Effigy (3 page)

He rose to his feet and as he paced to the window overlooking the manicured campus lawns, Lori sensed a resolute shift in his composure.

“What concerns me, Miss Dewson, is the future story of the effigy. What will become of it now that the research is all but finished? We can’t very well leave it in a box hidden away in some moldy old closet. That effigy is priceless. It was meant to be admired by the public.”

Snead turned from the window. Though not a very tall man, his abrupt posture leant him a looming presence. Lori held her breath.

“I’d like to recommend a donation to the museum.”

Lori shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen this conversation coming. She just hadn’t expected the proposal so soon.

“Your family will be recognized for the donation of course,” he continued, “but more importantly, the effigy will be secure where the public can enjoy it. What more honorable fate can come to such a priceless piece of history?”

Lori hesitated. She had to agree that displaying the effigy in a museum would be better than locking it away in storage, but only after one condition was met.

“What about the Native American
Graves
Protection and Repatriation Act? Shouldn’t we first ensure there are no existing heirs before we retire the effigy to the museum?”

Snead frowned. His expanding forehead deepened into heavy furrows as he paced back to his chair. “And who would those heirs be? There are no conclusive lineal descendants of the Anasazi.”

“Then we look at people culturally affiliated with the effigy,” Lori said.

“In that case you could be looking for some bygone tribe from
Mexico
,” he argued. He was lapsing into that mousy voice of his—the nervous tick that surfaced whenever he got excited. “Even if such people exist, NAGPRA doesn’t extend outside the
United States
.”

“There’s still a chance there are descendants out there who should have the right to inherit the effigy,” Lori insisted. “That’s why we need to keep studying it.”

Snead leaned back in his chair, the tip of his index finger stroking his chin. He stared at her as though calculating a strategic move against an adversary, and it made Lori uncomfortable.

“Study the effigy if you must,” he finally said with a flick of his fingers. “That is, if you can get your hands on a lab key. There won’t be any more loans until summer classes begin, but I’m afraid you’ll be out on your field study by then.”

Lori sank back in her chair. “But I was hoping—”

“Let me guess. Because you found the effigy and technically maintain ownership you were hoping that you’d have free access to it?”

Lori shrugged. That was exactly what she was hoping for, although her access to the effigy thus far had been extremely limited, despite finder-keeper details.

“I’m afraid, Miss Dewson, that when you entrusted the artifact to the university, you granted us a great responsibility in ensuring its security. Therefore, no student can simply have free access to it, and that includes you. If you need to study an artifact, you must comply with the university’s guidelines, and that includes the rental of lab keys.”

Lori crossed her arms defiantly. “If I have to wait for the new semester, then I’ll wait.”

“But what good is a lab key when the effigy’s contained in the museum’s storage?”

Her temper flared. “So you’ve already donated the effigy for me,” she snapped.

Snead tried to diffuse the strained moment with an edgy grin. “No, of course not. But surely you didn’t expect me to store a highly valuable artifact in common storage at the lab. The museum is the most secure location to hold such items.”

Lori bit back her frustration. She’d waited months for her chance to contribute to the effigy’s research but it seemed she’d have to wait even longer due to a stubborn technicality.

“Is there no other way I can look at it before the field study? I only need a few hours. A day tops.”

Snead leaned forward, his elbows perched upon the gleaming desktop. There was a thin smile partially concealed behind his folded hands.

“I tell you what,” he said. “I’ll make you a deal. You donate that effigy to the museum, and I’ll grant you all the access you need.”

Library

The benefit of summertime study in the campus library was the lulling void that encouraged research. The distractions of students coming and going were gone. The computer stations were empty. The book aisles silent. Of all the buildings on campus, thankfully the library didn’t shut down for the summer.

Lori might have appreciated the silence a little more had she not been preoccupied with the idea of donating the effigy. As she approached the idle circulation desk with a stack of books cradled in her arms she knew she was far from reaching a decision. She hadn’t actually expected to give the artifact to anyone until all possible research had been satisfied. Snead considered it done, but then again, he was a short-sighted and impatient man.

By the time she reached the checkout counter she was so consumed by her dilemma that she didn’t notice anyone behind her until a hand lighted on her shoulder.

“How about a private study session? My apartment. Tonight.”

Lori felt the hot breath tingling her ear. A sporty aftershave overwhelmingly hung in the air. She knew that voice, she knew that smell, and she’d played this game before.

“I’m flattered,” she said in a teasing tone of her own. “But I’m afraid my boyfriend’s the jealous type.”

She turned around and sure enough, there stood Derek Riesling, smiling with that slanted, cocky grin of his.

“Is that your latest pickup line?” she asked.

Derek shrugged. “It seems to fit the situation.”

That was Derek’s way. Up front. To the point. No beating around the bush. Lori assumed that was how journalists worked, for he seemed to have already mastered the profession.

“If that doesn’t float your boat, then why don’t we go out and celebrate our first date?”

Lori laughed and turned back to the counter. With Derek it was always their “first date.” Sure, they’d had several outings together in the six years they’d known each other, but that was all they really amounted to—outings.

“I’ll have to take a rain check,” she said, hefting her books onto the counter. “I managed to get some lab time this afternoon. This might be my last opportunity until fall classes start and I have a lot of work to do.”

“There’s always work to do. That’s been your excuse since ANTHRO 1010.”

Lori laughed again. It seemed like ages since the two of them sat together in those introductory anthropology classes. At the time Derek was working on a Bachelor’s degree in archaeology but his aspirations didn’t include becoming an archaeologist. That line of work was too slow-paced for him. Instead, he had plans of getting a second degree in journalism, determined to become a traveling freelancer for archaeological publications.

After those first four years of their collegiate careers, Derek moved on to his journalism courses while Lori continued her post-graduate work. They became two students from opposite ends of campus, but that didn’t stop him from bumping into her from time to time, mostly to ask how her studies were going and if the department had acquired any new artifacts. He was always looking for his next contribution to the school’s paper and if possible, a date.

Derek leaned in against the counter, angling his solid chest toward her. “Give yourself a break,” he said. “Classes just got out for crying out loud.”

Lori sighed. As inviting as a relaxing summer vacation sounded, she knew she couldn’t afford to lose time with her ceramic studies.

“I can’t,” she said. “I still have my dissertation to work on before the field study starts.”

“Don’t tell me you’re headed out with Quickie Peet again.”

The student aid behind the circulation desk bubbled to life as she slapped the last book shut. “You’re going in the field with Professor Peet?” she asked. “He’s so
hot
!”

Lori sighed inwardly. Was she the only person there who’d outgrown spontaneous bouts of sophomoric hormones? Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time she’d suffered through infatuated chitchat focused on Dr. Peet. His good looks were known across campus. For a man approaching forty, he still had a youthful attractiveness—and he was single.

“Are you going back to dig up that skeleton?” the girl asked. “You know. The one buried with that Mexican idol.”

Lori collected her books. “Not this year.”

In a perfect world, the summer’s field study would be back on the ranch, finishing the excavation of the Anasazi grave. Then again, in a perfect world, the grave would’ve been completely excavated last summer.

Unfortunately, the world was far from perfect. By the time Dr. Peet received last year’s permit, they barely had time to retrieve the effigy before fall classes began. So, having securely backfilled the dig site, they’d made plans to complete the excavation this summer.

At least, that
was
the plan.

As it turned out, archaeologists weren’t the only people interested in the effigy. As soon as their discovery went public, complications arose. First, two small New Mexican tribes, whose ties to the Anasazi were questionable at best, stepped forward to claim ownership of the effigy, tying the research down in NAGPRA legislation.

Then came the protesters.

Not everyone was excited about the excavation of the effigy. To Lori’s surprise, an unfavorable public opinion arose, labeling her extraordinary find as grave-robbing archaeology. It was hard not to take the accusations personally. It wasn’t as though she planned to keep the effigy for herself. Her intentions were just the opposite. The effigy was a find like no other, perhaps representing a missing or misunderstood chapter in the history of southwestern peoples. How much more enriched would a culture be when a long-forgotten secret was returned to them?

Obviously there were those who didn’t see it that way. The publicity was placing the university, and archaeology in general, into a negative light, making Snead inconsolably nervous. He canceled the department’s plans to finish excavating the grave and that meant postponing Dr. Peet’s proposed field study on the ranch. With that brash decision Snead managed to prolong everyone’s desire, protestors and researchers alike, to reunite the effigy with its rightful descendants.

“Dr. Peet decided to take the field study back to
Chaco
Canyon
this year,” Lori explained.

The librarian clicked her tongue and smiled encouragingly. “Well, I still think you’re lucky to be on Peet’s team,” she said. “I’d follow that fine ass anywhere.”

Lori forced a smile and carried her books to an empty table at the far end of the room. Although she may have escaped the enamored librarian, she had yet to elude Derek, who was mumbling something about the girl ignoring his own posterior.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, snapping back to Lori. “Use your celebrity, girl.”

Lori snorted as she placed her books on the table and slung her bag to the floor. “What celebrity?”

“Why didn’t you tell her that
you
found ‘that Mexican idol?’”

She plopped herself into a chair, giving Derek a knowing glance. With him, there were often alternate motives. “Don’t tell me you’re on your first assignment to get the latest info on the effigy. Or are you out of dates on a Wednesday night?”