that I’ve ascertained your relative health, it’s time to send for your friend. I intend to have a gracious welcome prepared for her.”
Brilliant. Mina Holmes would walk right into that trap.
She gestured, and Hathor came toward me. I kicked and bucked. Sekhmet wavered after I yanked especially hard on the ankle chains looped around her, but the Ankh and Hathor steadied the statue before it tumbled over. Hathor swung out with a powerful hand. The blow caught me against the side of the face and, unable to brace myself, I slammed to the floor. My temple hit the ground hard, and before I could recover, Hathor grabbed me from behind. He forced me onto my knees so I couldn’t kick, and held my arms immobile. One large hand covered my nose and mouth, smothering me into stillness. I gasped for breath against his sweaty, dirty hand but couldn’t twist my face away.
Only then did the Ankh feel safe enough to get close to me. I let her see the triumph in my eyes.
When the Ankh bent close, something silver in her hand, my pulse jumped. Could she know my weakness? Was she going to cut me? Spill more blood?
She reached for me, my neck, and grabbed a handful of my hair. Twisting it viciously, she brought a silver object toward my face. I closed my eyes, steeling myself, waiting for the pain. My mind was clear.
You’re a Venator. You’re strong. Fight.
Then I heard the soft snip and a bit of my hair fell away.
Miss Holmes
An Impossible Choice
Dylan arrived at my house just before eleven o’clock, carrying a heavy satchel.
Ignoring Mrs. Raskill’s muttering about more comings and goings, I brought him into the parlor so he could show me the diadem. He greeted me with a smile and seemed to be moving toward me as if to offer an embrace, but caught himself at the last minute. A light stain flushed his cheeks, and he stepped back.
“You’re wearing pants.” The way his eyes traveled over my trouser-covered limbs made me self-conscious about the way the fabric clung to my shape. I felt indecent and exposed, and the way his blue eyes filtered over me made my cheeks heat up.
“I . . . erm . . .”
He smiled and sat down without waiting for me to do so first. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Mina. I was just surprised. You look really hot—uh, really good in pants. In my time, girls—women—wear them all the time. It’s considered completely normal.”
My discomfort eased in favor of curiosity. “Is that true? Women can wear trousers in the future without it being frowned upon?”
“And a lot of other things you’d find scandalous. Like short skirts,” he added with a bashful grin.
I bit my lip, holding back more questions that bubbled to the surface. It never seemed the right time to ask him all the things I wanted to know. I’d have to save my interrogation for another time—when I didn’t have a friend’s life to save.
“Very well,” I said. “Back to the matter at hand. I’m relieved you located the diadem. It’s a most fortuitous discovery, considering the development of the last twenty-four hours.” I explained the events of the night before, leaving out my disastrous detour to Lady Cosgrove-Pitt’s house. “And so I’m going to deliver the diadem to the Ankh.”
“And I’ll be going with you,” Dylan said. He raised a hand at my sound of negation, his blue eyes boring into me. “I’ve been stuck in the darned museum for almost two weeks, and it’s time I did something besides sulk. You can’t go alone, Mina. And it’s not because you’re a woman,” he added when I began to fume. “Remind me to tell you about Amelia Earhart and Jane Goodall someday. Going alone would be crazy, especially after last night. You should have taken me with you, or at least told the police. And besides all that, if the statue of Sekhmet is there, I want to see it. Maybe I can find a way to use it to get home.”
I had a variety of reactions to this pronouncement. First, I found I rather liked this Dylan who spoke with such strength and passion. Who didn’t think that simply being a woman was a reason not to go alone. And who liked the way I looked in trousers.
And second, I had a sudden, brilliant idea with which only he could assist me.
And third . . . I felt an unexpected pang at the thought of Dylan finding his way back to the future. Just as I was getting to know him, to feel as if we had some sort of connection, he might be leaving. I hadn’t felt such kinship with another person in a long time. Perhaps ever.
“Naturally I can’t tell Scotland Yard about this,” I said. “The Ankh is too smart; surely she’ll be watching for us when we arrive to make the exchange. If there are any authorities in the vicinity, I’m certain the deal will be off. Will you show me the diadem?”
Dylan pulled the item out of his satchel, and I examined it eagerly. It looked exactly like the drawing in the text I’d been reading. There was no doubt that, regardless whether it had actually belonged to Sekhmet or not, it was the instrument of legend. Delicate gold filigree created a very un-Egyptian-like crown. Two topazes were set in such a way in the front of the crown that they appeared to be lion’s eyes, and the slender gold was wrought in the shape of a lioness’s snout and whiskers.
“It was where we thought it was, wasn’t it?” I couldn’t allow the Ankh to have it. There had to be another way.
I’d make a copy. I had the equipment in my lab, and we had at least another hour before my acceptance of the Ankh’s arrangement was delivered.
“Do you have your special telephone with you?” I asked, my mind working again on the half-formed plan I’d already been considering.
“Yes, although it’s low on battery, so I’ve had it turned off for most of the last week. I have to find a way to charge it. But I can still use it.”
“Can you force it to emit sounds and noises at will?”
“I sure can.”
“Come into the laboratory. I’ll tell you my plan while I work.” I needed something to occupy my hands as well as my mind while we waited to hear of Evaline.
Time crawled, and it was well after five o’clock when Mrs. Raskill interrupted us.
“It’s your visitor again,” she said, poking her head around the ajar door. “Lands!”
Finally. I’d been unable to contain my growing apprehension for Evaline and her safety.
“At last we’ll find out how to make the exchange,” I said to Dylan, gesturing at the false diadem. It required only a few more adjustments, and I was confident it would easily pass muster as the instrument in question.
I hurried out of the laboratory, wiping my hands on a rag, and then stopped short. “Inspector Grayling.” Drat!
“Good afternoon, Miss Holmes,” he said, his voice cool and unemotional as he held his hat in a large, freckled hand. His eyes widened fractionally, however, as they swept over me in my masculine garb, bringing a warm flush to my cheeks.
Dylan might be accustomed to seeing women in trousers, but Grayling was not.
“How may I help you?” I asked as Dylan appeared from behind me.
Grayling’s attention went to him and his expression turned stony. “I’ve come to take your statement regarding the events of last evening.” He spoke to me, but seemed unable to pull his attention from Dylan.
“I’m rather busy at the moment.”
“Obviously,” Grayling replied crisply. He returned his attention to Dylan. “Have you been notified when you’ll stand trial for the attempted break-in?”
I gawked at him, shocked by his rudeness, but Dylan didn’t seem to mind. “I’ve been lucky. The museum isn’t going to press charges, thanks to Miss Adler. She took care of it all before she left town.” He glanced at me. “I meant to tell you earlier—Miss Adler had to leave unexpectedly.”
I nodded and quelled an unfamiliar moment of uncertainty. My mentor was gone, and I was on my own. I’d already made one grave error. . . .
