Tempest Court. Jan Walters

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СКАЧАТЬ course, we did. In the movie, the mummy, Imhotep, was discovered in 1921. Imhotep was mummified alive for attempting to resurrect his forbidden lover. The mummy came back to life and started killing people. Karloff played the mummy so convincingly nightmares haunted me for months.”

      “I didn’t know…” Brett burst out laughing. “How can you be afraid of a mummy? You’re a ghost. You can disappear before the mummy gets you.” Brett stretched out an arm and slowly walked toward Michael, moaning as he moved.

      Michael punched him in the arm. “Ha ha. Very funny,” he replied deadpan.

      “The good news is that Imhotep is not the mummy at the Art Center.” Brett chuckled.

      Michael puffed out his chest as his eyes narrowed. “Laugh now. I’m sure there is something that gives you the heebie-jeebies.”

      “You’re right. Several things scare the shit out of me, and you’ve seen them.”

      Michael smirked. “Yeah, just remember, karma’s a bitch.”

      Lisa walked into the room, pausing when she saw Michael. “Michael! I didn’t know you were here.”

      Michael walked over and hugged Lisa. “Just wanted to check on you two. Brett’s been harassing me since I got here.”

      Lisa swung toward Brett and winked. “Quit picking on poor Michael?”

      Michael’s lips curled upward. “Geez, you make me sound like a sissy.”

      “Hey, man, if the shoe fits, wear it.” Brett grabbed Lisa’s hand and wrapped her in his arms.

      Michael adjusted his hat on his head. “Okay. I know when I’m not wanted. Catch you later.”

      With that, Michael disappeared. Brett closed his eyes and sighed.

      “What’s wrong?” asked Lisa.

      “Michael is scared of mummies.”

      Lisa’s eyes widened. “Really? I don’t… Never mind. Hey, before I forget, the exhibit opens tomorrow night. I told Layla that we’d be there.”

      “No problem. I’m anxious to see the mummy.”

      As Lisa turned toward the bedroom, she paused, pointing toward the table. “Hey, my rug came! What’s it doing here on the table? How come you didn’t wait for me to open the package?”

      “Slow down. Hold your horses! Michael had never seen a $300 rug before and wanted to take a peek. I was about to spread it…”

      “Oh, I think right here,” Lisa interrupted, pointing to the bare floor under the coffee table, “would be the perfect spot. Don’t you think?”

      “Wait a minute! Before we go spreading this thing out, you need to see this. It rolled out as I was getting ready to unfold it.” Brett handed her the strange vase.

      Lisa turned it from side to side. “What is it?”

      “That’s what Michael and I were trying to decide.”

      “It kind of looks like a vase, but the lid on top is throwing me. If we had been in Egypt, then it might be one of those jars, you know, the ones that body parts were stored in for burial. Since we were in Morocco, I don’t have a clue what it is.”

      Brett shrugged. “Maybe it’s something that they used to store herbs in.”

      “That’s a possibility.” Lisa brightened. “Do you think we should call Hassan and tell him that it was in our rug? I’m sure it accidentally got put in our package.”

      Brett didn’t know about any “accident,” but calling Hassan was definitely a good idea.

      “I’m putting it away before something happens to it.” Lisa turned and, grabbing a kitchen towel, wrapped the vase. “I’ll store it in our closet until Hassan verifies that he sent it to us.

      “Uh, maybe we should…”

      With fire in her eyes, Lisa stood with her hands on her hips. “I know that look, O’Shea. We should do what?”

      “I don’t know.” He glared at the vase. “Don’t you think it’s weird that some antique vase was included in our package? I don’t think it was a mistake.”

      “You’re starting to sound crazy. Maybe Hassan gave it to us because we paid so much for the rug.” Her narrowed gaze pierced through him. “Or it’s just a gift.”

      “Maybe.” Brett nodded but he couldn’t help wondering what she would do if he “accidentally” dropped the vase and broke it.

      Miffed because of Brett’s paranoia, Lisa abruptly turned and walked away. “I’ll deal with all of this in the morning. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up late.”

      Brett frowned as he headed to the bedroom. He watched as Lisa set the vase on the floor in the back of the closet. She quickly changed and climbed into bed. He stood silently, staring at the closed closet door. He didn’t want the thing in their bedroom. Something was off, and he couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong. He was lifting his hand to open the closet door when Lisa’s voice echoed behind him.

      “What are you doing?” She glared at him.

      Eyes wide, Brett turned and met her hard stare. “Nothing. And quit scaring me like that. I was going to look at the vase again.”

      Lisa moaned and pulled up the covers. “Leave it alone, Brett. I think it’s very pretty. Just let it go, would you? I’m hoping it’s a gift from Hassan because I’d like to keep it.”

      He bit his lip to keep from saying something he’d regret. Lisa was growing more attached to the vase by the minute. He rubbed his sleep-laden eyes. He’d think about what to do tomorrow—after he called Hassan.

      Later that night, Brett woke from a deep sleep. He lay there in the dark, listening. Nothing but silence greeted his ears. What had awakened him? Maybe a bad dream? A car backfiring? He tossed the covers aside and went to get a drink of water. He walked past the closet and pushed the door shut. He could have sworn that he had closed the door before he went to bed.

      Returning to bed, he pulled up the covers and rested an arm over Lisa’s hip, pulling her closer.

      * * * * *

      Brett fell instantly asleep, oblivious to the faint sounds from the farthest corner of the closet. The closet door vibrated for several minutes. The latch gave way, causing the door to inch open. Silence again filled the house.

      Chapter 8

      Brett arrived to roll call just as Donnellson entered the room.

      Donnellson nodded. “You’re running late too, I see.”

      “Damn alarm clock. What’s your excuse?”

      “Sleepover.” Donnellson grinned and turned to find a chair.

      Sleepover? СКАЧАТЬ