through. I know she’s an old friend, but what if Medea did kill Dicky?”
Clearly amused, Elysia returned, “You don’t remember Maddie very well, do you?”
“I don’t remember her at all. I’ve seen her movies, though.”
“Then you’ll have to take my word for it. Maddie is no more a murderess than I am. But keeping me safe gives you an added incentive to come on this little jaunt, yes?”
As dearly as A.J. longed to say no , Elysia had a point, and unfortunately it seemed only too apparent that A.J. was not necessary to the smooth operation of Sacred Balance.
“What time tomorrow?” she grumbled.
“Let’s say eleven. I’ll treat you to lunch and we can discuss our strategy.” Elysia was ever gracious in victory.
A.J. agreed morosely, hung up, and went to find Lily. She found that the other woman had left the studio for an early break, and thwarted once again, A.J. returned to her own office.
There had to be more she could do even if she was sitting on the sidelines. A.J. opened her laptop again and went into her mail program hunting for the e-mails her mother had sent while on vacation in Egypt. She found them without too much difficulty and read over them, curiously inspecting the attached photos with new attention.
Even now they did not seem particularly revealing. The main point of interest from A.J.’s perspective was that Elysia never mentioned Dicky, although he appeared in picture after picture.
Perfectly symmetrical bone structure, a wide, white grin, shining black eyes. No question Dakarai Massri had been a very handsome young man; A.J. had to give him that much.
She tried to cast her memory back to Elysia’s first mention of Dicky. She thought it had been shortly after her mother’s return from Egypt, but that had been a difficult and stressful time—right after Nicole Manning had been killed. A.J.’s memories were fuzzy; she’d had a lot on her mind. She recalled she had commented on the attractive young man who appeared in so many of Elysia’s photos and Elysia had been vague—deliberately so, A.J. realized now. One thing she did remember was that Elysia had mentioned Dicky working for the Supreme Council of Antiquities.
Had he left the SCA after his decision to move to the States or had something happened at the SCA to precipitate that decision?
A.J. initiated a web search. She found the SCA without much trouble. It appeared to be a completely legitimate branch of the Egyptian Ministry of Culture originally established in 1859. Located in Cairo, the SCA was responsible for protecting and managing the cultural heritage of Egypt. That meant everything from restoring historical monuments to the recovery of stolen antiquities; she read an article on the SCA’s attempts to have the Rosetta Stone and the bust of Nefertiti returned from the foreign museums currently housing them.
It sounded like important work. Not the kind of profession a scheming blackmailer would opt for, but perhaps the SCA had merely been his day job.
Locating a phone number at the bottom of the official website for the SCA, A.J. spent the next few hours trying to find someone who knew of Dakarai Massri. Given the six-hour time difference, some long distance problems, and a bit of failure-to-communicate, she didn’t get far beyond verifying that Dicky had indeed been employed by the SCA for a time.
By the time she was finally willing to concede defeat for the day, it was after two o’clock and she was starving. She went next door to see if Lily was back from lunch. Lily had returned but she was upstairs teaching another class.
A.J. decided she could wait to have another unpleasant run-in with her co-manager until Monday. Packing her laptop, she went to the front lobby to tell Emma she would be out for the rest of the week.
As she knew she wouldn’t feel like cooking, she decided to stop for lunch on her way out of town, pulling into the parking lot of the Blue Bridge Pub, a new place she and Jake had
Clearly amused, Elysia returned, “You don’t remember Maddie very well, do you?”
“I don’t remember her at all. I’ve seen her movies, though.”
“Then you’ll have to take my word for it. Maddie is no more a murderess than I am. But keeping me safe gives you an added incentive to come on this little jaunt, yes?”
As dearly as A.J. longed to say no , Elysia had a point, and unfortunately it seemed only too apparent that A.J. was not necessary to the smooth operation of Sacred Balance.
“What time tomorrow?” she grumbled.
“Let’s say eleven. I’ll treat you to lunch and we can discuss our strategy.” Elysia was ever gracious in victory.
A.J. agreed morosely, hung up, and went to find Lily. She found that the other woman had left the studio for an early break, and thwarted once again, A.J. returned to her own office.
There had to be more she could do even if she was sitting on the sidelines. A.J. opened her laptop again and went into her mail program hunting for the e-mails her mother had sent while on vacation in Egypt. She found them without too much difficulty and read over them, curiously inspecting the attached photos with new attention.
Even now they did not seem particularly revealing. The main point of interest from A.J.’s perspective was that Elysia never mentioned Dicky, although he appeared in picture after picture.
Perfectly symmetrical bone structure, a wide, white grin, shining black eyes. No question Dakarai Massri had been a very handsome young man; A.J. had to give him that much.
She tried to cast her memory back to Elysia’s first mention of Dicky. She thought it had been shortly after her mother’s return from Egypt, but that had been a difficult and stressful time—right after Nicole Manning had been killed. A.J.’s memories were fuzzy; she’d had a lot on her mind. She recalled she had commented on the attractive young man who appeared in so many of Elysia’s photos and Elysia had been vague—deliberately so, A.J. realized now. One thing she did remember was that Elysia had mentioned Dicky working for the Supreme Council of Antiquities.
Had he left the SCA after his decision to move to the States or had something happened at the SCA to precipitate that decision?
A.J. initiated a web search. She found the SCA without much trouble. It appeared to be a completely legitimate branch of the Egyptian Ministry of Culture originally established in 1859. Located in Cairo, the SCA was responsible for protecting and managing the cultural heritage of Egypt. That meant everything from restoring historical monuments to the recovery of stolen antiquities; she read an article on the SCA’s attempts to have the Rosetta Stone and the bust of Nefertiti returned from the foreign museums currently housing them.
It sounded like important work. Not the kind of profession a scheming blackmailer would opt for, but perhaps the SCA had merely been his day job.
Locating a phone number at the bottom of the official website for the SCA, A.J. spent the next few hours trying to find someone who knew of Dakarai Massri. Given the six-hour time difference, some long distance problems, and a bit of failure-to-communicate, she didn’t get far beyond verifying that Dicky had indeed been employed by the SCA for a time.
By the time she was finally willing to concede defeat for the day, it was after two o’clock and she was starving. She went next door to see if Lily was back from lunch. Lily had returned but she was upstairs teaching another class.
A.J. decided she could wait to have another unpleasant run-in with her co-manager until Monday. Packing her laptop, she went to the front lobby to tell Emma she would be out for the rest of the week.
As she knew she wouldn’t feel like cooking, she decided to stop for lunch on her way out of town, pulling into the parking lot of the Blue Bridge Pub, a new place she and Jake had
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