Return (Matt Turner Series Book 3) (29 page)

“She said she’d come out. Five more minutes. Maybe enough time to fill me in on … I don’t know, everything?”

Matt frowned. “Like what? This?” He pointed to his chest. “Or
all this
?” A finger swirl in the air.

“All of the above! I know nothing! I mean, something
obviously
happened on the island—something that surprised you, that you’re still tripping on. And as far as ‘all this’ …” She mimicked his finger swirl. He appeared genuinely dumbstruck. “… I’ve tried to be a good trooper and do as I’m told, no questions asked, but that’s not how you sold this relationship back home. If there’s stuff I don’t get to know, like for my own protect−”

He motioned for her to stop. “I’m sorry, Joss. As far as this whole mission goes, I just assumed … I guess because you’re pretty much setting up all the−”

“There’s the problem,” she grinned. “You keep thinking I’m smart.”

He swatted away the modesty as he removed his seatbelt.

He shifted in the passenger seat to face her. “To put it succinctly, we’re ravaging Absko’s world through multiple fronts, including foreign governments who want him imprisoned, and now through Ostrovsky and furious others who were betrayed and are burdened by fewer legal constraints, with the goal of luring Absko out of his country where one or more interested parties will be able to capture him.”

He paused for a breath.

She opened her mouth to ask another question.

He cut her off with a hand, resuming. “At the same time, we’re stringing Ostrovsky along with the promise of long lost scrolls, maintaining a communication path through which we can a) further the Absko goal, and b) assist Mrs. Absko in her getaway.”

She waited a beat, eyebrows perked. He graciously motioned to proceed.

“That was all great. Great summary. So what’s the deal in
there
?” indicating the Taria hanging behind his T-shirt.

Matt took a deep breath, an awkward smile scrunching his mouth as he deliberated. He was debating whether to tell her. Apparently it was as big a deal as she’d thought. As seconds passed, she wondered if it’d be best to let him off the hook. In truth, he wasn’t obligated to tell her anything. It was simply a courtesy, and his promise of honesty a week ago was so she could trust him, and not question his motivations with her. Trust was no longer an issue, and this was his own thing.

Matt spoke up before she could stop him
. “Something did happen
with the Taria. On the island … and since. Something … unprecedented. It’s not that I’m keeping secrets, it’s just that I’m still in the process of figuring it out. The imprints are … um, well, I haven’t really explained to you how it normally works, but this thing’s different. I have no control over how it plays out. I just have to watch what she’s showing me.”

“Watch what she’s showing you? ‘She’ as in Patra? The librarian?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I’m still figuring it all out. When I have a better understanding, you’ll be the first to know.”

He offered Joss an earnest smile, and touched her leg. She liked it too much—the notion that he felt obliged to share his experience, like she was a partner in this adventure, not the leg touching thing … well, maybe a little of that, too—and so she reverted to the former topic.

“Back to your uber-complicated scheme real quick. What happens after the whole Absko thing is done? I presume Ostrovsky’s not going to up and forget about his coveted scrolls, and I take it there aren’t really any out there to be discovered?”

“You’re half-right there …”

Over Matt’s shoulder, Joss spotted a figure—two figures—exiting the complex gate. The woman, Jo Shelsher, wore wide-legged cargo capris, a long denim shirt, beat-up leather boots, and a wide-brimmed sun hat. Mrs. Shelsher was recognizable from her online photos, but Joss hadn’t a clue about the man walking with her. He was a bit below average in height, slim, dark-skinned, with spiky hair,
and wore a short-sleeved, plaid button-down, and khakis.

She pointed, interrupting Matt. “Here she comes.”

Matt spun around. “Oh … shit.”

“What?”

“That’s Pete Sharma with her.”

Joss looked at the approaching man again, his eyes widening over a beaming mouth.

“So?” she said. “Why oh shit?”

Matt scowled and grabbed the door handle. “So, he’s not supposed to know I’m here.” He opened the door and stepped out, peering down the street.

Joss got out on her side in time to hear Peter Sharma’s jubilant greeting.

“Matty Matty Matt-Matt!”

To Joss’s surprise, Matt sent a terse glance his way, said “Hey, Pete,” and stepped instead to Jo Shelsher. “Thanks so much for taking the time to help us today, Mrs. Shelsher.”

She shook Matt’s hand, though visibly distracted by the obvious Peter snub. “Oh, it’s no problem at all, Matthew.” She set a hand on Matt’s shoulder, and motioned sideways. “What a small world, eh? Last night I start telling my neighbor here, Peter, about the unexpected call−”

“Yeah, man,” Pete said. “What the heck’s going on?”

Matt continued facing Mrs. Shelsher. “We’re going to have to catch up later, Pete. I need you to shake my hand as if we’re meeting for the first time, and for
nobody
to look around. There’s a minivan with dangerous people parked at the end of the block. When we drive away, Pete, and you go back to your apartment, those guys’ll follow us, and not give you another thought.”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Shelsher said, and began turning to peer down the street.

“No, ma’am!” Matt insisted, and she snapped her head back to him. “Do
not
look around.” Matt turned toward Pete, nodded politely, and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. Joss, Mrs. Shelsher, let’s go ahead and load up, excited to be on our way.”

Pete waved and moseyed back toward the complex as Matt walked around to the driver’s side.

“Can’t say I’m too thrilled with how we’re starting off here,” Mrs. Shelsher said through a rigid smile as Joss helped her into the van.

Joss climbed in and slid the door shut behind her. “It’s going to be fine, Mrs. Shelsher. It’s all a mere abundance of caution.”

Matt steered the van around the cul-de-sac. “Exactly.” As they approached the parked minivan—custard yellow with a peeling black bar down the side—Matt said, “Now everyone keep their eyes forward. Nothing to see here …”

He turned onto the next street, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror. Joss and their fuming guest remained silent in the second row. Tension thickened the van’s air. Matt crept to the main street’s red light, chanting quietly to the mirror, “Come on … Come on, guys … Don’t lose him …”

Mrs. Shelsher, dismayed: “Are you
waiting
for them?”

“Yes, I am,” Matt said slowly. “It’d be verrrry bad if they shift their atten—ah, there they are! Finally.” He stepped on the gas, slipping into the main street’s morning traffic. “Now, let’s get our seatbelts secured and hang on to something.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Mrs. Shelsher said as she grappled about for her belt.

Joss helped her strap in. “We’re so sorry. This definitely wasn’t on the agenda.”

“Okay, hanging on now,” Matt warned, and then swerved left, cutting off a taxi, and continuing through a tiny gap across two more congested lanes.

A jarring brake, zooming forward, veering around a box truck, skidding tires, and the van spilled out of traffic onto an empty side street. Windowless brick buildings flanked the thin street as Matt gunned it down the block, eyes flashing between the rearview and road. And then, halfway to the next street, he let off the gas and eased back into his seat.

“They just passed,” he said, “still in the far lane. Didn’t see us turn. We’re in the clear.”

He turned left, heading against their false escape route. After a few more turns, he pulled the van off the street into a vacant lot, and parked.

Matt turned around with an apologetic smile. “Can we start over, Mrs. Shelsher? Pretend none of that just happened?”

She drew in a deep breath, raspberrying it out. “There’s no forgetting
that
lunacy, that’s for dang sure, pal. Who were those people? What would they have done if they caught us?”

Matt waved it away, a silly concern. “Nothing at all, really. They’re just guys someone hired to follow me.” She wasn’t convinced. “Because they think I’ll lead them to some long-lost treasure. If we find a good spot today, that’s where I’ll have them follow me next time. My real aim just then was to keep their attention off Pete. Honestly, nothing to worry about.”

“Sweetie, that is the exact opposite of what you said not three minutes ago. ‘There’s a minivan with dangerous people,’ you said. But fine, I’ll let that go. You believe we’re safe now, I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt … God knows why.”

Joss thought it a good moment to chime in, reinforcing Matt’s confidence in their safety. “Mrs. Shelsher, you’re absolutely-”

“Call me Grandma Bubsy, hon. Only telemarketers call me Mrs. Shelsher.”

Joss flicked her eyes Matt’s way. “Oh, okay, sure. I was just going to echo Matt’s sentiment about our safety. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I had any doubts. I’m a big chicken.”

Matt thanked Joss with a quick look, and turned back to Bubsy
.
“I do appreciate the understanding, Bubsy. We’ve heard all about your-”

“
Grandma
Bubsy, sweetie. I didn’t spend twenty years in grandma school for nothing. Or Meemaw, if you prefer.”

“Grandma Bubsy, it is. We’ve heard all about your projects out here. Very impressive stuff, to say the least.”

“Well, thank you.” Surprisingly, she blushed. “I’ve, of course, heard of you, Matthew. My husband and I read your books. We loved the one about the dome people, but you lost us on the Cuba Viking one. So violent.”

Matt nodded, avoiding Joss’s look. “Yes … thank you. Good feedback.”

“Anyhow,” Grandma Bubsy went on, “if you put out any more, just try to keep them fun and interesting. Now then, I understand you want to see some of the lesser-known sites outside the city?”

“That’s right. At least an hour out of Alexandria, deserted, and not visible from the highway.”

“Well, there’s plenty of sites with those conditions, but we’d have to head past Cairo for anything truly interesting. Amarna would be the most obvious spot, though we’d be looking at seven-plus hours of driving. And I don’t do helicopters, if you’re thinking of suggesting it.”

“Definitely not Amarna. And it doesn’t have to be interesting at all, actually. Ideally, it’d be a structure we could enter, but even that part is optional.”

Grandma Bubsy scrunched her face, searching her memory. “If I had my maps or laptop, I could bring up a good list, but … hm. I assumed you’d want to see one of my pyramids. That’s what I get for assuming. And now, I’ll assume once more you don’t want to drop by my rental so I can pick up some stuff.” Matt’s expression told her this would be less than desirable. “Well, there are ruins I know off the top of my head, but they might be a little too interesting for your needs, whatever those might be. About three hours east: Sân el-Hagar. Plus, it’s a real pretty drive along the Mediterranean, if you appreciate pretty things.”

“Sân …” Matt echoed, the name ringing a bell. His eyes widened. “Wait, is that Tanis?”

Grandma smiled. “Look at you, Matthew. You really
do
know a thing or three, don’t you?”

Matt’s thoughts scattered then converged, overlapping and shaping an idea within a previously cloudy placeholder. Tanis was inscribed on one of the Tarias. It’d be a perfect diversion for Ostrovsky, validated by his existing research. But Matt would be surprised if archaeologists had fully abandoned all excavations at Egypt’s former capital city.

“Wouldn’t the site be fairly active?” he asked. “At least with tourists?”

“There’re tour groups that come to one little section, but the ruin I’m talking about is a building foundation with no building, out beyond the hills on the east end of the city, and accessed via unpaved road. The French team’s digs are a couple miles to the north. No one goes to this spot, hon.”

Matt grinned. “Then I want to go to this spot, Grandma Bubsy.”

He put the van in gear, driving off toward the International Coastal Road.

* * *

Ancient rubble and modern-day garbage littered the wide tunnel’s sandy floor. Joss stepped over a pile of charred wood and crushed, soot-coated beer cans. Behind her, Grandma Bubsy grumbled sporadically. Outside, the plucky archaeologist had said, “There’s nothing to see in there but broken glass, graffiti, and heaven knows what else,” but Matt insisted on walking the full length. He’d offered to go alone, but Joss suspected their guide felt obligated to stay with him, given that she’d brought them here.

It was unexpectedly cool and humid inside, the sand floor compacted and moist, and the sunny entrance—at least fifty yards behind them—seemed to offer zero illumination this far in.

Joss wondered about the old firewood. Wouldn’t the whole tunnel quickly fill with smoke? And then she wondered if they’d stumble upon the remains of some inept hobo.

“Careful,” Matt said, pointing his flashlight at glass shards poking up through a patch of loose sand. He continued skimming the opposite wall with his fingertips.

Judging by the fetid air, Joss was more concerned about stepping in a pool of human urine and/or excrement. The chilly, graffiti-lined passageway appeared to have hosted decades of visitors. Hopefully, this wasn’t the case today.

Grandma called from behind Joss, “In case you folks were wondering, that smell is none other than the brown and yellow. Sticking to your guns on that ‘have to go all the way through’ thing, Matthew?
Eesh
, what was that? Like wood, but squishy. No, don’t! Don’t turn your light on it. If I wanted a light on it, I’d have put my own on it. Just keep moving, for the love of Pip.”

“I’m so sorry, Grandma Bubsy,” Matt said as they continued on. “I didn’t know it’d be a biohazard in here. I should’ve told you up front that I’d need to inspect any tunnels.”

“No, no. No sorries,” she replied. “Don’t you mind my nattering nonsense. I’m fine. All I’m telling you, hon, is there’s nothing to see in here that we didn’t see in the first twenty—Oh, sweet cheese and crackers!” Her flashlight whipped about, and she gasped between statements. “That used to be a cat. That right there was once a cat, and too
dod gamn
recently. Darling, we need to about face and march right out of here!”