Chapter One
Riley MacKenzie wrapped his scarf around his neck, slipped
on thick leather gloves, shrugged on his heavy wool coat and
pulled his fleece-lined toboggan down low over his ears. He
grabbed his worn leather satchel—ignoring the stack of books
that slid off the chair and onto the floor—and didn’t spare
a second glance at his overly cramped, disorganized office.
In fact, he slammed the door behind him and locked it with
what might be misconstrued as glee.
School was out for winter break. Finals had been taken.
Grades had been given. And he was a free man until January.
Well, almost free. He still had one thing to do before he
could go home to Surrender, Montana and spend the holidays
with his family.
He had no idea why he’d agreed to meet Margaret Lawrence,
other than the fact he was simply curious. Not about the
woman. She’d told him in her email she was the director for
the Library of Antiquities in Washington, which in his
opinion meant she was nothing more than a highly paid
babysitter to dusty relics.
He figured by the terse and direct tone of her email that
she was probably a relic herself. Deep lines would be carved
into her face from the perpetual scowl she probably used to
chase away those who lingered in her hallowed halls too
long. But old Mags didn’t concern him in the least. What she
had in her possession did.
She’d been very withholding of information in her emails
other than to tell him her colleague, Dr. Jonathon Scott,
had recommended Riley to her. Since Riley was considered an
expert in Egyptian Artifacts and he was friends with Jon
Scott, he could only assume she wanted him to identify
something for her.
Her email had said it was urgent, and the tingles of
excitement that ran up and down his spine told him she had
something he was going to be very interested in. It was the
same feeling he got just before he unearthed a priceless
treasure while on a dig.
The cold Montana wind slapped against his face as he left
the Archaeology Building at Declan College and headed to the
faculty parking lot. The smell of snow was heavy in the air,
and he hoped he could satisfy Ms. Lawrence’s curiosity and
get home before it started. The last thing he wanted was to
be trapped in a blizzard.
It was already as black as pitch outside, though it was
barely six o’clock in the evening. No stars blinked in the
sky and the moon was just a hazy glow behind the thick snow
clouds. Riley unlocked his dusty 4x4 and slid in, tossing
his bag to the back. The engine coughed and sputtered as it
warmed up, and he turned the stereo up to teeth shaking
volume in hopes it would get his mind off the cold.
Margaret had agreed to come to him. She’d seemed desperate
behind her written attempt of vibrato, which would have made
a normal person hesitate before going into the meeting, but
his curiosity and excitement had overridden his internal
warnings. Not that throwing caution to the wind was anything
new for him. Of the four MacKenzie brothers, he was known as
the most reckless.
He headed in the opposite direction of Surrender, to a
little coffee shop just down the road. Myrna Springs was a
small college town, and Declan College was its main means of
support. Riley loved teaching there—as much as he was able
to love teaching. He’d much rather be on constant digs and
delving into piles of research and writing academic papers
that would get him noticed by colleagues all over the world.
But something had to pay the bills.
Declan College was a private school with a well-funded
endowment, good pay and some of the best professors the
country had to offer. He was close to home, his class
schedule was full but manageable, he was dean of the
archaeology department and he had plenty of time to work on
his research papers and plan his next dig. So he wasn’t
complaining.
The parking lot in front of The Coffee House was mostly
deserted except for a smattering of a few cars. No doubt
everyone was at home getting ready for the storm. He pushed
through the glass door and a warm rush of heat greeted him.
He stuck his hat and gloves in his pockets and hung his coat
and scarf up on the rack by the door.
The interior was suited to the college crowd. Art deco
posters framed with thick black wood hung on light colored
walls. The lighting was dim and cozy. Overstuffed red chairs
sat grouped around a coffee table in the corner, and a
fireplace tiled with hunter green marble took up a good bit
of the back wall. Riley found a booth closest to the
fireplace, taking a moment to warm his hands in front of the
fire.
“Hey, Dr. MacKenzie,” Tyler Whidbey said from behind the
counter. Tyler had been one of his intro archaeology
students last spring. “I’ll have coffee out for you in just
a second. Do you want food?”
“You bet, Tyler. Thanks. I haven’t had a chance to eat
today. Whatever you’ve got handy is fine.”
“Good,” he said with obvious relief. “The manager closed the
kitchen about an
hour ago, so all we’ve got is stew on the stove and some bread.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Riley looked at his watch and frowned as he saw Ms. Lawrence
was late. If she wasn’t there by the time he finished his
meal, she’d have to find another expert or come all the way
to Surrender. Spending the holidays with his family was the
one thing he never missed.