“So, are you ready to come clean about what items are not in the storeroom?” Gail asked as soon as Nichols had seated himself.
“Just let me call John, he should probably be here for this,” Nichols said picking up his desk phone.
“Sure, Professor, but remember that it won’t be daylight forever,” Gail said. She put her hands on her hips and leaned onto her left leg. She looked so confident and attractive. Except for relative youth, she was more of what I pictured an archeologist to look like. Calf-high, brown leather lace-up boots, tight jeans, red and black flannel shirt worn outside, to conceal her sidearm, and her hair pulled up into a knot at the back of her head. I started to smile but then scolded myself for not keeping my mind on the business at hand.
Nichols let the phone ring at the other end and then said into the handset, “John, can you come to my office right now? Those people I told you about are in my office. I think you should be here.” He listened for a moment and then said, “Good, see you then.”
Nichols hung the phone up. “He’s just down the hall in the Chairman’s office. He’ll be here in a minute.”
Gail made a show of taking her phone out of her back pocket and checking the display. “Okay, Professor.”
She slipped the phone back into her pocket.
I studied the shelves. Among the reference literature, were several pieces of early American pottery and metalwork. I picked up a small ceramic pot and slowly rotated it in my fingers, studying and tracing the patterns as I did.
“Are these real?” I asked.
“No, they’re reproductions. I couldn’t afford the real ones,” Nichols said.
“Oh? Where did you buy them?”
“I didn’t buy them. I made them. I dabble in pottery and when I find something I like I make a copy of it for my collection. That piece came from a pueblo site I worked a dozen years ago. It’s really a good example of—”
Someone tapped on the glass of the door and it opened immediately.
The man was younger than I expected. He was in his mid-thirties at most; his brown hair was going prematurely gray. It was neatly cut short in a fashion that reminded me of my dad’s. He wore a bone-colored linen jacket over a silk tie and pale yellow shirt. Professor John Robbins noted the three of us, nodded toward Nichols, and pushed the door shut behind him.
Robbins smiled and moved closer to Nichols’ desk. “Paul, what was it you wanted me for?”
Gail stepped back to give Robbins more space and I raised one hand to her back to let her know my position.
Nichols indicated Gail and said, “John, this is Gail Drexler and Jesse Weaver. They are attempting to protect you and me from the spirit we disturbed.”
Robbins eyed the two of us. “That’s commendable, but aren’t you a little young to be ghost busters?”
“Ghost busters?” Gail asked.
“Well, what do you call yourselves?” Robbins asked.
“We call ourselves hunters and don’t let our youth fool you. We’ve been doing this long enough to get good at it,” Gail said.
Robbins smiled. It looked more like a smirk than a smile.
“Of course you are,” he said. He turned toward Nichols. “What did you need, Paul?”
Nichols looked like he’d had a bad burrito for breakfast. “They want to know about any artifacts that may not be in the storeroom. I think we have to tell them.”
Nichols opened his mouth to say something, but Gail interrupted him. “You see, Professors, for a spirit to haunt and attack people who aren’t co-located with its haunting site, the spirit must have a focus, an object that anchors it to this world. We searched the storeroom last night and couldn’t find it. Therefore, someone removed the critical item that we need to dispel it.”
Robbins said, “That’s preposterous.”
“John, if we don’t get their help we both will die,” Nichols.
“You still haven’t convinced me that this spirit is real. They are probably running some kind of scam on you, Paul. You know we didn’t remove anything. Why are you acting like we did?” Robbins asked.
Gail cleared her throat. “Doctor Robbins, you and I should be honest with each other. Jesse and I are here to help you, but we can’t if you keep lying to us. We don’t care if the transfer was legal or not, just tell us what you removed and where we can find it. If you’re not willing to help, then Jesse and I will do what we can to protect Nichols and leave you to your own devices. Since we drove it away from Nichols last night, it’ll probably be after you next anyway.”
Robbins shifted his weight uncomfortably and studied Gail for a long moment without speaking. “Assuming this spirit is real—”
“Didn’t I show you the bruises on my throat?” Nichols asked.
The high collar of his shirt hid most of the discoloration, but when I looked, I could see what he was talking about. There was a line of bruising just at the edge of his collar.
“Okay then, Paul. We did transfer one object. The benefactor who funded this dig wanted a single artifact as a souvenir. We provided it in return for a commitment that it would be donated to the University’s museum on his death.”
“Okay, who did you give it to and where can we find him?” Gail asked.
“His name is Gregory Montgomery. He has a house north of Tuscaloosa, but he’s something of a recluse and doesn’t see many people.” He raised a finger to his chin and then nodded. “I think I can get him to meet with the two of you. He won’t have to return the artifact will he?”
“It depends, we’ll try an exorcism on the artifact, but if that doesn’t work we’ll have to destroy it. What is it anyway?” Gail asked.
“It’s
