Death on Tour - Janice Hamrick [25]
Appalled, I checked the level of her glass. Sure enough, she was halfway through that second gin and tonic and apparently the first one had kicked in.
Alan looked bemused. “Tempting?”
“Oh, come on. She was a first-class pill. You’ve been here the whole trip, don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. The nonstop talking, the snooping, the unending string of complaints about every single thing. I don’t see why we should pretend we liked her just because she’s dead.” Kyla took another sip and another breath. “And I’ll tell you something else…”
I cut her off before she could. “So what are the police going to do?”
He shrugged. “As far as I can tell, they’re here to collect her things from her room and they want to ask us all once more if we saw anything. Mohammad was trying to dissuade them from interrupting our dinner. He seemed to think they’d already covered all that on site.”
“Which they certainly did,” agreed Kyla. “That took forever. I know we didn’t get as much time at Saqqara as we should have.”
And there was more. Kyla gets talkative when she’s drinking. “I imagine they want to keep this as quiet as possible. It’s the last thing the Egyptians need—a tourist murdered at the pyramids. If you want to know what I think,” she went on, merging seamlessly into what I could tell was going to be a long rant.
I was so relieved the police weren’t going to search all our rooms that I didn’t even try to stop her. But if they were here to collect Millie’s things, that meant there was no way I was going to be able to return the bag. I was sure Anni or Achmed the driver searched the bus pretty thoroughly after we got off each day, but maybe I could find a way to stuff it down between a couple of seats. But what if someone saw me? Maybe I should just dump it in the trash somewhere. After all, the items had already been stolen and so were already lost to their owners. But no, that was just being weasely. I suddenly became aware that Kyla and Alan were both staring at me. I could feel my face turning red.
“What in the world are you thinking about?” asked Kyla, grinning. “You look so miserable.”
“Nothing. Well, no, not really. I was just wondering why Millie and not someone else.” I said the first thing that popped into my head.
Alan raised his eyebrows. “That is actually a very good question.”
We stared at each other until Kyla broke the mood.
“Da da dum,” she sang in a deep voice. “Dramatic music, cue camera three.” We now stared at her. “Oh come on. You two are so serious. I’m not heartless, and I admit that it’s terrible and scary and whatever, but the police can handle it, I’m sure. Probably some wacko terrorist or a disgruntled vendor or the curse of the mummy. The point is, it’s over. We’re safe and it’s dinner time and I’m starving. When are we going to eat?”
This last question she called to the group in general, and one of the waiters took note and scurried off. Kyla turned her brilliant blue gaze on Alan and leaned forward ever so slightly. The clingy fabric of her dress succumbed to gravity in a most provocative way.
“So how did you end up on this tour alone, Alan?” she asked.
And there it was. What I’d been wondering for two days, speculating a variety of increasingly unlikely scenarios, and trying to figure out how I could find out, and Kyla just asked.
He hesitated, then shrugged. “I was supposed to be here with my wife,” he said quietly. “We made the reservations for this tour almost a year ago. She always loved having something to look forward to. But she died in a car crash six months ago.” He stopped for a moment, looking down at his hands. “By the time I remembered the trip at all, it was really too late to cancel, and I had some time on my hands. I just figured I’d do this one last thing we’d planned.”
Kyla gently laid her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
He put his hand over hers. “Not at all.”
The moment lasted only a