site, feeling cold to the marrow of her bones. “Faith.”

Her sister stood ankle-deep in loose earth, sweating with the effort of digging in spite of the cool morning. She jammed the end of her shovel in the peat, then climbed out of the trench. “What I wouldn’t give just to be able to pull this all out with a backhoe,” she muttered once she reached Sara’s side. She gave a groan, stretching the muscles of her back, then lifted her golden-blond mane to air the nape of her neck.

In the middle of a catlike arch, Faith stopped, listening. “All right, that’s it. Something’s here, and—” She scanned the dig site, but neither Thomas nor Dustin were around. “I’m not even using my power,” she added in a harsh whisper, “and something keeps trying to get my attention.”

“Our house was robbed,” Sara blurted.

Her sister blanched.

Sara hadn’t meant to let it out so quickly. “No one’s hurt,” she added. She explained what Holly had told her. Her hand went toward her throat, then dropped again. “I don’t think this was a random event.”

Faith pursed her lips. Her gaze went to Sara’s sweater. When she spoke, her voice was low. “I think we’d better find out what that necklace is, and quick.”

“We’re out of stakes,” Dustin announced behind them. “Do either of you have more in your tents?”

Sara flinched at his appearance, but Dustin didn’t notice. “I’ll go get them.” She shot a meaningful look at her sister.

Faith nodded understanding. They would hit the books tonight, and find out more about the amulet.

Before someone else found them in possession of it.

****

The day’s digging progressed faster than Sara had hoped. The sun rode its arc overhead, and by the time it dipped into the western horizon, they had managed to remove the first layer of earth from around the wall. She was bone-tired at the end of the day, and only too happy to flop down beside the cooking fire. Comforted by its glow, she rubbed her sore neck muscles. “This is a well-earned meal.”

“That’s for sure,” Thomas agreed, tossing hamburgers on the grill.

While they waited for the food to cook, she recounted the facts of the day’s work and went over their goals for tomorrow. Dustin sat nearby, sketching in a notebook, his face glowing in the firelight. Across the fire, Faith watched him work with a drowsy abstraction and began to nod off.

A moment later, her sister’s head snapped up. “Hi, Ian,” Faith called into the darkness.

Sara’s belly flopped. She looked past Faith. As he neared the campfire, Ian’s form