Misplaced (96 page)

Shortl
y
after
w
ards
,
the
y
hear
d
gra
v
e
l
spra
y
a
s
th
e
truck
sped a
w
ay.

“Wh
y
di
d
yo
u
le
t
hi
m
lea
ve
lik
e
that?
”
V
ictori
a
asked,
putting an
arm
around
her
shoulder.
“
Among
the
three
of
us,
w
e could ha
v
e made him understand.”

“He
’
ll be back,” Celeste reassured her.

Khara
shook
her
head
and
a
sighed,
“It’s
for
the
best.”
But
her
gallant
words
hid
nothing.
“
Y
ou
w
ere
right,”
she
admitted.
“Relationships do make e
v
erything more difficult.”

Chapte
r
Thirty-seven
Vic
t
oria

Victori
a
w
en
t
int
o
th
e
dinin
g
roo
m
t
o
b
e
alone
.
Her
assumptio
n
tha
t
Dr
.
Shenoud
a
kne
w
mor
e
abou
t
th
e
origins
o
f
th
e
bracelet
s
tha
n
h
e
ha
d
re
v
eale
d
coul
d
b
e
counte
d
on.
Th
e
word
s
“relentless
”
an
d
“in
v
estigation
”
torture
d
he
r
with vision
s
o
f
disaster
.
Ho
w
a
m
I
goin
g
t
o
ge
t
u
s
t
o
Egyp
t
now
?

Israel seemed the logical choice, though
V
ictoria balked at
th
e
though
t
o
f
f
lashin
g
Khara’
s
fak
e
passpor
t
unde
r
th
e
nos
e
o
f
th
e
Magav
,
Israel’
s
legendar
y
borde
r
police
.
The
y
would
probably
meet
with
less
scrutiny
in
Jordan,
maybe
e
v
en
Sudan.
Thi
s
w
a
s
no
t
he
r
forte
;
sh
e
kne
w
nex
t
t
o
nothin
g
abou
t
the
policies
of
Arab
countries.
Would
they
gi
v
e
a
second
thought to
a
couple
of
female
tourists
on
their
w
ay
to
see
the
pyramids? What if ICE
w
as already on their trail?

A
croup
y
coug
h
interrupte
d
th
e
barrag
e
o
f
thought
s
as
Celeste
joined
her
at
the
table.
Khara
sat
in
front
of
a
window
with
a
view
of
the
dri
v
e
w
ay,
tearless
and
silent,
her
head
bent
to
w
ard the glass like a wilted flo
w
er.

Th
e
cloud
s
de
p
ar
t
e
d
a
s
u
n
e
x
pec
t
edl
y
a
s
t
he
y
’
d
come
,
leavin
g
a
damp
chill
behind.
Gloom
permeated
the
dining
room,
thick
and
heavy.
To
escape
it,
V
ictoria
rummaged
through
the
fridge
and
put
together
a
plate
of
bread,
cheese,
and
salami.
She
set
it
down
in
front
of
Celeste.
“
Y
ou’
v
e
got
to
eat
something
before
you take your medicine,” she reminded her.

Celest
e
w
atche
d
th
e
door
.
“Later,
”
w
a
s
he
r
onl
y
commen
t
as
she tiredly pushed the plate a
w
ay.

A
s
V
ictori
a
tidie
d
th
e
kitchen
,
vision
s
o
f
borde
r
crossings
flashed
through
her
mind’s
e
y
e,
all
ending
badly.
Throughout
the e
v
ening, Khara remained a muted
v
ersion of herself.

A
t
three
o’clock
in
the
morning,
V
ictoria
woke
alone.
Rising
quickly
,
sh
e
thre
w
th
e
to
p
quil
t
aroun
d
he
r
shoulders
.
She
foun
d
Khar
a
sittin
g
o
n
th
e
porc
h
step
s
wit
h
Heathe
r
o
f
Scotland
at her feet,
w
atching the sky. “It’s time I
w
ent home.”

“I’
m
workin
g
o
n
it
.
I
t
’
s
goin
g
t
o
b
e
mor
e
difficul
t
now,
especially if US Customs is looking for us.”

“P
erhaps,”
she
said
rather
abstractedly,
and
V
ictoria
knew
she had been pondering this, “there is another
w
ay.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight,” she replied, a single word that filled
the air with
mystery, “the moon
w
anes. If Oli
v
e
r
’s shaman is truly a bridge
from the spirit world to this one, he may be able to help us.”

It
w
as not the ans
w
er
V
ictoria had hoped for.

“
I
kno
w
nothin
g
o
f
Apach
e
rituals
.
Y
o
u
wil
l
come
,
won’t
you?”

“I
wouldn’
t
mis
s
i
t
fo
r
th
e
world.
”
V
ictori
a
didn’
t
belie
v
e
anyon
e
coul
d
help
,
bu
t
a
distractio
n
woul
d
b
e
w
elcome
.
In
the
meantime,
she
would
rack
her
brain
for
a
new
plan
to
get
them
to
Egypt.
She
returned
to
bed,
tormented
with
worry.
It
took e
v
erything she had to
w
ait there until Khara left the cabin
fo
r
he
r
sunris
e
pra
y
ers
.
A
t
th
e
mai
n
house
,
V
ictori
a
hurried
pas
t
Celest
e
wit
h
a
quic
k
“Morning
”
befor
e
flippin
g
o
n
the
television.

A
w
axy-lookin
g
anchorma
n
o
n
th
e
BB
C
reporte
d
about
th
e
smugglin
g
o
f
Egyptia
n
artifacts
,
an
d
th
e
scree
n
cu
t
to
li
v
e
footage
.
A
reporte
r
stoo
d
outsid
e
V
ictoria’
s
offic
e
asking
Maggie
if
it
w
as
a
front
for
smuggling
artifacts
into
the
United
States.