Trove (The Katie Walsh Mysteries) (15 page)

Eric laughed. “Lassie, that is not nice,” he replied after he stopped laughing. “I can’t help but wonder if you would be any nicer to him if he wasn’t a digger.”

“I’m sorry,” she said between snickers, “but my bad attitude regarding archaeologists has rubbed off on you. You’re now calling them by my pet name.”

Eric’s frown returned. “All joking aside, do you really think he’s after our work?”

Katie thought for a moment and then looked at Eric’s worried face. “For the time being I have to assume he is. I don’t think we know the whole story behind Alec MacGowan and his well-timed appearance, though I did verify that he does hold a doctorate in archaeology focusing on Celtic and Nordic societies in the British Isles. It just bothers me on several levels that Robert never bothered to mention he had a brother. I really need to ask him about that.”

“Could his not telling you have anything to do with your general disdain for archaeologists?” Eric asked.

Maybe Robert didn’t tell her because she knew he wanted to be more than friends and she wasn’t interested in him that way. Perhaps he worried that if he told her about Alec, she would have found Alec more attractive. Katie could believe that of Robert. He was a nice man, but he was rather shy around women. She doubted Alec ever lacked for female companionship. She peered into the webcam and said, “Not enough to hide a brother’s existence from his best friend. Would you do that to me?”

He sighed. “Nae, I wouldn’t. I guess I understand your distrust.”

“Good. Now let’s move on and review the latest status. I’ll go first.” As she was about to start, the doorbell rang. The building had twenty-four hour security, so it had to be someone who lived there. “Hold on, Eric, must be one of my neighbors, though it is an odd hour.”

She opened the door and there Alec stood in all his male glory. She looked him up and down and swallowed hard. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, bow tie draped casually around his neck. His shirt was unbuttoned a third of the way down his taut torso. His chest, at least what she could see, was covered in the hair she wound her fingers through that night. Her fingers flexed with the desire to bury themselves in that lush carpet. She could almost feel the downy soft fur beneath her fingertips. Her nose twitched and she inhaled involuntarily while the heat rose on her face. His scent was intoxicating, a wonderful rich mix of sandalwood, spice, and… and cigars. She looked down and saw the final few inches of one glowing between his fingers. She rested her hand on her hip. “This is a non-smoking building. You need to put that out now.”

He brushed past her and into her condo. “Got an ashtray handy, KitKat?”

She inhaled and straightened her spine. “No. And do… not… call… me… that… again. Now leave and take that cigar with you. I don’t want to smell like one. It’s probably already stinking up my hair.”

“Let me check,” Alec said as he leaned down and buried his face in her hair. “I smell lavender, I think, and just a hint of cigar.” He chuckled. “Sorry, Katie, too late. Besides, I got your message. Figured it was important or were you just seeing if I was on a date?”

“You’re drunk. Go home. I’ll call you a cab. You shouldn’t be driving.” She picked up the phone. “What’s the address?”

“Three doors down.”

“I didn’t ask what your favorite country song was. I asked you where do you
live
.”

“And I told you, Katie, three doors down. I leased the condo down the hall. It’s three doors down from you.”

“What?”

“I leased the condo—”

She cut him off. “I heard you the first time. I just can’t believe what I heard.”

He grinned. “Come down the hall and I’ll give you a tour, especially the bedroom.”

She ignored his offer but he didn’t ignore the heat spreading across and darkening her face.

“Why, Katie, is it hot in here or is it just you?”

She just glared at him and hated herself as she felt her face flame hotter.

“Put that stinking cigar out now or I’ll put it where the sun don’t shine. And I’ll give you a hint, you’ll feel the burn.”

He laughed and headed for the kitchen. She rushed to keep up.

“Don’t put that stink in my sink. Take it home and stink up your own abode.”

Alec reached over, turned on the faucet, and stuck the cigar under the running water. As a final measure, he ground the cigar in her sink to make sure it was out.

She looked down at the stain in her previously spotless sink. “You pig. Clean that up right now.” She reached under the sink and pulled out the cleanser. “Start scrubbing, mister.”

He tilted his head slightly, looked down at her, and followed her pointing finger to the mess he created in her sink. He exhaled audibly and grabbed a paper towel off the roll hanging under the cabinet. With the cigar in one hand and the paper towel in the other, he did the only thing he could think of before he took the cleanser from her hand. He turned the hand that was pointing to the sink palm up. Before she realized what he was doing, he deposited the wet, soggy, smelly remains of the cigar in her upturned hand. Her eyes blazed as he stepped back, leaning his torso out of her immediate reach.

“You insufferable bastard. You did that deliberately,” she seethed.

He should have remained silent. He didn’t. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do with it.”

“So you thought that the best solution would be to put that disgusting thing in my hand.”

“Yes,” he replied sheepishly, a contrite grin spreading across the lower half of his face.

She dropped the cleanser in the sink. “Well, guess what, geni-ass. That was the absolute wrong thing to do.” She took a step toward him, reached up and pulled on his open shirt with her now free hand. With the other hand she took the cigar and smashed it onto his chest, determined to smear it across those luxurious hairs, trying to coat each one with the stink. Her final act was to drop the remains down his shirt and pat it with a resounding smack where it stopped at his cummerbund. The dark brown stain spread outwards quickly. She stepped backed and smiled, pleased with her artwork.

Alec looked down and saw what appeared to be a brown Rorschach blot spread across his shirt. He raised his head and glared down at her. “Dammit, Katie. This silk shirt cost me two hundred dollars.”

She laughed and shrugged her shoulders slightly. “So?”

“So… so, you need to replace it.”

“When hell freezes over. Now go home.”

“Not until you pay me for my shirt.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m paying for that. Besides, I don’t walk around with that amount of cash on me.”

“Then I’ll take payment in kind.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means this, KitKat,” he growled as he wrapped one arm around her waist, pinning her against him. With his free hand he raised her chin, bent his head, and locked on her lips like a heat-seeking missile.

Katie pushed against his chest, wriggled her torso, and tried to free herself from his embrace. He pulled her closer, held her tighter, while his lips coaxed hers into submission. She tasted the cigar and whiskey, inhaled his scent. It was heady, overpowering her senses and her sensibility. Again the memories of his touch came roaring into her head and heated her body. He
folded her body into his, sliding his hand down her back to cup her backside and pull it tight into his body. She moaned and thrust her breasts against him. Slowly, he released his hold on her as she pulled hungrily on his lower lip with her teeth, sucking on the fullness of it. He pulled back and gazed down into her slightly dazed eyes.

“Mm, consider that a down payment. I’ll collect the rest on the installment plan.”

She shook herself out of her fog and jumped back. His head was tilted slightly and he was grinning. She was going to wipe that smug look right off his face. She raised her hand and then connected her palm with his cheek with a resounding slap. “How dare you?”

“Why, you little wildcat,” he said as he rubbed his face where she could clearly see her hand imprint appearing as if by magic.

“Get out of here now or so help me...”

“Don’t make idle threats, Katie,” he said, his voice dropping to a deep, low tone.

“I
never
make idle threats. So help me if you don’t leave, I’ll file sexual harassment charges against you. In case you forgot, Dr. MacGowan, as you so demonstrably showed me earlier when you expelled me, you are my boss and I am your employee.”

Katie watched as he straightened and towered over her. “You wouldn’t dare. You liked it as much as I did, otherwise you wouldn’t have responded like you did. Besides, it would be your word against mine and it would only serve to start the rumor mill spinning.”

“Actually, it would be Katie’s and my word against yours.”

Alec whirled around. “Who the hell is that? Is there someone here?”

“It’s Eric Murray and I heard every word. So I suggest you do as Katie asks and leave.”

“Murray? Where the hell are you?” Alec asked, clearly confused.

Katie pointed to her laptop on the table. “He’s on the webcam. We were having a conference call when you interrupted us.”

He grabbed the laptop screen and turned it towards him. He bent down and looked at Eric. “
Son of a bitch
. Would you look at that?” In an instant he powered off the laptop.

She shook her head. A smug grin spread across her mouth as she crossed her arms. “Won’t do you any good. The whole thing was recorded on my laptop and Eric’s. We do that as part of the documentation process.”

She walked to the front door, opened it, and gestured for him to leave.

He strode past her and exited without a word, leaving only his scent wafting through the air. She took a deep breath, telling herself she was only trying to calm her nerves. His touch was like an electrical charge disgorged from a raging storm. She could feel the aftershocks firing through her body. “How am I going to survive this, him? One more episode like that and I’ll be begging him to take me. And that is wrong on so many levels. What the hell is wrong with me? Is it because it’s been so long? Or is it because he makes me feel alive?”

She powered up her laptop and reconnected with Eric.

“Katie, are you all right? Did he leave?”

“I’m fine, Eric. He left without any further discussion.”

“I’m beginning to understand all your paranoia. That was really odd.”

Part of her wanted to ask why it was odd. He was an attractive man and she knew she wasn’t Medusa, so why was it odd that he might find her attractive? But thinking it and saying it out loud would only drag her thoughts down a path she wasn’t ready to travel, at least not yet. If she did, she would have to deal with her response to his kiss. She didn’t want it to stop, even though he was keeping secrets

“Katie? Katie, can you hear me?” Eric called as he rapped on his computer screen.

Katie leaned forward. “Um, sorry, yes, Eric. The voice cut out for a moment,” she lied. “What were you saying?”
Concentrate, Katie, concentrate.

“Lass, I was saying that I am sending you an encrypted file with my work notes from yesterday. Why don’t you read them and call me back tomorrow?” He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for the first time since the conversation began.

“I’ll try, Eric. I’m travelling tomorrow to Willowton. If it’s late, I’ll call you on Thursday,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Aye. I’ll be available.”

“Eric, do you think you can take a look at some symbols for me?”

He frowned. “Aye, though you’re the queen of symbols. If you can’t decipher them, why send them to me?”

She glanced at the dossier and then back to Eric. “These aren’t runes, though they’re included in a file with runes. I just want a fresh, unbiased look at the odd symbols. Maybe you’ve seen them somewhere or maybe you can figure out what they might be.”

He grinned. “Send them and I’ll take a look.”

She smiled back. “Thanks, Eric.”

Katie ended the webcam session and spent the next several hours reviewing Eric’s notes. She was quite happy with his latest conclusions. He had successfully validated the time variable functionality that she’d suggested. Now it was possible to enter a time, up to twenty thousand years ago and watch a time-lapse animation of geologic changes for specified latitude and longitude coordinates.

On Monday, she would initiate the next phase, which would mean using satellite photos of specific coordinates and running the overlay program. This, fingers crossed, would allow them to identify human settlements and migrations over a certain period of time. The final phase would be to somehow cull the basis of various Celtic & Nordic myths and then attempt to marry the details with the overlay data to determine where they originated, when they originated, and just what the ancient people were trying to relay. She would unite the ancient myths with modern technology and prove once and for all her theory that these myths were true, though perhaps not in the way they were now interpreted.

She emailed Alec and asked him about the runes, since they never got around to it earlier. She was surprised at his quick response. She figured he’d be passed out. His answer was brief. “We’ll discuss soon.”