Restless Soul - Alex Archer [57]
15
She raced to the small building, nearly bowling over a hunchbacked man who was trundling by with a bundle of soggy reeds.
“Lu!”
He was snoring gently, still propped up against the wall, a thin line of drool spilling over his lower lip and ending in a half-dollar-size wet spot on his borrowed shirt.
“Lu.” She knelt by him, gently jostling him. “Lu, wake up. Enough tranquilizer to take out an ox, huh? Wonderful.”
He mumbled something and kept snoring.
“Do you have my camera?” She’d just thought of it, praying that it hadn’t been washed in her clothes. Plastic bag or no, it would be ruined, and all the pictures of the caves, treasure and skull bowl would be lost. She patted the bulging pockets of his trousers, finding it on the second try by its boxy shape. She unsnapped the pocket and pulled it out. “Thank God.” It was still in the plastic bag and looked dry. She patted at more of his pockets, finding his camera and some extra batteries, the latter of which she palmed. Her own borrowed clothes did not have pockets, and so she would have to find some sort of pack or bag. She’d ask Doc to borrow something, and maybe get someone to pack her a lunch, too.
“Lu.” She patted down all his pockets, though she couldn’t say why she did this. Then she opened one, and then another, cursing when she discovered ancient gold coins and necklaces, one of which had a large sapphire dangling from it and that she remembered had hung around the neck of a Buddha statue. She rocked back on her heels, replaced the treasures in his pockets and snapped them closed. “Damn it, Lu. That’s stealing. You’re an archaeologist. A good one, I thought.”
She shook her head, so disappointed with this man she thought she might eventually fall in love with. When had he taken these things? A fortune! He was the last to climb the rope ladder out of the cavern, and so he could have grabbed the treasures while she and Zakkarat were climbing. She’d been so preoccupied with the skull bowl and the teak coffins that he could have conducted his little raid then, stuffed things in the pockets of his pants and jacket, and transferred them to his borrowed clothes while she was unconscious.
So that’s what Doc meant when he said of the Thins, “They’re not interested in Lu’s wealth or your celebrity.” She felt a flush of anger rising in her face. But did she have a right to be upset? Annja stood and paced. The treasures had been stolen from somewhere, and certainly a good portion of them were being whisked away from the cavern now…if they hadn’t already been carted off in the backs of the Jeeps. Luartaro had kept these few valuable pieces out of the thieves’ hands. But this made him no better than a thief.
“Yet I took the skull bowl,” she whispered. The line was so often blurred between good and evil, right and wrong. There’d been so much treasure…maybe it was just too tempting to Luartaro. It certainly had been too tempting for Zakkarat. Maybe Luartaro had never done such a thing before, snared antiquities for his personal gain, but she suddenly doubted that. He didn’t seem at a loss for funds…not when she’d met him, and not when he agreed to this vacation and exchanged a stack of his money for Thai baht at the airport.
“Damn it, Lu.” She stood ramrod straight and stared down at him, finding it difficult to hold on to her ire. “I took the skull bowl.” And she meant to find Zakkarat and get it back. But if she couldn’t, at least she had the digital camera and the pictures and could download the shots. Cradling the camera and batteries to her chest, she spun and headed to the door.
“Annja?”
She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
A groggy Luartaro looked up at her. He made a move to rise, but gave up on it, like a drunk whose muscles wouldn’t cooperate.
“Annja? You all right?”
“Fine,” she said, coming back to him. “Mending, anyway.”
He blinked and twisted his head from side to side, the gesture looking comical. “You heal fast.” He worked his lips and tongue. “You are remarkable, Annja. I’d been so worried, I—” He