Buried Secrets by Kristi Belcamino (best ebook reader for surface pro TXT) 📗

“How did you know?” Detective Dunnigan asked her later in his office.

“The King Tut warning.”

“Did anyone he cursed die of poisoning?”

“No.”

“So, how did you know?”

Dallas fingered her ankh on its necklace. “I’m not sure, detective. I’m really not sure.”

“Well, you’re one lucky lady.”

She laughed. She’d never considered herself lucky, but who knows, maybe she was.

Dunnigan had taken her to the station in his car so she called Colton for a ride back to her office. She wanted to tell him what had happened. But also, just wanted to see him outside of the school on a weekday. Plus, she had to admit she was a little shaken up from the cyanide. Who had put it on her desk, and why?

Thinking of Colton made her grin. They had spent weekends together since their return from Egypt but sometimes with their teaching schedules and other university obligations it was tough to find time to see each other during the week.

They’d talked about maybe grabbing dinner tonight, but she hadn’t heard from him.

He picked up right away.

“I’m at the police station, can you come get me?”

“Good God, what happened? I’d heard the police were at the school. It had to do with you? And I was sitting in my office grading papers the whole time? Damn noise canceling headphones!”

“I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

As soon as she crawled into the passenger seat of Colton’s car, she told him what happened.

“Train may be dead. But the Daughters of Isis told me that there are dozens of people involved in this organization. Train wasn’t the head guy. He was just a pawn,” she said. “Obviously, there’s still someone out there who thinks I know something.”

She gave a weary sigh.

“I just wish I knew what I was supposed to know. Or what they think I know. Because I don’t know jack.”

“Right?” Colton said and shook his head. “I don’t get it. You’re not pursuing anything so what’s the point?”

She bit her lip, thinking. “I guess they want to make sure I’m not.”

“Did they?” He asked and opened the car door.

“Did they what?”

“Did they make sure you’re not pursuing anything?”

Now she shrugged.

“Dallas Jones?”

She sighed. “Honestly, Colton. I don’t know. For now, I’m settling in at the university. Later? I don’t know.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey,” she said, craning her neck to look around. “We passed the exit.”

“I was thinking of surprising you by taking you to see the giant snowman in St. Paul.”

Dallas frowned and cocked her head.

“What giant snowman?” she said and then looked around. “Wait. There’s not even snow on the ground.”

Colton laughed. “You’ll see.”

“Um, okay, but only if you buy me hot chocolate. This Arizona girl is cold.”

“Deal.”

They rode for the first few miles in silence and then a Christmas song came on the radio.

“Are you kidding?” Dallas said. “It’s not even Halloween.”

Colton didn’t answer. She looked over at him. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. His gaze was straight ahead. And the muscle in his jaw throbbed.

“Colton?” She reached over and touched his arm. “Something wrong?”

“No,” he grunted.

When he looked over, she saw his cheeks were red.

“What’s going on?”

“My mother wants to know if you can make it to Christmas dinner? I told her you probably already have plans. I know you’re not really into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not?” Dallas said and raised an eyebrow.

Colton looked over with wide eyes. “What?”

“Do you want me to go? I mean your sort of making excuses for me not to.”

“Oh,” he said in a rush. “I do want you to go. I just don’t want you to feel pressured. I mean, you know.”

Dallas reached down between them to the console and picked up Colton’s phone. She dialed and then held it up to his ear.

“Tell her I’d be delighted to come to Christmas. Oh, and ask her what I can bring. I make a mean green bean casserole.”

“You do?”

“Hell yeah.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

When he hung up with his mother, Dallas leaned over and kissed his cheek.

She leaned forward to turn on the radio, fiddling until she found a station that played 1980s alternative music. She rolled down the window and the wind whipped the stray strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail.

“I thought you were cold,” Colton said, laughing.

“Just turn up the heat. I’ll be fine!”

A small part of her deep inside wanted to lean her body halfway out the window and scream at the passing cars—simply whoop with joy.

Because for the first time in her life she didn’t feel alone.

It was a good feeling.

And she wasn’t going to waste one second of it.

Instead of startling Colton by throwing her body half out the window and screaming like a banshee, Dallas settled on cranking up the radio as loud as it could get. Then, she winked at Colton and yanked the ponytail holder out of her hair, rolled down the window, and let the wind whip her hair as the strains of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” blared from the speakers.

“You’re crazy,” Colton said laughing. “It’s freezing!”

But Dallas had never felt warmer in her life.

Twenty-Two

Colton came back to her place and stayed the night.

In the early morning hours, Dallas snuck out of bed and was in her office staring at the piece of paper she’d found in the safety deposit box. The one on which her mother had written a phone number. A number with an Arizona area code.

She was staring at the paper when she felt Colton at her side. He leaned down and massaged her shoulders and kissed her neck.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

She held up a strip of white paper with a phone number written on it. “This was in the safety deposit box. Well, in my father’s notebook actually, but it’s my mom’s writing.”

“And you’ve never called it?”

“I’m going to call it now.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“That way I can make sure the person is home.”

“Okay. But you could probably wait a few hours and still catch them home,” he