The Unspoken

“Yes.”



“And you think that might have something to do with what’s happening now?” Logan asked him.



“I don’t know how or why, but yes.”



Logan didn’t argue with him. “We have to find the connection, but we’re not going to do that tonight. People have to sleep. We’ll meet tomorrow and figure out where we’re going. Get Kat back to the hotel, and both of you…get some sleep.”



Will was glad to do as ordered. Kelsey and Logan stayed out front; he left with Jane, Tyler, Sean and Kat, so that they could all grab something to eat before Tyler and Jane started their nighttime stakeout.



They returned to the hotel, having grown accustomed to the restaurant there. Not only was it a comfortable place, the other diners had already finished due to the lateness of the hour, so the group could speak freely. But as they sat down, Will found himself remembering that it was only a few days ago that someone—someone in the hotel—had been prowling around their floor.



Leaving authentic mummy wrappings smudged on the wall.



He made a mental note to ask Logan if the guest roster had been thoroughly checked out for the night in question. One thing was certain; their visitor had not left the hotel after being on their floor that particular night.



“Steak!” Jane said. “A steak. I’m starving. And Chicago is known for its steak!”



“Italian food, too,” Tyler reminded her.



Kat had been quiet. Jane placed a hand over hers and Kat started, looking at her friend. “Kat, I’m not surprised that the image you’ve seen is that of Amun Mopat. When I was researching today, I came across similar images. But, according to what I read, the priest wasn’t popular with one of Ramses’s descendants, the boy king, Tutankhamun. During that era, his images and statues were all broken or marred. But, of course, his image does remain in places where those who came after him didn’t know who he was. You must have seen it somewhere.”



“Icebreaker,” Will said.



“Icebreaker?” Tyler glanced at him. “You want a drink?”



Sean laughed. “No. Will thinks that an icebreaker rammed the Jerry McGuen.”



“Why?” Jane asked.



“Because,” Kat said, “someone didn’t want the Jerry McGuen making it to Chicago,” she said with certainty.



“Interesting concept.” Will looked at the others thoughtfully. “All right, we’ve been going at it from what would seem to be the obvious angle—someone out there ready to kill for the treasure. But what if someone is killing others so the treasure won’t be found?”



“Someone who believes in the curse of Amun Mopat,” Kat said.



“After a hundred-plus years?” Tyler asked skeptically.



“I think it’s possible,” Will said.



“That brings us back to the Preservation Center itself, the Egyptian Sand Diggers or perhaps one of the two salvage companies.” Jane counted them off on her fingers. “The connection is what we need.”



“We’ll figure it out,” Will said.



“I’ll go to the library tomorrow and look at their newspaper archives for 1898,” Jane said.



“We can find out who was in business with icebreakers at the time, too,” Sean added.



“That’ll be important,” Will said with a nod.



“How does an icebreaker fit with my…vision of a giant Amun Mopat coming to swallow up the Jerry McGuen?” Kat mused aloud.



Will noted that Tyler squeezed her hand. They were good friends; they’d known each other a long time.



He envied Tyler.



“We’ll figure it out,” Will said again.



Kat was silent for a minute. “We’re all quite accustomed to the fact that souls can stay around. We try to make contact. There are rare occasions when the dead saw what happened, when they can help an investigator uncover clues that can prove the truth. So…would it be so ridiculous for Amun Mopat to be…somewhere?”



“You’re saying, what? His soul’s been haunting the lake for all these years? And before that, his soul was haunting…his own tomb?” Jane asked.



Kat shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know that I saw his face—or the mask of his face—before we saw him.” She paused. “There was something odd about the face. It had no animation. Now I know that’s because it was a death mask.” She smiled ruefully at Will. “Usually, when we meet a ghost, even a new ghost, there’s an animation about him or her. Austin Miller, for instance—I could see him just as he must have been before he died. But he was animated. He was like he’d been when he was…alive.”



They finished their meals, Kat managing to eat a Greek salad, while Will ate English-style fish and chips.



Jane, done with her steak, yawned and stretched, then eased her chair back. She tapped Tyler on the shoulder. “We should go spell Logan and Kelsey. We need to let them get back here.”



“Yep,” Tyler said. “But, come on—we’re taking it until six in the morning.”



“What happens at six?” Sean asked him.



Tyler grinned broadly. “You come on!”



“Oh. Well, then, excuse me, I’m going to get some sleep.”



“We’re right behind you. I’ll just sign for dinner,” Will said.



The others waved. As Will smiled and made a motion in the air to indicate he needed the bill, he saw that Kat was still frowning.



“What’s the matter?”



She glanced at him and managed a quick smile. “I’m just being obsessive. Now I have it in my head that there’s something wrong with the face I see coming to devour the ship.”



He slipped an arm around her. “One thing Logan is right about—we need some sleep. Maybe it’ll all seem clearer in the morning.”



She nodded.



And going to the room with her was so natural, so easy. Kat had to be exhausted; he was, too. His muscles were sore from all the diving he’d done and from straining as he hauled the crate.



But when they entered his room together and the door was closed, he suddenly felt a new surge of strength. She turned into his arms, and they were entangled in a long, hot kiss. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “And I thought you’d be tired.”



“You worked harder than I did.”



“I was hurting all over, but now…”



They lunged toward each other again, and their clothing began to fly around the room. As his shirt landed on the bed, they were startled by a plaintive meow. They paused, staring at each other, and then laughing. Will walked over to the bed and lifted the shirt.



A very indignant Bastet lay beneath it.



“Ah, poor kitty!” Kat laughed again as she stroked the sleek head. “She’s got food?”



Will checked on the bowls. “The cat is fine. Water and plenty of food.”



“Then, Bastet, I promise you more attention in the morning. For now…well, it looks like you have your own room for the night.” She turned away from the cat and leaped into Will’s arms. “Actually, it’s not a good use of government money,” she said, “a cat having a room of her own.”



He smiled at Kat and kissed her, then carried her through the connecting door, still kissing her. They’d scattered their clothing throughout the two rooms by the time they reached the bed, and they were breathless when they fell on top of it. The thrill of being together was so new. He was in awe of the delicate, pale beauty of her skin and the blond silk of her hair as it fell over the bronze of his chest and arms. Whatever was happening between them was something he’d remember all his life. They had a bond, he knew, that was deep and real and unforgettable. But where it would take them he didn’t know. Still, he wondered if any children they had would be dark or light, or light with his dark eyes and her sunlit hair or…



He stopped wondering as her kisses ran down his chest and below, and all he could think of was the desire burning fiercely through every part of him. He brought her close, found her lips again, rolled with her on the expanse of the bed—and then paused, despite the urgency of his passion. His fingers curled over hers as she gazed into his eyes. She smiled at him, and he trembled. He lowered himself, thrusting into her, and in minutes they were so entwined they were nearly one.



Climax came with a shattering impact and they lay together in silence. She nestled against him, and his fingers brushed the curve of her hips. They didn’t speak. It was so easy to be together and—even better—it was easy to wake together. He turned to her, and he saw that while he was feeling the sizzle inside once again, her lashes were closed. Her breathing was even.



She was sound asleep.



He smiled, lay back and stared at the ceiling.



* * *



There was nothing as sweet as the comfort of deep sleep.



Kat drifted in that sphere for hours. When she dreamed, it wasn’t of the current time or place. She felt safe and secure, and she thought she was at home. She’d had wonderful caring parents who had worked hard. Her father, naturalized when he was ten, hadn’t forgotten his own family, and as aunts and other relatives came over from Russia and Soviet Bloc countries, they were made welcome in their home.



While her dad had quickly become a chef to help support the family, her uncle Nick had gone through medical school, and he was the one to open the world of medicine to her. When she was young, he and others were often at the house. She’d loved it; the kitchen would smell delightfully of pastry baking, and when she came home from school, she’d curl up on the couch and watch television, listening to them in the kitchen. Her aunt Olga often visited her mom in the afternoons to teach her Russian. Kat would hear them greet each other, and then her aunt would say, “Okay, now. In Russian. Privet!”



Talk to me. It was an all-around greeting. I pray you. How are you doing? What would you like?



Home was a good, safe place to be.



She missed her parents. Her mom had moved to Florida after her father’s death. Of course, her mom had become part of her dad’s family so sometimes everyone still gathered for reunions in San Antonio, reunions filled with delicious food, with conversations and laughter and love and so much warmth.