The Mummy (10 page)

“What? Oh, my lord, where did those come from?” Her mother turned on the overhead light so she could see better.

Lana didn't want her mother, who was barefoot, to walk across her room. But she had to get rid of the scorpion on her bed. She took a deep breath, gripped the coverlet tighter, and flipped the scorpion onto the floor. “Did you see where it went? Keep an eye on it.”

“Close to the others. I'll be right back. I'm getting the broom.”

Lana stared at the three scorpions, now fighting each other. When her mother returned, Lana put on her slippers and carefully got out of bed, looking for more scorpions with every step.

“I'll hold this dustpan, Lana. You sweep them into it.” Her mother had taken time to slip into her shoes and now circled the scorpions. One was skittering off toward the closet.

“Don't let it get in there.” Lana brushed one scorpion into the dustpan her mother held. “What are you going to do with it?”

“There's only one place that's sure.” Her mother hurried out of the room, then Lana heard a flush. Down the toilet.

The other two, still dancing around each other, tails arched high, went into the pan together and were swiftly flushed down the toilet.

Lana still didn't trust that there were only three scorpions. She and her mother searched the room thoroughly before they decided they'd found them all. That's when Lana found the note. She wadded it into her hand as Mrs. Richardson collapsed on Lana's bed.

“What — where in the world did those come from? I've never seen a scorpion in this house before. And surely not three at once and in the fall.”

Glancing at the window, Lana saw that the screen was open wider than before. Seti chose that moment to step back inside.

“Where were you when I needed you?” Lana scolded, but in a way she was glad Seti hadn't been there. He probably would have been stung. He bounced onto her bed. Lana gathered him into her arms and hugged him tight.

“He was outside?”

“I think someone pushed the scorpions through the window, Mom. Sorry, I opened it for Seti. He wanted out badly.”

Lana's mother shook her head. “But why would someone do anything like that?”

Lana sighed. She was going to have to tell her mother a little of what was going on. She chose that moment to read the note. “I found this note on the floor.” She smoothed the crinkled paper and read.

A
DMIT
Y
OU
A
RE THE
P
RINCESS
.

I W
OULDN
'
T
W
ANT TO
M
AKE A
M
ISTAKE
.

N
EFRA

The signature was false, of course, and the message was printed in block letters that anyone could have written.

“Does that make any sense to you, Lana?” Her mother took the note and stared at it.

“Someone has been — has been teasing me, Mom. Pulling tricks on me. Trying to frighten me, I guess.”

“But why?” Her mother was stuck on that word. If Lana knew why, she might also know who.

“I have no idea. The first incident was when the lights went off at the museum and someone whispered to me, trying to frighten me.”

Lana told her mother most of what had been happening. She didn't mention that she was followed and someone in a mummy suit had frightened her in the park. She had such a fear of being grounded, her mother refusing to let her go anyplace, losing her freedom. Her mother would want to drive her everywhere, pick her up, know where she was at every minute.

“Maybe it has something to do with stealing the necklace. Whoever — ” Her mother ran her hand over Seti's fur. Seti looked at her and meowed.

“I heard the whispering voice the very night the exhibit opened. Before the necklace was stolen.”

“What does this mean, admit you are the princess?”

“People have been teasing me about looking like the princess Urbena. You know, she was supposed to marry Nefra. Someone has taken the teasing a step further.”

Her mother kept staring at the note. She had no more thoughts on the matter than Lana did, if as many.

Suddenly Lana felt totally exhausted. “Mom, I've got to get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow. I don't want you to worry.”

“I'm
going
to worry. You can't stop me.” Her mother stood up, walked over, and closed Lana's window, locking it firmly. “Someone climbed this tree.” She stared out into the darkness.

“It's an easy tree to climb, and they didn't have to go high.” Lana shook the covers of her bed and remade it. She slipped under the covers, her eyes heavy, the adrenaline rush long gone, leaving her more exhausted than ever.

“Are you going to be all right?” Mrs. Richardson snapped off the overhead light and stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Yes, Mom. Thanks.” Lana reached for the lamp switch. She was just too tired to lie awake afraid.

Lana took the note with her to the museum the next day, stuck it in her pocket to look at again, as if it would finally make sense.

She had the early shift, and was surprised to find Rod Newland waiting for her at the door. “I have permission to sketch some of the artifacts, today, Lana. I did that in Cairo. I have a whole notebook full of sketches.” He was going to show them to her, but she stopped him. Somehow she wasn't in the mood.

“Where's Antef? He was supposed to open up. I don't have a key.”

“I haven't seen him.” Rod closed the notebook, obviously disappointed that Lana didn't seem excited about his work.

She wasn't totally out of touch. “I'll look at them later, Rob. Let's try again to have lunch together. We have to open now. People will be in line here in no time.” She glanced down the hall. “I'll go get another key.”

She hurried to the museum office, but happened across one of the custodians on the way downstairs. “Mr. Lowman, can you open the exhibit for me? Antef Raam was supposed to be here, but I don't see him and the door is locked.”

“Sure, Lana.” The elderly man followed Lana back up the escalator, which had yet to be turned on. “There'll be a huge crowd today.”

“I know. That's why we have to get ready. Thank goodness I came early.” Lana was at least forty-five minutes early, so early no other volunteers had arrived, nor had all of the employees. She had planned to look at the entire exhibit carefully, to make sure that everything was in place.

She was becoming paranoid about anything having to do with the show. Maybe what was happening was some elaborate scheme to steal some other artifacts. Annoying her — well, frightening her — was just an extra part of their game. Someone was entertaining himself at her expense but at the same time planning to steal the relics.

Did this have something to do with her deliberately trying to look like an ancient Egyptian? She had thought it would be fun. She was so taken with the exhibit coming, with the whole life of these ancient peoples. Had she gone way too fat in identifying with them? Someone had noticed her immediately. Be truthful, Lana, she said to herself,
everyone
noticed you immediately. But one person thought that making her a part of his game was irresistible.

Was it Rod? She remembered Blair's question, her suspicion. Rod and Darrah together? Did they need money that badly? Rod acted so innocent, but maybe he had the ability to do that. Or he was another person around Darrah. She knew girls with that kind of power. They could talk a guy into doing anything.

Mr. Lowman got the door opened and propped back. Lana darted inside, flipping on the lights, looking from case to case, display to display, fully expecting something to be out of place, something to be missing. The first room was exactly as it had been from the night the exhibit had opened.

“You okay?” Rod had noticed her nervousness.

“Sure. I guess I was spooked because Antef wasn't here and we had to open. Put your stool down anyplace, and we'll stumble over you all morning.” She teased Rod, but gave him a big smile to make up for it. Maybe she should tell him some of what had been happening over lunch, and watch his reaction. She wouldn't mind unloading on someone else. Her mother didn't count, since she was too distanced from the museum and the people working here. Would Josh be sympathetic? He'd care, but he might just laugh at her fear.

At first glance, the second room of the exhibit looked all right, too. The case that had replaced the one holding the wedding necklace looked awfully bare. Dr. Walters had deliberately left the top shelf vacant to receive the necklace once they found it. He wanted the public aware of what had happened, and to have everyone in Denver looking for the jeweled collar.

Nefra lay just as he'd been for two weeks. Lana was almost getting used to the warmth she stepped into as she walked to the coffin. The aura was exactly like a force field that closed around her, making her feel euphoric. But she couldn't stay here long today. She had work to do.

Before she fell under the mummy's spell, she heard a scratching sound and a muffled thud.

She looked at Nefra's beautiful green basalt sarcophagus, standing beside his coffin. No, not from there. Urbena's coffin lay prone nearby. It was supposed to be open.

The case was closed, the lid resting tightly on the ornately-painted coffin. The scratching noise was coming from Urbena's coffin. Someone — or something — was closed up inside!

Chapter 14

For a few seconds Lana froze in place. Her hand gripped the side of Nefra's coffin so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Be sensible,” she whispered. “The lid has simply been moved.”

“Rod! Rod! Come in here.” Lana ran toward the other room while she yelled.

Marge appeared before Rod could answer. “Lana, what's wrong?”

“Rod, get Rod.” Lana didn't know why she thought she needed Rod. She and Marge could probably lift the lid. But because she'd thought of him first, she wanted him, too.

He hurried into the room. “What's the matter, Lana?”

“The coffin — Urbena's coffin — someone's inside.” Words sputtered from Lana's lips. She couldn't put a complete sentence together.

“Someone is in that coffin?” Marge asked, staring.

They all heard the scratching and thumping and for seconds looked at each other with unasked questions.

“Hurry.” Rod took hold at the foot of the coffin lid.

Lana and Marge took the sides near the top. The three of them lifted the heavy lid, slid it off, and set it on the floor.

Lana stared inside. Slowly Antef sat up, looking dazed. Then he started to cough as if his lungs were coated with thousand-year-old dust.

“I'll get some water,” Marge said, hurrying away.

“How long have you been in there?” Lana asked.

“I came over early to — to — ” Antef bent over with a coughing spell. “Early — I — early — someone — too early.” Gratefully, he took the paper cup of water Marge handed him and sipped.

Lana was having trouble being patient. “Someone put you in there?” Silly. He didn't get in the coffin himself.

“Someone hit me. That's the last I remember until I woke up in here.”

“You must have been terrified.” Rod frowned. “Why would someone do this?”

Lana stared at Rod. He came to the museum early. How early? As early as Antef? But why would he do this to Antef? Why would anyone, for that matter?

Antef looked pale and frightened. “Is anything missing? Maybe something was stolen. Maybe I let in a thief.”

“I've already looked at everything in the other room. I had almost finished looking over this one. I don't think anything is gone but the necklace.” Lana moved to look at the other cases. She came back as Marge and Rod were helping Antef out of the coffin.

Antef patted his pockets as if to see if he personally had been robbed. The right-hand pocket of his vest crackled as if stuffed with paper. Momentarily his hand stopped there, then he looked at Lana. “Thank you. Thank you for finding me.”

“Visitors are starting to come in, Antef.” Lana noticed the curious look on the face of a couple who stepped into the second room. To find three people standing around the coffin of Urbena — or had they seen them help Antef out? — they had to wonder what games the staff had been playing.

“I think you'd better see if Dr. Walters is here. If he is, tell him what happened. You could have been seriously hurt,” Lana said, now worried about Antef.

Antef hurried away, and Lana prepared to guide the first group through the exhibit. Instead of standing in one place today, she was helping Marge lead tours. She struggled to put her mind on what she needed to say.

“You think it's all right for me to stay and sketch?” Rod asked her.

“Of course. Why not? Don't forget you're going to show me your sketchbook at lunch.” Lana wanted time to ask Rod some questions. She couldn't say, “Did you put Antef in that coffin?” But maybe she could ask questions about what time he arrived this morning and see if he appeared to be telling the truth.

The possibility that Rod might be playing tricks on her or anyone at the museum would never have occurred to Lana if Blair hadn't brought up his name. Now his involvement was uppermost in her mind. While she led the tours automatically, she quickly made a list of possible suspects. But at first, she couldn't think of anyone. She had been so busy wondering
why
, she'd forgotten to wonder
who
.

After guiding two groups through the exhibit, Lana decided she was close enough to break time to stop for a few minutes. She felt as if she'd never had time to recover from the shock of finding Antef in the coffin before she'd had to go to work.

Then she saw Antef himself returning to work. He glanced around, not seeing her approaching, patted his pocket again, then took out a wadded piece of paper and smoothed it.