Death on Tour - Janice Hamrick [36]
“We could probably both use some alone time,” she said. Her tone was reasonable even if her teeth were clenched. “I’m going down to this market and see if I can find a cold Coke, since I can’t get anything better. Why don’t you enjoy nature for a while and I’ll see you later.”
She turned on her heel and stalked off without giving me a chance to answer.
This, too, was typical of her. She got into a mood and turned into Bitchzilla for a while, but sooner or later the evil spell wore off and she returned to her sarcastic, bossy, lovable self. It wasn’t much fun for those of us who retained our human form full-time. And just when I thought I was used to her moods, she could still say something to infuriate me.
I started walking, mostly to have something to do. The path closest to the western shore provided a marvelous view of both water and sand. The far bank rose sharply from a scrubby line of trees in a forbidding bank of undulating dunes, giving way to the rocky outcropping that housed the Tombs of the Nobles. From this distance, the tombs, a series of small doorways carved right into the stone, looked more like a mysterious and primitive village than the resting place of the lords of Egypt. Steep rock staircases led from the doors right to river’s edge. I started wandering slowly along the path, taking pictures of plants to my left and dunes to my right. I glanced at my watch occasionally. Sticking to a schedule was another of the small drawbacks that went with being part of a tour group.
A group of school children came running down the path, laughing and shouting. I smiled at them and turned down another path leading to the center of the island. I like kids in general, but I made it a policy to avoid roving feral packs of them.
As I reached the main path that ran down the center of the island, I saw Kyla talking with Alan. She was curling a strand of her dark hair around a finger and smiling that brilliant smile up into his face. I couldn’t see his expression, but he wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t been dazzled. In fact, the only surprising thing was the sharp pang of jealousy that stabbed through me. What did I care if Kyla flirted with some guy on our tour, a guy we would never see again after next Sunday? Yes, he was nice looking, but so what? I knew dozens of nice-looking guys. Well, half a dozen. Okay, three. And they were married. But, again, so what? I decided to slip down a side path before they could spot me, but I was too late.
“Jocelyn,” called Alan and smiled, and I had no choice but to join them.
Kyla was shooting daggers at me to go away, but I ignored her and held up my camera. “Let me get your picture.”
Alan smiled and stood straight, while she leaned into him in what I considered a most suggestive way. I snapped the picture.
“We were just heading toward the market to get something to drink,” said Kyla.
“Yes, do you want to join us?” asked Alan.
I could see how enthusiastic Kyla was about that idea. I almost said yes just to annoy her, but decided there was no point. I had never been able to compete with her and any pathetic attempts on my part now would just embarrass me and amuse her. No … that wasn’t fair. Kyla might be in full bitch mode at the moment, but she loved me and wouldn’t have intentionally gone after someone that she knew I wanted, not again. I probably didn’t want him anyway, I told myself sternly.
Realizing they were waiting for me to answer, I said quickly, “No, you all go ahead. I’m going to take some pictures on the Aswan side.”
“We’ll walk with you,” said Alan pleasantly.
“No, really, that’s okay,” I said.
“But I want to go sit down,” said Kyla at the same time.
“I’ll catch up with you,” I promised.
“No problem. This is on the way,” he said. And the three of us walked on together.
Being a man, Alan was probably completely unaware that the warmth of the afternoon had just been replaced by a subarctic front. Kyla was refusing to look at me, her lips pressed into a thin little line. I wanted