of arrowheads. Another box of potsherds. Stone tools. The next row of shelves produced more of the same.
Still nothing.
Frustrated, he threw a tattered Navajo blanket aside. It collapsed upon another shelf, spilling a container of glass beads which scattered across the tile floor with alarming commotion. He hesitated. Listened.
But there was nothing.
He tugged at another box whose weight unsettled a buffalo skull which crashed at his feet. There were boxes of decaying leather and other pieces of junk he couldn’t identify. He found a badly rusted revolver, a few Civil War relics and boxes of various animal bones.
He’d completely uprooted an entire row of artifacts when it occurred to him that the effigy wouldn’t be stored with worthless, dusty trinkets openly available to students. There could only be one logical place holding the effigy—the one place the magazine intentionally diverted from public attention—the museum.
He cursed his stupidity as he stormed toward the storage room door, his feet crunching over beads and buffalo teeth. He kicked a casting of a Neanderthal skull out of his way.
And then he saw it: a shiny, black, aluminum storage container. This was no ordinary box. It was special, intended to protect something special.
He lifted the lid and peered inside.
* * * *
“I’ll help you close up the lab,” Dr. Peet said as he lifted his jacket from the hook behind his office door.
“So you’ll talk to Dr. Snead about excavating The Trader?” Lori asked, rising from her chair. A glimmer of hope slipped through her veins. Maybe between the two of them they could convince the dean of the necessity to continue their dig.
Dr. Peet shrugged into his jacket and retrieved his keys from the pocket. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee he’ll go for it. He’s too afraid of the publicity.”
He ushered her into the hallway. “Besides,” he said. “Sounds like Snead’s satisfied with the conclusions already made about the effigy.”
“But you’re not, are you?”
He flashed her a wink as he locked his office door. “I believe we need to find the story behind the find.”
Dr. Peet grinned as he so often did when he coached his students, and Lori liked his smile. He looked years younger and when Dr. Peet grinned he was no longer the instructor leading the way, but a partner aiding in research.
As they started down the hall, the renewed possibility of excavating The Trader had Lori’s thoughts flowing as lively as the hem of her lab coat flailing about her legs. They rounded the corner where the hallway stretched toward the darkened front entrance. About midway down the corridor the dim light slipping from the laboratory shifted with the opening of the door.
Lori froze in her tracks. Judging by Dr. Peet’s similar reaction, he’d seen the movement too. Then, a shadow crept into the hallway and proceeded away toward the entrance, apparently unaware of them standing there in the darkness.
“Were you working with someone?” Dr. Peet asked in a low voice.
Lori’s heart skipped a beat. “No.”
They watched in stunned silence as the shadow slipped out of the building. The sound of the glass doors clicking shut echoed through the hall.
“Now, I know I locked those doors when we came in,” Dr. Peet said.
“Oh, God!”
Lori sprinted to the lab with Dr. Peet close behind. They burst into the room, now glowing from the light spilling out of storage. There came a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as they raced for the open door.
Lori stopped against the doorframe. “Oh my God!” she gasped.
Stunned, Dr. Peet shuffled into a slew of artifacts that had been flung from the shelves. He surveyed the destruction in utter speechlessness. Lori’s attention swept to the shelf where she’d left the effigy. The black aluminum container lay askew, the lid hanging wide open.
“The effigy!”
She spun around and raced out of the lab with Dr. Peet calling after her. His voice
Still nothing.
Frustrated, he threw a tattered Navajo blanket aside. It collapsed upon another shelf, spilling a container of glass beads which scattered across the tile floor with alarming commotion. He hesitated. Listened.
But there was nothing.
He tugged at another box whose weight unsettled a buffalo skull which crashed at his feet. There were boxes of decaying leather and other pieces of junk he couldn’t identify. He found a badly rusted revolver, a few Civil War relics and boxes of various animal bones.
He’d completely uprooted an entire row of artifacts when it occurred to him that the effigy wouldn’t be stored with worthless, dusty trinkets openly available to students. There could only be one logical place holding the effigy—the one place the magazine intentionally diverted from public attention—the museum.
He cursed his stupidity as he stormed toward the storage room door, his feet crunching over beads and buffalo teeth. He kicked a casting of a Neanderthal skull out of his way.
And then he saw it: a shiny, black, aluminum storage container. This was no ordinary box. It was special, intended to protect something special.
He lifted the lid and peered inside.
* * * *
“I’ll help you close up the lab,” Dr. Peet said as he lifted his jacket from the hook behind his office door.
“So you’ll talk to Dr. Snead about excavating The Trader?” Lori asked, rising from her chair. A glimmer of hope slipped through her veins. Maybe between the two of them they could convince the dean of the necessity to continue their dig.
Dr. Peet shrugged into his jacket and retrieved his keys from the pocket. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee he’ll go for it. He’s too afraid of the publicity.”
He ushered her into the hallway. “Besides,” he said. “Sounds like Snead’s satisfied with the conclusions already made about the effigy.”
“But you’re not, are you?”
He flashed her a wink as he locked his office door. “I believe we need to find the story behind the find.”
Dr. Peet grinned as he so often did when he coached his students, and Lori liked his smile. He looked years younger and when Dr. Peet grinned he was no longer the instructor leading the way, but a partner aiding in research.
As they started down the hall, the renewed possibility of excavating The Trader had Lori’s thoughts flowing as lively as the hem of her lab coat flailing about her legs. They rounded the corner where the hallway stretched toward the darkened front entrance. About midway down the corridor the dim light slipping from the laboratory shifted with the opening of the door.
Lori froze in her tracks. Judging by Dr. Peet’s similar reaction, he’d seen the movement too. Then, a shadow crept into the hallway and proceeded away toward the entrance, apparently unaware of them standing there in the darkness.
“Were you working with someone?” Dr. Peet asked in a low voice.
Lori’s heart skipped a beat. “No.”
They watched in stunned silence as the shadow slipped out of the building. The sound of the glass doors clicking shut echoed through the hall.
“Now, I know I locked those doors when we came in,” Dr. Peet said.
“Oh, God!”
Lori sprinted to the lab with Dr. Peet close behind. They burst into the room, now glowing from the light spilling out of storage. There came a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as they raced for the open door.
Lori stopped against the doorframe. “Oh my God!” she gasped.
Stunned, Dr. Peet shuffled into a slew of artifacts that had been flung from the shelves. He surveyed the destruction in utter speechlessness. Lori’s attention swept to the shelf where she’d left the effigy. The black aluminum container lay askew, the lid hanging wide open.
“The effigy!”
She spun around and raced out of the lab with Dr. Peet calling after her. His voice
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