Mariah Stewart - Last Breath

Daria went through the first envelope, then the second. With each stack of photographs she set aside, she became more confused. When she’d gone through all the envelopes and had passed along each photo, she turned to Connor and said, “No large bronze statue of Ereshkigal, no golden griffins. No gold necklace…there must be another envelope of photos somewhere.”

“You’re sure?” Polly asked. “Maybe you should take another look.”

“Daria’s right,” Connor said. “The photos of the missing artifacts are missing as well, and I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I don’t think you’re going to find another envelope that just happens to have all those pictures in it.”

“What do you think happened to them?” Daria asked.

“I think whoever is behind the thefts has the photos,” he told her.

“So there’s no proof that the items even existed.” Polly thought aloud.

“Alistair wrote in his journals about every item he found, and he even sketched many of them himself. We know they existed. We know he brought them back,” Daria said.

“I think it’s more likely that the person who took the photos passed them on to whoever had been sent out after them,” Connor said, “so that the killers would know what they were looking for.”

“That would explain how they knew to take only the Shandihar pieces.” Polly said thoughtfully. “Doesn’t it make you wonder, though, why someone would kill to recover these specific pieces, but completely overlook other very valuable artifacts? The Blume’s house was reported to have had a fortune in artwork. Why didn’t they touch anything else? A common thief wouldn’t have left it all there.”

“These aren’t common thieves,” Daria told her. “Whoever is doing this believes he’s on a holy mission to recover the artifacts that were stolen from the museum.”

“Frankly, I have a hard time with that ‘holy quest’ thing, Daria. If that’s true-if the point is to return the artifacts-where are they? Nothing’s been brought back.” Connor shook his head. “Forgive my skepticism, but I think there’s more to it than that. I’m a lot more comfortable with the common thief thing.”

“Well, unfortunately, holy crusader or common criminal, I don’t think they’re finished. There are still several artifacts out there,” Polly reminded them. “I just hope we can track them down before someone else does…”

Daria spent the rest of the day in an almost religious state of bliss in the museum basement, matching photos to artifacts and envisioning where and how this piece or that might be displayed for the reopening. The photos themselves were nothing short of miraculous. To be able to see, one hundred years later, exactly what her great-grandfather had seen just as he’d first seen it was an experience Daria would never forget. Once she got past the fact that the photos of the missing artifacts were missing as well, the importance of matching the original photographs to the artifacts had Daria’s heart and head pounding for hours. In her mind’s eye, she saw the sepia photos enlarged greatly and serving as the backdrop for the display of the corresponding pieces. Had any such exhibit ever been possible in the past? She was unsure. She knew only that the Shandihar exhibit at Howe University would be a magnet for the public as well as for scholars for years to come.

And to think she’d scoffed when Louise mentioned the possibility of a book. Daria had no doubt that the university would benefit financially from the venture. With visions of a handsome coffee-table book dancing in her head, Daria lost all track of time.

“So how’d it go today?”

Daria was startled by the voice coming from the doorway.

“Oh, Connor. Sorry. I was tuned out for a minute.”

“More than a minute, I’d guess. Any idea what time it is?” He walked into the room, and immediately the room seemed smaller.

“None.” She stood and found her legs stiff. “But my knees are telling me that I’ve been here for more than an hour or two.”

“Try six hours.”

“Really? That would make it-”

“Six-thirty.” Connor nodded. “Are you hungry yet?”

“I guess I am.” She stood and stretched. “I just got wrapped up in all this.” She waved her hand around the room. “The photographs are amazing. Just to see so many of the artifacts exactly where they were first found-I felt as if I were there with him. It’s almost overwhelming.”

“I thought you were going to work from the house today?”

“I was, but with the photos in my hands, I had to come look at the real deal. I thought having people upstairs would disturb me, but it didn’t. I hardly knew anyone else was in the building, except for when the plumbers and the electricians were poking around.”

“Can you stop for some dinner?” Connor leaned on one of the taller crates.

“I’m going to have to. The guard told me I had to be out by seven o’clock, so it’s a good thing you came for me. I might have gotten locked in.” She began to pack the photographs back into their envelopes. “How did you get in, by the way? Were you able to get a badge?”

“Yes,” he told her. “It says FBI on it.”

“Ah, yes. Opens doors everywhere, I would guess.” She rolled her shoulders to work out the kinks.

Connor picked up the pack of envelopes from the desk. “Is there anything else you need to do here?”

“I just need to lock up.” She looked around the room. All the crates had been repacked and secured. She dug in the pocket of her skirt for the key.

“Polly got to the airport on time?” Daria asked as she locked the door.

“I assume so,” Connor said as he followed Daria up the stairs. They waved to the guard when they reached the main floor. “Glad to see there’s some real security here.”

“They were hired by the bank,” Daria told him. “There is another one around here somewhere, and I think I saw the university’s security guard outside as well.”

“Any idea when they’re going to move the collection?”

“Louise said they were going to try for the end of the week.”

They walked outside into the remnants of a summer shower that was spending its last few drops of rain. The sky was clearing as they walked back to McGowan House.

“I took the liberty of ordering a pizza and some salads to be delivered,” Connor said when they reached the back steps. “I probably should have asked first.”

“No, no, pizza’s fine. I’ve hardly eaten anything else since I got to Howe. I love it.” She unlocked the door and caught Sweet Thing by the collar as she was about to bolt.

“It’s not ideal, but they deliver. And I figured the pizza would get here right around the time we did, since there was such a long wait for delivery tonight. Something about one of their drivers not showing up.”

“That should work out just right, then. And I’ll have time to take care of Sweet Thing.” The dog jumped up to greet Daria, and she stroked the dog’s head affectionately.

“She’s been fed, watered, walked.”

“Oh. Thank you. Well, then, maybe I’ll have time to clean up a little. I’ve been in that hot basement all afternoon, and I’m covered in dust.”

“Go ahead. Sweet Thing and I will wait for the pizza guy out on the front porch.”

“I’ll make it quick.” Daria disappeared into the house and ran up the steps.

She was dying for a quick shower. She was hot and sweaty and dusty. She closed the bedroom door behind her and stripped off her clothes as she headed for the bathroom. She turned on the shower and let it run for a minute or two, then stepped in. The water was cooler than she liked, but it was welcome after hours in the stale, stuffy basement. She scrubbed her body quickly, washed and rinsed her hair in record time, and emerged from the shower feeling like a completely new woman.