Passage to Queen Mesentia Read online

  PASSAGE TO

  QUEEN MESENTIA

  Dorlana Vann

  Pixie Punk Press

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Copyright

  Dedication, Acknowledgements, and Bibliography

  Chapter 1

  Thursday April 14, 2005

  “That was so freaking boring,” Wade Roberts said as he lowered the passenger side window. “Please, don’t ever make me sit through one of those again.” He fought with his tie until he won and then threw it in the backseat.

  “Really?” Lilly said. “I found it fascinating. Would you mind? With the window... we still have dinner.”

  Wade pressed the button, and the window made its way back up. “That’s because they’re your parents: the greatest archaeology team in the whole universe.” Even though he knew Lilly would freeze in her little sundress, he turned on the air conditioner. She had been the one who had insisted he wear the hot, miserable suit in the first place. He knew the reason he’d been the only one Sunday-schooled up at the lecture was because she wanted to impress her parents. That’s what had annoyed him the most about the entire evening.

  “That’s not it,” she said. “I mean, I am proud of them. My goodness, they discovered the tomb of an Egyptian queen who no one even knew existed.”

  “It doesn’t even make sense. This cat Unas...”

  “The last pharaoh of the fifth dynasty.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Why wouldn’t he want anyone to know he had this third wife? It’s not like they had to worry about bigamy. Everyone already knew he had two wives. What’s one more?”

  “Oh, so you were paying attention.”

  He exhaled, causing his lips to putter, and shrugged his shoulders.

  Lilly tucked her long, dark hair behind her ear and her face lit up as she said, “But that’s what makes it so incredible. Don’t you think it’s weird how they found Queen Mesentia’s mummy buried off on its own and not with the other wives? No pyramid or any other indication that there was a tomb, just an underground tunnel.”

  “Uh huh. Hey Baby, stop over there at that fillin’ station so I can grab me a pack of cigs.”

  “Wade, we’ll be late.”

  “Well, call and tell them we’ll be a little late. Unless you want me to pace and be nervous all night.”

  She huffed but pulled off the highway and then into a Texaco station.

  Wade got out of the car and took his time walking inside. No way was he going to hurry. He could see Lilly through the window with the phone up to her ear. Probably saying, “Mommy, I’m so sorry Wade’s such an ass.” Actually, he mused, she would never use the word ass, it would be more like, “He’s such a meanie-wienie,” or some other silly word she had picked up from her 3rd graders.

  Wade climbed back into the car a couple of minutes later, hitting his cigarettes upside down on the palm of his hand, packing the tobacco.

  “I tried them three times,” Lilly said as she drove onto the access road. “I don’t understand why no one answered. Even if they’re upstairs, Constance should answer in the kitchen. ”

  When Wade noticed she had turned the air off, he started rolling the window back down.

  “You’re not going to smoke that now are you?”

  “Uh... yes,” he said with the unlit cigarette already in his lips and his thumb on the lighter.

  “Come on… I don’t want to stink.”

  “What the hell did you think I was going to do with the things? Eat ‘em?”

  The tires squealed as she turned into the next driveway and made an abrupt stop.

  “Get out,” she said.

  “What?” His mouth dropped open, and the cigarette fell to the floorboard.

  “I’ll wait while you take a couple of puffs. All right? And please, take off your jacket.”

  Wade gladly rid himself of the jacket. With the door ajar, he lit the cigarette, inhaling a long satisfying drag.

  “Why aren’t they answering the phone?” Lilly asked, holding the phone up to her ear.

  “We saw them like five seconds ago,” he said, wishing he had a cold beer to go with the nicotine.

  “You know how they hate it when I’m late, and we’re already thirty minutes behind.”

  “Will you stop? It won’t hurt them to wait a couple of minutes.” He squished the fire of the cigarette out with his fingers and put it back inside the pack. He sighed as he sat back down in the passenger seat, hoping she would catch his annoyance so he wouldn’t have to tell her what he really thought of the situation. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Perfection. He didn’t understand why Lilly wasted so much energy on people who would rather be half way across the world digging up bones than near their only daughter. He did hate that they were home, but it would be hard on Lilly to see them go back to Cairo in a month to count, or catalog, or whatever people did with mummies, when she hadn’t seen them in over a year.

  As Lilly sat there, all tight mouthed and mad at him, he remembered what he used to call her when they’d first met: Princess Lilly. How someone as classy as Lillian Steward had fallen for a blue-collar cowboy like him, he would never know. Her parents still didn’t approve of him and probably hoped Lilly would grow out of her rebellious behavior and get back together with Mr. Sophisticated. They especially didn’t like them living together without a piece of paper but didn’t want them to get married either. He couldn’t wait for their reactions when she finally did say yes. He had proposed to Lilly twice, and even though she had shot him down both times, he knew one day she would be his wife.

  As Lilly turned the wheel and pulled into the circular drive that led up to the four-columned two-story, she said, “Answer my father when he talks to you, don’t be bored, and please don’t fall asleep after we eat.”

  “Yes, Miss Steward. I will raise my hand if I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “I wonder why the lights are out.” She turned the ignition off letting the night sounds in.

  “Maybe they got tired of waiting and went on to bed.”

  “They wouldn’t do that,” Lilly said as she stepped out of the car.

  “Sure they wouldn’t,” he responded, right after she had shut the door.

  Wade gathered all the mental strength he could find to face Lilly’s parents before forcing himself out of the car.

  Lilly stood on the front porch and slowly turned towards Wade as he walked up stairs. “Something’s... off,” she said.

  Wade absorbed the same weird vibe. Other than the streetlights filtering in through the huge oak trees, darkness surrounded the house. After a moment of neither one of them moving, he said, “Maybe we were supposed to meet them at a restaurant.”

  “No, Mom said here.” She put her hand on the door knob. The door hadn’t been shut all the way; it silently glided open. After a pause, she looked at Wade with an expression of worry hardening her delicate face.

  “Stay here,” he said.

  Lilly shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  He tried giving her a firm looking at, but still she shook her head.

  “Fine,” he said through his teeth. He walked through the dark entrance with Lilly right behind him, holding onto his shirt. He waited a second for his eyes to focus, and then jumped when the light overhe
ad snapped on. He turned to Lilly, and she shrugged her shoulders, her hand on the switch.

  When Wade got a whiff of dinner, the silence and the darkness of the house didn’t add up. And then Lilly glanced past him. Her brown eyes narrowed but then quickly widened. Wade followed her stare to the destroyed living room area.

  “Mom... Dad?” Lilly ran past him, stopping for a second to examine the living room.

  “Wait! Lilly, don’t!” Wade yelled.

  But Lilly didn’t stop. She ran up the stairs calling her parents’ names, each time her voice a little more panicked. Wade chased after her, but as soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Lilly scream.

  Chapter 2

  Two weeks later: Friday April 29, 2005

  Lilly sipped her glass of pinot grigio as she watched the entrance door. She glanced down at her watch again— 9:30 p.m.—thirty minutes past the time she had practically been commanded to meet with a stranger who had called her that morning on her way to work.

  “Is this Lillian Steward?” he had asked with an accent she couldn’t make out. “The daughter of Doctor Steward?”

  “Yes, umm… who’s calling?”

  “I would like to give you my condolences. Your parents were friends and colleagues of mine.”

  She had figured it was just another, “I’m sorry your parents are dead,” call. She’d had about a billion of them. She wished her parents hadn’t known so many people, because the calls wouldn’t stop. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for calling.”

  She thought that would end the call. However, the man had kept talking, “That’s not all. I need to see you.”

  “Who is this? Do I know you?”

  “My name is Ben. I knew your parents.”

  “You said that. Um, I—”

  “It is very imperative that I speak with you tonight. I was supposed to meet with your parents yesterday so they could return to me a very valuable family heirloom.”

  By that time, Lilly had pulled in and had parked at the elementary school. “I don’t know anything about that. Call the university, and they’ll direct you to the right place.”

  “This isn’t something they would know about. It is personal. Please meet me tonight at The Vine Bistro on Montrose at nine o’clock.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  “Wait... how will I even know you?”

  “I’ll know you.”

  “I’m not sure. Right now isn’t a good time for me,” she had said, but then realized he had already hung up.

  The whole thing had been so strange. “Meet me at the bistro at nine o’ clock,” she nervously mocked and took another sip of her wine. She had spent the entire day trying to make a decision about whether or not she would actually go. She had even thought about calling Wade, but she couldn’t.

  She knew Wade would read way too much into it. She had asked him to move out of their apartment a week before, so she had no right to ask him to do a “boyfriend” favor. Not even a “friend” favor for that matter. Even though they hadn’t officially broken up, she had asked for some room and some time. She didn’t want him to think she’d changed her mind.

  Ever since that night, their relationship had been strained. She wasn’t ready to deal with him. Her feelings and thoughts still intertwined in her head. She did good to get up in the morning and face her 3rd grade class.

  Wade’s dirty-blond hair and his baby blues weren’t enough for her to let him back in. It was like a switch in her head had turned on. A switch that turned on the “What the hell am I doing with this cowboy?” He embarrassed her around her friends and always forgot to take off his muddy boots. When he got home from work he was filthy and smelled like gasoline. He smoked, used bad language, and drank too much.

  Her parents had tried to warn her when she had broken off the engagement to Grant to “explore” her other options… Wade. Her mom had told her that Wade was too rough and would never amount to anything or make a good husband. She didn’t know about all that, but there was no comparison when it came to the proposals. Grant had knelt down on one knee on the rooftop of her favorite restaurant. Wade’s proposal: in his pick-up truck while they had waited on his brother to run in and grab a 6-pack. And that had been at the end of their third date, which they had spent at a honky-tonk.

  True, she’d had a blast, first time country and western dancing, but really? Marriage on the third date with a proposal that had been ridiculous? Of course she had said no. She needed to be romanced a little more than that. However, a couple of days later, she did agree to move in with him.

  She shook her head, trying to release the tension that thinking about Wade always caused.

  And enough waiting on this guy from the phone! She felt like she had given the guy plenty of time to show up. Besides, she’d surprised herself by showing up in the first place. She had let the curiosity of the situation win. She stood up and grabbed her purse off the back of the chair.

  “Ms. Steward?”

  Lilly swung around to face a very large chest. She had to take a step back to see his face.

  “Lillian Steward?” he said, his voice strong with the unfamiliar accent from the phone.

  His appearance gave her a jolt. He was so beautiful and substantial, like one would picture Hercules or Aries. So not what she had been expecting… ever.

  “I’m Ben.” He held out his hand. “I’m very grateful you agreed to meet me.”

  “Of course,” she said as they shook hands. She had to blink her attention away from his dark eyes, only to find herself examining the rest of his face. His skin was porcelain fair, yet his features seemed exotically ethnic. His hair was a stunning contrast of shoulder length black waves.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she blurted. After she realized she hadn’t released his hand, she snapped it back quickly. Her face stung with her sudden embarrassment. Why was she acting like such a school girl?

  He motioned with his head and hand for them to take a seat. After they were seated across from one another, he said, “I beg of you to excuse this intrusion so close after the death of your parents. If it was not of such true importance, I would have never troubled you.”

  “You do have my curiosity stirred. You said they had something that belongs to you?”

  He put his arm on the table and leaned in closer. “When I heard your parents had been murdered, I immediately felt responsible.”

  “What do you mean?” She fidgeted with her wine glass, suddenly regretting her decision to meet him alone. What did she always tell her students? Never talk to...

  “Whoever did this shameful thing to the Stewards sought the Pyramidion Statuette. I had to get it out of Cairo. They kindly smuggled it into the States for me.”

  Lilly sat straight up as she grasped what he’d said. The very idea! “My parents wouldn’t smuggle! They were highly respected archaeologists, not mobsters.”

  “My apologies,” he spoke one beat up from a whisper. “I am not trying to devalue their reputation. They were most honorable and true to their word. I am afraid that a vile man has stolen the statuette.” He shook his head. “That would be a catastrophe. All I want is to see if perhaps—hopefully—it is still among their possessions.”

  She tried her best to stay annoyed, but then Ben touched her hand that held the wine glass. She glanced at their hands and then to him. He caught her eyes in his stare.

  “Lillian, if you would be so good as to look, I would be forever grateful.”

  Becoming slightly mindful of how giddy this man made her feel, she had to force herself to focus on the conversation. She quietly cleared her throat, gently moved her hand from his touch and placed it in her lap. “So you don’t think that they were killed because they interrupted a burglary?”

  “This man will stop at nothing. If you find the statuette and return it to me, he will no longer be interested in you.”

  “What do you mean... no lo
nger?” She forgot all about the awkwardness of the meeting and tried to read his face. “Do you think someone is already ‘interested’ in me?”

  His left eyebrow made a high arch. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a business card. Placing it on the table in front of her, he stood up and said, “I beg of you, call me if you find anything.” He turned, his black trench coat waving behind him, and then as fast as he had arrived, he disappeared.

  Lilly sat there for a few minutes trying to gather her thoughts. What had just happened? While in his presence, her head had gone fuzzy. She had wanted to sit and stare at him. She could have sworn she had felt his aura, like it had been tangible. As she took one big gulp of her wine, finishing off the glass, she realized she had failed to ask what the statuette even looked like.

  As she walked outside, she dug inside her purse for her keys. When she looked up, she saw a man coming out of the shadows. She immediately felt anxious because the man wore a cowboy hat; it was Wade.

  “Hey, Lilly,” he said like they were supposed to meet or something.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, hanging the purse across her chest. “Are you following me?”

  “What? No, I come… here.”

  “Right.” She walked toward her car.

  Wade followed. “I need to talk you.”

  “Not now, Wade. I’m not ready.”

  “What are you doing here, anyway? At this bar? You sure look nice.”

  Even though it was none of his business, she knew she’d better tell him what was going on before he arrived at all the wrong conclusions and got all bent out of shape. “It’s not what you think. I met a man here tonight.”

  His footsteps stopped. “Well, that’s what I thinking.”

  She turned around, getting a little annoyed herself. “Would you listen to me?”

  “I am listening. I’m listening.” He adjusted his cowboy hat. “And I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

  She took a deep breath, not knowing if she could actually say the words. “The man that I met here tonight had information about my parents. He told me… they were murdered because of some statue.”