His phone rang before he could respond.

"Great. I'll drive over right now. Thanks a lot."

He hung up and told her, "Sweet Thing is ready to come home. Want to take a ride with me?"

"I would, except that I have that meeting with Louise and Olivia, the new public relations person, in five minutes. She wanted me to talk to her about Alistair and his expeditions, and what we want to accomplish by reopening the museum so she can start doing her thing. Louise and the trustees are afraid all the publicity about the murders is putting the school in a bad light, and they want to put the emphasis back on the museum."

"Accentuate the positive."

"So to speak." She checked her watch. "I need to get over there now."

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close. He kissed her mouth, then the tip of her chin. "Sweet Thing and I will be waiting for you when you get back."

"How long do you think you'll be?"

"Hour and a half, two hours, tops. Do you want me to wait so you can go with me?"

"I'd rather have her picked up sooner than later. Poor baby. She's probably wondering what's going on." Daria grabbed her bag and slipped it over her shoulder. "I don't expect this meeting to run too long. I should be back here by the time you are."

"Great." He stood and gave her one more kiss. "I'll see you then."

Louise was standing at the end of the conference table when Vita showed Daria into the office. Olivia was seated at the table with a notebook in front of her.

"How are you, Olivia?" Daria extended her hand to the trustee. "Louise tells me you've agreed to take on the media on the university's behalf. You're a brave woman."

"I liken it to falling upon my sword for the greater good." The carefully coiffed blonde smiled.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Daria inwardly grimaced at the image.

"Poor choice on my part." Olivia rolled her eyes. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Swell, Daria thought. A PR person who doesn't think before she opens her mouth.

"We thought we'd put out a press release before we planned a real press conference." Olivia paused. "You don't suppose there will be any more murders, do you? I'd really like to avoid inviting the media to the school and then have to explain another murder."

"There's no way of knowing what's going to happen."

"Well, then, I suppose we can't worry about it." Louise pointed to a chair. "Daria, I'd like you to fill Olivia in on everything you know about your great-grandfather, his expeditions, the museum...all of it. Olivia, I expect you to take copious notes."

Over the next hour, Daria shared everything she could think of, from the earliest stories she'd heard from her father to actually opening the crates in the museum bas.e.m.e.nt and holding in her hands the very objects her ancestor had found.

"This is a wonderful story," Olivia told her. "I think you're definitely going to have to be at whatever media gathering we schedule. No one will be able to tell that story the way you just did. And I think I'd like you to look over the press release once it's written, maybe add a little something in your own words, if you don't mind."

"I'd be happy to."

"And I'm happy to see a positive light shining down on my hometown and my alma mater." Olivia tucked her notes into her purse. "Louise, if we're finished...?"

"If you're satisfied that you have enough information, then I'd say we're done." Louise reached for the phone and pressed the intercom b.u.t.ton. "Vita, could you step in here, please?"

"I'm more than satisfied. I'm going to run right home and work on this today."

"Here's my cell number." Daria wrote the number on a slip of paper and handed it to Olivia. "Call me if you think of anything else."

"Will do." Olivia smiled.

"By the way, Olivia," Daria said, "you grew up in Howeville?"

"Well, right outside of town, yes."

"Does the name Dragonis ring a bell?"

"No, I don't think so." Olivia frowned. "No, that doesn't ring a bell."

"Louise, did you need something?" Vita walked into the room.

"Yes. I have a meeting with the architect in about thirty minutes. Would you please make a photocopy of the original floor plans for him?"

"They're in your bottom drawer."

"Oh, right. Just take them, if you would. Thanks, Vita." Louise shook her head. "I do not know what I'd do without you."

"You'd never be able to find a thing and you'd never get anywhere on time." Vita winked as she started out of the room, the folder holding the floor plans in her hand.

"Vita," Daria called to her. "Could I ask you a question?"

"Sure. As long as it has nothing to do with my weight or my age."

"Neither." Daria stepped around Olivia, who had been sitting next to her. "I was just wondering. The photos that you found, the ones that were taken at Shandihar. Were there any other packs of photos?"

"No." Vita shook her head. "I gave you everything I found."

"Could you tell me again where you found them?"

"In a box in one of the filing cabinets downstairs."

"Was the cabinet locked?" Daria asked.

"No. Those cabinets down there are so old, I don't think any of them even have locks."

"Did you show them to anyone else? Or mention them to anyone?"

"No. Once I realized what was in the envelopes, I brought them right up and handed them to Louise."

Louise looked up from her briefcase where she was packing what she thought she'd need for her meeting.

"Well, no, not exactly," she said. "Don't you remember, the envelopes were on your desk, and while you were at lunch, I accidentally knocked them off when I grabbed a file that was sitting on top and all the pictures fell on the floor..."

"I did forget about that." Vita laughed and rolled her eyes. "What a mess trying to put the files back together."

"Luckily for me, Sabina came in while I was trying to pick it all up," Louise continued. "These old knees don't bend the way they used to."

"Sabina saw the photographs?" Daria asked.

"She saw the ones she picked up off the floor, certainly. A whole set of them fell under Vita's desk, and Sabina was kind enough to retrieve them for me."

"Interesting that they turned up right after you started talking about the museum," Daria said.

"Well, actually, we started talking about the museum back in the fall," Olivia said. "Remember, Louise? It was right before Halloween, and I was telling you how we used to have Halloween parties in the courtyard when I was a student here. And I said what a shame that the university couldn't reopen it and maybe find a way to make some money from it." She turned to Daria. "I didn't know about the treasure in antiquities in the bas.e.m.e.nt then. If I had, I would have pressed Louise to bring it up to the board right away."

"Well, yes, now that you mention it, I do remember." Louise smiled. "I think that might have been what planted the idea in my head. Sometime after that, I asked Vita to see what she could find in the archives about the museum. And that's right about the time I realized some of Alistair McGowan's journals were right there in my bookcase, and made the connection to the museum. So of course I read them, and about that time Sabina returned the ones she had borrowed..."

"I'll make these copies for you so that you can get on your way." Vita left the room.

"Louise, if there's nothing else..." Daria stood in the doorway processing the information. Sabina had seen the photos...

"No. I'll be in touch." She paused. "Though maybe if the architect has any questions about the display area..."

"Just give me a call." Daria nodded. "Nice to see you again, Olivia."

"Thanks again, Daria." Olivia waved from the conference table.

"See you, Vita," Daria called as she left the outer office.

"See you, Daria."

"I think there's a problem." The woman stepped into the empty hall, the phone close to her face.

"What's that?"

"Daria McGowan has been asking about the photographs."

"So?"

"She's wondering who might have had access to the photos before they were given to her." She hesitated. "As you know, that's a mighty small pool. I'm sure by now she's figured out that some of the photos are missing. It won't be long before she'll connect the dots."

He was silent.

"And one more thing." She took a deep breath. "She was asking about Harry Dragonis."

"So? So she finds out that he worked as a guard at Howe a long time ago. So what?"

"So how long do you think it will take the FBI to connect me to Dragonis?"

"Well, you want to hope they never do, Priestess." He thought for a moment, then added, "You know, I'm thinking maybe it's time for Daria to meet the G.o.ddess."

"Maybe so." She sighed, knowing it was true. She liked Daria, but knew only trouble would come from her asking too many of the right questions. It was only a matter of time before she shared what she knew with her FBI friend. If she hadn't already...

"About the boy."

"What about him?"

"What if he talks?"

"The boy isn't going to talk." She tried to keep from sounding exasperated. "And even if he does, what's he going to say? 'I'm a gallas in training and the priestess told me what to do?'"

"You're being awfully cavalier."

"Look, the boy doesn't know my name. He's seen me once, at night, in a dark bas.e.m.e.nt. There's no way he can identify me. He has no idea who I am or where to find me."

"You're forgetting about the older brother," he reminded her.

She hesitated for a moment, and she knew he sensed her uncertainty.

"He knows you," he reminded her.

"Of course he does," she snapped. "But he's also a gallas. He'd never betray a high priestess of Ereshkigal."

The man's laugh was hollow and mocking, and her anger flared.

"You just don't get it, do you?" she said. "Unlike someone else I could name, he believes this. His father was a gallas, and his grandfather before him. Since his father died, the responsibility-his family's honor, for G.o.d's sake-has fallen to him. His destiny is to safeguard the priestess, to guard the sacred treasures-"

"Oh, please, I can't listen to any more of this c.r.a.p." He sneered. "No one in this day and age really believes that stuff. It's all bulls.h.i.t."

"To you, it's bulls.h.i.t. To him, it's as much a part of his life as breathing. If you don't understand anything else about this whole deal, understand this." She tried to keep her temper in check. "He believes. He will cut out his own tongue before he'd give me up."

"I hope you're right."

"I know I am." But even as she said it, she wondered if she was placing too much trust in the wrong person.

"Your momma didn't know what she was starting when she fed you all that priestess c.r.a.p." He was mocking her again, and she hated him for it.

"Don't be so disrespectful. My mother was a believer," she insisted.

"Sure she was. That's why she let your father steal all those items."

"She didn't know." She bit her lip.

"Right. She just figured he could afford that big house and a new car every couple of years on a security guard's salary."

"She didn't know," she repeated emphatically.

"Whatever. Look, keep the artifacts we've gotten back hidden, would you please? I have buyers lined up who are willing to pay top dollar. Everything's been spoken for except for two items. Let's not blow this now." He paused. "Where are they, by the way?"

"Under the floorboards in the carriage house," she told him, then immediately regretted it, though she couldn't have said why.

"Don't forget to give me a call if you need me."

"Will do."