Page 93 of Dead Girl Running
“Priscilla…”
“That girl? She was smuggling? No.” He was very certain. “She didn’t want to do the work to get rich. She wanted to sleep her way into it.”
“We speculate that she stole those items from the smugglers and—”
He caught on at once and finished the sentence for her. “They murdered her.”
“And drugged Lloyd Magnuson when he was to drive her body to the coroner and took the body before it could be examined.”
He looked again at the art and said in an astonished tone, “Damn. I could be in trouble. It’s all the fault of the tablet.”
34
“Tablet?” Kellen counted the pieces on the shelf. They were missing one.
“The last piece of the collection is a tablet chiseled from the tomb wall. Very rare find.” Carson’s enthusiasm began to rise. “Most Mayans wrote on paper called amate, made from the wild fig tree.”
Kellen widened her eyes at him.
“And…you don’t care.” He sighed and got back on the subject. “I don’t read Mayan hieroglyphs well, so I brought it back here with the others and used my college textbook to translate the symbols. It’s a curse, and I’m superstitious enough to not want to be tormented by a long-dead Mayan lord, so I returned it to the storage room.”
“The way things are going, I don’t know if you replaced it quickly enough.” She gestured at the statues. “Can we package these up? I’ll take them to Max for safekeeping. That’ll be one worry relieved.”
“Of course. I’ve got the parcel they came in.” He went to his closet and came out with an oblong box filled with Bubble Wrap.
Together they wrapped the tomb art.
“I would think the last piece is safe enough in storage. We’ll get it when we’ve secured the situation.” She offered her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Lennex, you’ve solved half the crime.”
He took her hand and held it. “What’s the other half?”
“Who’s doing this.”
“One scary bastard.”
“We need something a little more definite than that, but I believe we’re getting close. Let me get these off your hands, and we’ll move on to the next step.” The box was heavy for its size, and knowing what was inside, she used both hands to carry it.
He escorted her to the elevator, pushed the button to summon it and said with some humor, “Next time I find you in my bedroom, can I assume you’ve come on a less deadly quest?”
“Of course, Mr. Lennex. Please be careful. I’m not the only one who knows you had the artifacts.”
“Who else?”
“Mitch Nyugen.”
“He works in maintenance and he drives for the resort. He’s a friend of yours.” Carson was very well-informed. “Are we suspicious of him?”
“Suspiciousis a strong word. Let’s say wary.”
“He’s been here less time than you have.”
“He could be working for the scary bastard, and if that’s the truth…” She took a breath. “Mitch was a good soldier. He’s trained to survive, and he’s trained to kill.”
“He’s the real deal.”
“Precisely.” The doors opened and she got in. “To get him out of the way, I sent him to the airstrip with the last of the guests, but if he works for or with someone, he could have contacted them.”
“Someone who cuts off people’s hands? I’ll be careful. You, too.” He saluted as the doors closed.
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