The Mummy (6 page)

“Oh, I'd forgotten about it.” Lana pulled up the sleeve of her jacket. The small cut had started to bleed again. Antef pulled apart the paper and placed the adhesive strip over the wound. He held this thumb tight on it for a minute.

“Antef, I'm so sorry, so sorry.” The idea that she could have prevented tonight's loss flooded over Lana again.

Antef held on to her arm for a few minutes. His hands were so warm, his eyes so intense. “You cannot worry, Lana. This is not your fault. It is a great loss, but surely we will find the piece. Your police here are very efficient, I think.”

“No pawnshop would take the necklace, Antef. The thief could never hope to sell it. If he took it for the money, he may be disappointed.”

“This is true. We have photos. The newspapers can publish the photos.”

“I have heard that private collectors sometimes buy stolen art pieces only for themselves. But surely — that's so selfish.”

“Please, I will worry for you.” Antef smiled. “You must not feel bad.”

“I do. I can't help it. Your government trusted us to have this show here. This makes our museum look bad.” Lana couldn't stop talking.

“I can take you home?” Antef asked. “It is late, and the rain, I think the rain comes.”

“No, thank you, Antef, no. I live close.” Lana certainly didn't need anyone worrying about her. “You stay here and worry for me.” She tried to smile.

At the door, a policeman had to go and get permission from Callahan for Lana to leave. While she waited she hugged herself, feeling colder and colder. She paced back and forth near the gift shop, staying away from the front door opening and closing, as visitors were questioned and allowed to leave.

Finally the young policeman returned and nodded at her. “You may leave, Miss Richardson. Are you all right?”

“Yes, just cold. Thank you.” Lana slipped out the front entrance of the museum and hurried away. She debated for seconds whether or not to cut across the park. It was so much closer.

A foggy mist rolled along the lawns and swirled in and out of the trees. The dampness brought with it a silence that spread around her, making her feel isolated, alone in time, caught in some kind of unreal landscape, not of this earth.

In no time she was wet and shivering harder. She had lost her perception of how far she had walked, how much farther it was to the street.

From behind a tree slid a fuzzy vaporous light suspended like a small moon to guide her. That must be the corner of Downing and Seventeenth.

No traffic passed, no sounds reached her at all, making the silence even more frightening. Then the whispering started.

Calling her name. “Lana, Lana. Give it back, Lana.”

She whirled around, trying to decide from which direction the voice came.

“What? Give what back?” She knew what.

“Give back my necklace. It is mine.”

Lana stopped and stared into the fog, swung around and looked behind her, beside her. Into the huddle of dark trees to her right.

Wisps of fog drifted, formed gray fingers that pulled back curtains of mist to reveal a dark shape. The shadowy figure walked slowly toward her, making a squishy sound in the wet grass. Lana's feet became heavy, as if coated with blobs of mud. Her shoes pulled her legs down, rooted them in place.

She blinked and her eyes focused more and more until she could make out what the figure was.

Before her, not six feet away, stood Nefra. Not the beautiful boy on the lid of the coffin. But the musty-smelling, bandaged, mummified body.

Chapter 8

Her legs drained, going soft and weak. Time became silent seconds. She held her breath until her chest ached.

“Give it back,” the mummy whispered again. The voice was the same hoarse whisper of the museum darkness. “Give back the necklace. You are already
cursed
.”

Slowly, as if thousands of years had stiffened the arm, one hand rose. One blackened finger pointed.

Lana stepped back.

And back.

And back.

She could not scream, nor speak, nor could she take her eyes from this apparition.

Once more she stepped back. She stumbled and fell backward over something behind her.

Seti!

The cat arched his spine. Fur spiked and swelled, doubling the cat's small size. A terrible hiss rent the silent curtain of mist that hung over them.

Now the mummy stepped back.

And back.

And back.

On stiffened legs, Seti bounced forward, ready to attack. A yowl started in the back of his throat and swelled to a shriek. Launching himself on catapult back legs, he leaped and tore at the gauzy covering of Nefra's shroud.

No longer stiff, the mummy flung off the cat and fled. Seti didn't chase him, just arched and danced forward a few more feet.

Lana found her voice. “Seti, oh, Seti. Come here, please come to me.”

Seti lowered his spiked fur, gave it two swift licks, and walked softly to where Lana sat on the wet grass. He rubbed against her legs, butting his head on her knee, purring as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if tonight was only another stroll in the park to meet Lana and walk her home.

She gathered the warm body to her chest, tucked him under her chin, and took comfort from his familiar company.

“Oh, Seti.” She breathed out the words over and over. That was all she could say. Thank you for saving me from the mummy, was much too ridiculous a statement.

Had she imagined the monstrous sight? Was this some bad dream from which she would awake, safe in her bed, Seti curled close to chase away the nightmare?

No. She was still in the park behind the museum. She was sitting on the wet ground. Her pants were fast becoming soaked. Rain fell from the sky now, the mist turning to a steady pour. Uncontrollable shivers told her she must get up and hurry home. She needed a hot shower and — and what? A safe harbor to begin with. Then she'd think about what had just happened. She struggled to her feet and ran.

“Lana, is that you?” her mother called as she stepped inside the front door. “Why are you so late? I was getting terribly worried.”

“Oh, Mom, we had an awful night.” Lana unloaded part of her story. “Just before closing someone smashed the case where the wedding necklace was on display and took it. Security locked all the doors and the police came and we had to answer all these questions — no one had an answer — but they let people go one by one, hoping to find the thief.”

Lana didn't tell her mother that at first they suspected her. Well, maybe they never really thought she took the necklace, but it seemed that way at the time. She was the one closest to it. She could have faked the whole event if she were stupid enough to think she could get away with it.

“You're soaked. Go take a hot shower and get your robe on. I'll heat you some potato soup — I made a pot for supper — and you can talk while you eat.” Her mother's face registered surprise at last. “Did — where did you find Seti? I called and called him when it started to drizzle. He didn't — ”

“He came to meet me. I don't know how he found his way, but — but — ” What she wanted to say was, thank God he did, but then her mother would want to know why she was so relieved to be met by a cat instead of worried about his finding his way to the museum. “But he did. You're right, I have to shower.” She fled to her room.

She let the hot water pound on her body until some of the stiffness and cold retreated. Until some of her leftover fear dissolved and floated down the shower drain.

By the time she slipped into her pajamas, bathrobe, and fuzzy slippers, anger had taken the place of fear.

That was
not
the mummy of Nefra who had approached her in the park. Thousand-year-old bodies don't get out of coffins and go walking in the rain.

Someone was trying to frighten her. Someone
had
frightened her. Why? Why would anyone want to do that? The whispers in the dark museum, now this intricate dressing up in order to appear in the mist.

Effective — yes. At the time. In the real world of her home, her exotic, Egyptian-decorated bedroom, not believable. She wasn't some silly schoolgirl who'd be intimidated by theater tricks.

“I can think that now, can't I, Seti?” Lana walked over and picked up the cat, who had taken the opportunity to wash his own wet skin and fur and slick it back into perfect order. He was putting on the last licks when Lana lifted him and hugged him close. “Thank you, thank you again, Seti. I don't know how you knew to come, but I'm glad you did.”

Seti got a bowl of warm milk. Lana, a bowl of her mother's delicious and comforting potato, onion, and celery soup. Rich, melted butter floated in golden patterns across the thick, creamy mixture. Bay leaf spiced the soup perfectly. Lana ate the entire bowl and licked her spoon before she spoke.

“Thanks, Mom. That saved my sanity.” She reached for a slice of homemade garlic bread and chewed off a mouthful as her mother refilled the bowl.

“Do they have any idea who might have taken the necklace?” Mrs. Richardson finally asked. Lana knew she had been holding back a million questions.

“No. All they could do was take everyone's name who remained in the museum. The thief could have escaped before they locked the doors. Or he may have hidden it and will go back later when things calm down. They'll keep looking, of course.”

Lana told her mother the whole story again from start to finish — well, almost to the end. She didn't add the final drama in the park. She didn't want her mother worried about letting her walk to the museum alone, or come home at night alone. Lana would worry about that enough for both of them.

But if that — that thing tried to frighten her again, she was going to go after it herself, catch whoever thought this was a joke or even felt he was frightening her.

Sure you will. No problem. You are one brave lady, Lana
.

Okay, she liked thinking she would. She didn't like someone thinking they could scare her so easily. She wasn't some wimpy little creature who was afraid of every shadow.

“Lana, is anything else wrong?” Her mother was too intuitive. Lana had gotten quiet for too long.

“I'm exhausted, Mom. This has been one long weekend. I'm not going to finish any term paper tonight, either.”

“I will refrain from saying anything about leaving it until the last minute.” Her mother smiled.

“Thanks, Mom. You're all heart.” Lana licked her spoon a second time, and felt comfortably stuffed and warm at last. She sipped the hot tea her mother had poured for her and looked at Seti.

The cat washed his face, licking a paw, swiping it over his cheek and chin, licked again, swiped. He looked like any perfectly ordinary alley cat, but he acted like a person. A very smart and intuitive person. One who was connected —

Seti gave her that look that seemed like a smile again. He knew she was looking at him, thinking about him. He was connected to her mind.

This was a psychic cat. She and Seti had a psychic connection. She picked him up and headed upstairs to read in bed. She didn't know if Seti made her feel safe or uneasy.

The next morning she dressed for school — surely she didn't have to go to school. That was too normal. What she wanted to do was be at the museum when it opened and look everywhere for the wedding necklace. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced the thief didn't try to take the jewelry out of the museum last night. He'd hid the collar, planning to get it later.

Seti watched her put on jeans and her red sweater over a navy turtleneck. The morning was damp and cold. She had closed her window last night, but her room was icy.

She picked up the still damp, crumpled slacks and blouse from the floor in front of her closet. Her museum vest looked awful. She'd have to hurry home from school and press it before she went to work. Monday. Was she scheduled for Monday? She'd go anyway.

Placing the vest on a hanger, she noticed a lump in the pocket. She put one finger into the shallow opening and came up with a button. She stared at it.

The button matched the buttons on her own vest, but she wasn't missing one. A tiny memory surfaced. She had grabbed at the thief's clothing, trying to hold on to him. She must have torn this button from his vest and then put it in her pocket without thinking when she was trying to stop her arm from bleeding.

So the thief was a volunteer for the Egyptian exhibit. That narrowed the search considerably. He wasn't some person who'd come in as if looking at the relics and then waited for a chance to take the priceless jewelry.

Should she call the police right now and give it to them as evidence? Probably. But she didn't. She wasn't sure why. Instead, she placed it in the small pocket at the waist of her jeans.

The school day seemed endless. At noon, Rod grabbed her and made her tell everything that had happened last night — twice. Darrah approached her in chemistry class and questioned her. She was almost friendly, but then she wanted information. Josh worried about her getting hurt. The incident was over, but she had to talk fast to make him feel better.

Begging Josh to take her home before he went to work, she dashed into the house to press her vest. She had called the museum at noon to ask if she could work extra time, since her schedule revealed she wasn't on today. Mrs. Cocharan said fine, that Dr. Walters wanted to talk to her again anyway.

Making sure her bedroom window was locked tight, and that Seti was asleep on her bed, she slipped out the front door and locked it behind her.

She didn't head straight for Dr. Walters' office, however. She had to look at the smashed display case first. The glass was cleaned up and the case gone, of course. In its place was a smaller case with the treasures the thief had left behind. She stared for a moment at the carnelian cat who sat tall and straight, imitating Seti.

She moved to study a mummified cat, embalmed and wrapped exactly like the human bodies. She knew why these people had worshipped cats. Not just because they saved their crops from rats and mice, but for their mystery. She was fast thinking of Seti as a mysterious animal for whom she had all the respect in the world, more than she did for some humans.