Death on Tour - Janice Hamrick [59]
“Good one,” I admitted to her, as she burst out laughing.
It is a sad truth that repetition dulls appreciation. What had been mesmerizing at Giza, fascinating at Aswan, and interesting at Abu Simbel had finally become monotonous at Edfu. The huge walls, covered by magnificent carvings that we had never seen before, seemed disconcertingly familiar. The height and the massive weight of the rocks were old hat. Entering a courtyard, we did perk up a bit at the black stone statue of Horus, the falcon god, wearing the crown of Egypt. Not large by Egyptian standards, it stood only six or eight feet tall, but we had seen nothing like it before, and it presented a good photo opportunity. We took turns standing in front of it, obligingly handing cameras back and forth to get pictures.
Alan joined us, speaking to me for the first time since Abu Simbel. “Here, give me your cameras and I’ll take the two of you,” he offered.
Well, it wasn’t romantic, but at least it was something. And we didn’t have many pictures with the two of us, so we handed over the cameras and posed. After making the obligatory rabbit ears behind my head and posing for two snaps, Kyla bounced forward and claimed the cameras.
“Now you stand there with Jocelyn,” she ordered.
Alan obligingly traded places with her. Kyla took a step back as if she was having trouble getting us both in the picture. “Move a little closer together,” she called.
We each took a step at the same time and bumped together. Alan laughed and threw his arm around my shoulders, and Kyla snapped the picture. For one second I leaned my head against his shoulder. And then I caught myself and stepped away smoothly with a smile and a word of thanks. Was it my imagination or did he seem just a little disappointed? I knew I was. I could still feel the pressure of his arm on mine.
He looked as though he were about to say something, when Charlie de Vance made a kind of hooting noise like an owl caught in a blender. “Yoohoo! Mr. Stratton. Alan! You remember how to work our camera. Would you mind?”
Alan gave me an amused glance under his lashes and then turned with a smile to help.
Kyla and I walked on. When we were a few paces away, I turned on Kyla indignantly. “What was that about? Making me take pictures with him?” I asked under my breath.
“Oh come on, you have the hots for him so bad. You needed a souvenir of the hot guy who got away.”
“What makes you think he’s going to get away?” I asked indignantly. “And anyway, I do not have the hots for him. I told you before, I don’t trust him. I think he’s up to something.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. He’s some crazed psycho killer. Well, here’s photographic evidence.”
She pointed her little Canon over my shoulder and snapped.
I turned my head and saw Alan bending over to retrieve Yvonne’s bag for her.
Kyla grinned. “Now you have a picture of his heinie, too. We have him coming and going.” She giggled to herself on and off for the next five minutes. She has a truly unfortunate habit of cracking herself up.
I didn’t think Alan could have seen her snap the picture of his backside, but he did not rejoin us. Oddly, he trailed after Ben, Lydia, and Jane almost the whole time, sometimes chatting with them, sometimes just loitering nearby. He couldn’t be interested in Jane, I told myself. She’s way too young for him and so scrawny. I considered her, following listlessly behind her aunt and uncle, dark glasses hiding the even darker circles under her eyes, and I thought again of the vivacious, laughing girl I’d seen with the Carpenters in the airport. And this girl’s terror at Abu Simbel. Surely that had been excessive, even for a nervous invalid, if that was what she was. I did not know what to make of it.
I caught up with Dawn and Keith Kim along the high wall where Anni was pointing out the carvings of crocodiles.
“Before the Aswan dam was built, many crocodiles lived along the banks of the Nile, all the way to Cairo and beyond to Alexandria. But after the dam was finished,