Timeless (21 page)

If they chose to ignore the dreams and visions, what would that mean to them? They could go their separate ways at the end of the summer without any attachment or heartache.

And what would it mean if they didn’t?

At the vibration of steps approaching, Regan raised her head.

Dr. Malone studied her drawing. “We have photographs of the markings.” Thick chested, and with a heavy layer of muscle along his shoulders and biceps he looked like a short Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“It doesn’t hurt to have a drawn record, too,” she said as she added a touch more shading to the left side of the stone. “And it gives me time to unwind at the end of the day.”

He gripped a nearby water hose and coiled it into a neat circle. “It’s been my experience that salvage divers are a salty lot. Not the kind of blokes I’d choose to associate with my daughter.”

First Logan and now Malone. Was this Regan Stanhope warning day? She remained silent a moment while she added a darker line here and there to the drawing and wrestled with the rush of resentment. “I wouldn’t have thought you were old enough to have a daughter my age, Dr. Malone.”

At his continued silence, she looked up. A brief, wry smile infused his heavy features with homely charm. “Not old enough, yet. She’s twelve going on twenty. I can see what I have to look forward to already.”

“Not necessarily.” Regan shut her sketchpad and shoved to her feet. “When I was twelve I was busy being the perfect little princess for my mother, and the academic whiz kid my father expected. I thought it more important to please them than myself.”

And she was still trying to do that. Why couldn’t she decide what she wanted without weighing them into the equation?

Dr. Malone’s look of surprise, forced her to control any further impulsive words. “I think I’ve had it for the day, sir. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Certainly.”

She stuffed her drawing pad in her backpack and hitched it over her shoulder. “Had Quinn Douglas not intervened, I may have lost my life the first day I was here. They may play hard, but professionally he and his crew are exemplary at what they do. And they aren’t salty around the students, especially around the girls.”

“Very good.” Dr. Malone said.

Regan drew a deep breath. “See you tomorrow, sir.” As she walked away from Malone, she decided exactly what she wanted—for now.

CHAPTER 20

As Regan dried the dishes after their meal, exhaustion bore down on her. She rolled her head to relieve the tension in her neck and sore shoulders.

“You look all in,” Sheary said as she handed her another plate.

Since her hands were full, Regan covered a yawn with her forearm. “I am.”

Sheary’s features settled into lines of concern. “You’re goin’ to have to learn to pace yourself, Regan. You’ll burn yourself out before summer’s half done if you keep this up.”

Regan drew a deep breath. “I know. Quinn said as much this afternoon.” She frowned. The vision he’d told her about, calling it a dream for the COM system tape, disturbed her. All these warnings were becoming nerve racking.

Sheary sent her a sidelong look. “He’s smitten with you. Has been since that first day.”

Was he? Or was it just the remnants of what they had shared in the past? He seemed seriously concerned for her safety. And had been from the first. Had something perhaps happened before—? God, it was too much to think about when she was so tired.

Sheary handed her another plate. “It would be better to burn out with him than scrubbing inanimate stones. You’ll get a great deal more satisfaction from a flesh and blood man than a rock. Don’t you think?”

Regan stretched to place a bowl in an overhead cabinet and smiled. “Yeah, I would, if he wasn’t stuck inside an eight by fifteen foot specimen jar. The only way we can talk is over a com system.”

“We have phone sex even in the UK,” Sheary said, an impish grin.

Regan laughed. “I’m not giving some other guy a vicarious thrill listening to my COM system conversations, thank you. Actually,
several
other guys. And they’re taped as well.”

“Well there’s somethin’ to be said for lookin’ and longin’ from afar. All that pent up testosterone and sexual frustration could ensure that the —‘welcome back to the real world sex,’ she made quotations in the air with her fingers, “could be—explosive.”

A rush of heat hit Regan’s face, and she bumped her with a hip. “You’re incorrigible.” She hung her damp dishtowel over the handle of one of the cabinets. “I’m hitting the hay.”

Regan exited the kitchen and paused as a knock sounded at the front door. Helen marked the place in her book and started to rise from the couch, but Regan waved her back down.

She opened the door then stared in surprise. Andrew Argus stood on their small stoop a large box in his hands. “Is there something we can do for you, Mr. Argus?”

With a case slung over each shoulder, he motioned with the box he carried. “I’ve come bearing replacement computers for you and Ms. MacKay.”

“Oh—“ She eyed the cases.

Argus’s amused smile had her shaking off the surprise and collecting her wits. “Oh, please come in.” She backed away and held the door wide for him.

“I’ll get Hannah,” Sheary said and disappeared down the hall.

“Mr. Nicodemus was made aware of the break-in and the loss of your and Ms. MacKay’s computers right after it happened. He also received a copy of the drawings and notes you took to Dr. Fraser a few days ago. He wanted me to tell you he thought them excellent work.”

Why was Nicodemus receiving copies of her work? Perhaps he expected copies of everything, since he was paying for it. Wary of the man’s praise, Regan said, “Please thank him for me.”

Hannah wandered into the living room from the hallway. Her anxious expression mirrored Regan’s feelings. ”Hello, Mr. Argus.”

Argus smiled at her. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. MacKay.”

He set the box on the coffee table. Opening it, he extended one of the computer cases to Regan and the other to Hannah. “We’ve had some of the most useful programs installed on both computers, since you may need them to work on the project. Since you do such wonderful drawings, Ms. Stanhope, there’s architectural software installed you can download your drawings into and manipulate them.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to check it out. We thought it would be weeks before the insurance would kick in and replace the computers. Possibly the rest of the summer.”

“Mr. Nicodemus doesn’t like delays.” His dark eyes moved from Regan to the other girls. “He’s also aware that providing workers with the tools they need expedites the job.”

“That’s certainly a most productive mind set, sir,” Hannah said.

Argus opened the box he’d laid on the coffee table and handed them each a CD case. “This is your copy of the software.”

“I’m quite overwhelmed by Mr. Nicodemus’s generosity, Mr. Argus,” Hannah said.

“Me, too,” Regan said. “We’ll be sending him thank you notes right away.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to receive them. He’s most interested in your drawings and notes, Ms. Stanhope.” He removed a business card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and tucked it beneath her thumb where she held the CD case. “Be sure to forward them to him as you complete them.”

Regan focused on the email address written in bold black letters across the bottom of the card. Alarm skittered along her nerve endings. What was it he’d found so interesting about the drawings and notes? Had she inadvertently left some of her private notes in one of the documents? Surely not. She’d gone over them several times before passing them on to Dr. Fraser.

Did it really matter why Nicodemus wanted them? He was paying her salary and everyone else’s. Paying for everything.

She swallowed her concern and forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll be happy to share them with him, sir.”

“Good.” Argus nodded. “Then I’ll leave you. It’s growing late, and I know you’ve had a busy day.”

“Yes, sir. We’re all a little fatigued,” Hannah said, shifting the computer and paraphernalia to her hip.

“Good digging tomorrow, ladies,” he nodded to Helen and Sheary.

Helen rushed to open the door for him, and he murmured a thank you. She rolled her eyes as she shut the door behind him, and then moved to the window to peer out. “Wonder why Nicodemus sent him to deliver the computers? Any flunky could have done it.”

Behind her glasses, Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “He sent Argus because he wanted to be sure to get a look at Regan’s drawings and notes first thing instead of asking Dr. Fraser to give them to him. Wonder what he’s got up his sleeve?”

Hearing Hannah voice her suspicion made it easier for Regan to state her own. “I don’t know, but I don’t trust it. As much as I’m thrilled to have a computer—“ She shook her head. “When it looks too good to be true, it usually is. There’s got to be a catch.”

“I know what it is.” Sheary leaned against the corner leading into the hallway.

“Well?” Helen asked.

“Argus is a vampire, and we’ve opened the door to being attacked in our sleep because we invited him in.”

Regan and Hannah groaned. Helen threw a pillow at her.

Sheary batted it away, and it bounced onto the couch then off into the floor. “Well, he does always dress in black and resemble a bat, doesn’t he?” She picked up the pillow, and as she straightened, focused on Regan, her expression serious. “Watch your back Regan. Nobody does anything for anyone for nothin’. Especially men.”

Sheary’s unexpected cynicism intensified Regan’s anxiety. “They don’t offer you politics one-o-one when you train to be an archaeologist. I want to be in the thick of things on the dig, not singled out by, or dropped into political quicksand with someone like Nicodemus.” She drew a deep breath.

What would Quinn think? What would he suggest she do? What could she do but continue to do her job?

“Relax, Regan. It could be as small a thing as him wanting to use your drawings to drum up publicity later on,” Hannah said, in an obvious attempt to comfort her.

“I hope so.” She ran fingers through her hair and flinched as the muscles in her shoulders protested. If she had accidentally included something on the drawings or notes… “Now that I’m completely freaked out, I’m going to bed.”

Her shoulders ached from reaching up all day. She swallowed a couple of ibuprofen and set up the laptop. It booted up faster than her old machine. Her hand shook as she plugged her flash drive into the port and opened the files she’d given Dr. Fraser.

She scanned each drawing and read through every note. They were clean. Perhaps Hannah was right and Nicodemus wanted a drawn record of the site as it progressed for advertising purposes.

She got ready for bed and slid beneath the covers. As she stared at the ceiling, a persistent niggling claustrophobia attacked her. She was in over her head. If only Quinn were here to talk to.

She shivered and rolled onto her side. Curling into a ball, she folded her arms against her. It was so hard to admit that she needed anyone. She was too used to making her own way. Striving to do a good job. Working to make her parents proud.

Why was she so driven to do that? To prove she was worthy of love?

Had Coira had the same drive? Or had she just had the conviction of her faith? The conviction that she was there to heal her people.

What had that conviction cost her? Braden? Her child?

Regan flinched from the thought. She had experienced Coira’s fear, her love, and experienced the passion they shared. Braden’s concern for her had been sincere. Braden wouldn’t have left her, or she him.

Why did she feel she had to figure this out? What did she have to gain from it?

For a long time she pondered the questions.

The physical and emotional connection she had to the woman was what drove her. Though she didn’t know it—she had no physical proof—Coira felt like family.

Could that be why Coira had reached out to her? But what was it she expected her to do?

With a groan she turned her face into the pillow. She had worked her way back to where she’d started. The only way to find out was to go to Edinburgh and see if they could uncover some reference to the couple in any texts at the library. That could take days, weeks, months, and years. And she’d only have a few days. What could she do to expedite things? An idea sent goose bumps chasing across her skin and she shivered. Quinn would be with her. She could do it.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

*****

Mist rolled in off the water and shrouded the lower half of the stones. The lintels perched atop them appeared as a bridge that crossed the mist. They had proven in the past few days they crossed other things as well.

He hated them, hated the calling they represented to Coira. He continued on down the dirt path. It widened and he quickened his pace as he heard voices from below.

“’Tis a pagan ritual you are doing. ‘Tis blasphemy.”

Coira’s voice, higher pitched than the other, traveled easier to him. “Are priests the only one who can pray, then? I’ve done nothing different from you, Nathrach MacLeod.”

“But to do it in such a place— In front of such an altar. Do you fashion yourself a priestess?“

“Nay. Never! Do I testify to your flock in any way, Father? Do I heal their hurts and give praise to anyone but God?”

Fear raced through Braden, capturing his breath and making the simple act of drawing air into his lungs difficult. He lengthened his strides. The mist parted to reveal Coira and the priest facing each other across the stone altar. What had he witnessed? What had she been doing?

“It is just a place.” She thrust her hand upward followed the circle with a gesture that had the priest flinching. “Is the world not God’s temple? Is he not everywhere we walk and breathe?”

“Aye, but this is a pagan place. Possibly filled with evil,” Nathrach said, his voice trembling.

“The only evil I have ever witnessed comes from man, Priest.” Braden spoke as he closed the distance between them. He folded his arms and looked about the circle. “What evil can a rock do lest it be thrown by a man?”