Death on Tour - Janice Hamrick [48]
“I’m heading out. I’ll catch up with you back at the market.”
He vanished into the bright light of the doorway without giving me a chance to reply. Suddenly, all the pleasure was sucked out of the day. Without Alan or Kyla to share the experience, it all seemed fairly flat. Worse, I could not help but suspect Alan had left to follow Kyla. Maybe that was just a coincidence. After all, he hadn’t left with her. But I was pretty sure he had his eye on her. I just wasn’t sure what that meant.
I waited in the cool dim interior of the temple, no longer really taking in the wonders around me. Realizing I was alone, I walked back into the bright sunlight, trying to decide what to do. I could go back to the first temple, but everything was becoming very crowded, and I’d really seen it all. Without meaning to, I caught up with the Carpenters on their way back to the little market. Jane was silent and strained, but Ben and Lydia seemed happily content, and we all agreed that Abu Simbel was competely worth the journey and expense.
“It’s hard to believe this was all built by hand. Stones carried hundreds of miles. Paints and workers dragged here from God knows where. I wonder why they did it,” mused Lydia.
“Obsession with death, I expect. And self-obsession. They wanted to be sure they left their mark,” said Ben.
“Not the pharaohs,” she said. “The workers.”
“Well, it was a job, wasn’t it? They were probably glad of the work. This would be a hard country to scratch a living in. A cushy stone-hauling job, now that was probably a plum.”
We laughed, trying to envision those times when stone-hauling might actually have been a great career.
Most of the group was already in the market when we arrived. Kyla lingered by a rack of postcards just a moment too long and was beseiged by two salesmen in white tunics. Farther down, I saw Flora and Fiona leaving another shop, clutching a small plastic bag. Just outside the open-air restaurant, DJ, Nimmi, and Anni were discussing the merits of our group photos with our photographer. Not that I was really looking, but Alan was nowhere to be seen.
“I see ice cream!” said Lydia, spotting a child with a cone. We snapped to attention like beagles spotting a hamster.
The restaurant was open on three sides, wooden columns supporting a flimsy roof designed to provide shade rather than protection from the elements. A counter ran along one side in front of refrigerated displays containing a variety of sodas, snacks, and ice creams. A couple of ceiling fans spun lazily from beams.
“Wonder if they have beer?” asked Ben. “Come on, Jane, Jocelyn. Let’s get something cold to drink.”
Jane, Lydia, and I went directly to a pretty corner of the room where chairs with brightly colored cushions clustered around a low table. We sank down gratefully, while Ben went to find drinks. Fascinating as monuments are, standing and walking unnaturally slowly are hard on the feet and back. Jane removed her sunglasses and settled back in her seat with a sigh. Although still wan, she seemed less nervous somehow, almost relaxed. Her aunt noticed too and patted her arm.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” she said. Jane answered with a gentle smile.
“You know,” I said as casually as possible, “I was at the airport when you were. I saw a girl standing by you who looked so much like one of my students. At the time I thought she was your daughter, but she must have been just someone you met on the plane?”
Lydia stiffened visibly. “I expect so. Are you sure it wasn’t Jane?”
“No, I’m sure,” I said. “Although she did resemble Jane quite a bit. She even had a sweater exactly like the one you are wearing now.” I didn’t know why I couldn’t let it go. It wasn’t as though I really thought that Ben and Lydia were doing anything illegal, and it certainly wasn’t any of my business. It was just a puzzle, and I wanted to figure it out.
Jane threw an anxious glance at Lydia.
Ben returned with four Cokes, starting to complain about the lack of alcoholic