Last Breath Part 32

He dialed Daria's number and was disappointed when it went right to voice mail.

He placed the phone on the console and drove under the arch that marked the entrance to the university. When he reached the lot, he parked in his favorite spot under the oak tree. In the fall, when he came back to see Daria, he thought he'd have to park elsewhere so that acorns wouldn't ping off his precious Porsche. He snapped the leash onto Sweet Thing's collar and got out of the car. The dog leaped across the console and out the driver's side door. Connor slammed it, locked it, and jogged down the path leading to McGowan House.

When they got to the back door, he found it was locked. Sweet Thing barked several times, staring up at the door.

"Maybe she's out front. Come on, girl." Connor and the dog trotted around the side of the house to the front porch.

"I know you're happy to be home," Connor said. He knocked, then rang the doorbell, but there was no answer.

The dog jumped up at the door, barking and whining.

"I don't think she's in there, girl."

He dialed Louise's office, and was surprised when she, rather than her a.s.sistant, answered the phone.

"Louise, it's Connor. I was trying to catch up with Daria. She's not at the house, so I was wondering if your meeting was still going on."

"We finished well over an hour ago. As a matter of fact, I just got back from the bank. I had a meeting there with the architect. He dropped off his numbers for the proposed renovations at the museum." He could hear the shuffling of papers. "I have to say, things are looking very good."

"Great. I'm happy to hear that." Sweet Thing started pulling him to the edge of the porch steps and he tugged back on the leash. "Louise, if Daria shows up, would you ask her to give me a call? I'm at the house but I'm locked out."

"Sure. And as soon as Vita gets back from lunch, I'll ask her to run over with an extra key for you."

"Vita." He said the name aloud as if testing it. "Louise, what do you know about Vita's background?"

"I know she grew up around Howeville, and that she was married briefly when she was young. She's worked at the university for a long time. Why?"

"Do you know what her maiden name was?"

"I don't think I ever heard her mention it. She's been Landis for as long as I've known her."

"Thanks."

He hung up the phone, not liking the thoughts that were running through his mind.

Vita.

Vedat.

He tried Daria's phone again. Still no answer. The uneasy feeling grew. Where was Daria?

Logic told him she was likely to be in one of three places. She wasn't here at the house and she wasn't at Louise's office.

That left the museum.

"Come on, girl." Connor led the dog down the porch steps. "Let's find Daria."

"Where are the guards the bank sent over?" Vita asked Stefano.

"Dismissed," he said simply.

Daria looked from Stefano to Vita.

"What's going on, Vita? I thought Louise and the architect-"

"I'm sorry, Daria, I really, really am," Vita said softly. "I really do like you. Under other circ.u.mstances, I'd have liked to have gotten to know you better."

"Please, cousin." Stefano was becoming impatient. "We really don't have time for this."

"Vita, I don't understand what's going on here, but I think I want-" Daria started toward the door, but Stefano blocked her way.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid we can't let you leave, Daria."

"It's too late, honey," Vita told her. "You just know too much."

"I don't understand," Daria repeated.

"It's only a matter of time before you do." Vita shook her head. She turned to Stefano. "Do it quickly."

"Uh-uh." He shook his head. "It has to be like the others."

"Why?" Vita frowned.

"Use your head, Vita. She's the great-granddaughter of the guy who dug it all up and brought it here. If we're going to pull this off, make it look like a religious ritual, she has to be killed just like the others were."

"Oh my G.o.d, you killed those people?" Daria gasped. "You killed all those people...?"

The closer they came to the museum, the more agitated Sweet Thing became. When the front door opened and the guard stepped out, the dog began snarling and snapping, demonstrating a viciousness Connor never suspected her capable of.

"Stop it," Connor commanded. "Stop it, girl. Sit. Stay."

The well-trained dog did as she was told, though her posture made it clear it was with the greatest reluctance.

"I'm sorry, but no one's allowed in." The guard stood with his back against the door, his eyes never leaving the dog.

"I think this gets me in." Connor held up his FBI credentials. The guard reached for it, and Sweet Thing lunged.

"Sit!" Eyeing the guard curiously, Connor restrained the dog.

After returning the ID, the guard stared at Connor, as if trying to decide what to do.

"I have my orders," he finally said.

Connor held up his ID again. "I think this supersedes any orders you have from anyone else."

"I will escort you." The guard began to open the door. "However, the dog-"

"Comes with me."

"There are no animals permitted inside the museum." He glanced nervously at Sweet Thing, who, though seated, continued to growl from deep inside her chest.

Clearly there was something about the guard she did not like.

"Sit," Connor told the dog. "Sit, girl."

Connor dropped the lead and the guard stared at the dog as if expecting an attack. His hand was on the holster that hung from his belt.

What security guard employed by a university was armed?

The guard nodded and beckoned Connor inside. Connor followed, careful to leave the door ajar behind him.

Connor hadn't mentioned who or what he was looking for, or where he was headed, but the guard led him down the steps into the bas.e.m.e.nt without hesitation. His suspicions aroused, Connor silently removed his Glock from its holster at the small of his back. All was quiet, all was dark as they entered the long hall leading to the storage areas. When the guard turned and motioned for Connor to go ahead of him, Connor shook his head slowly, and gestured with his gun hand. The guard stared at the weapon, then shrugged.

Guided by the light from the far doorway, the two men proceeded through the room where the Jacobs artifacts were stored. At the sound of voices from the next room, the guard slowed, then stopped just outside the lighted door.

"You killed all those people?" Daria's voice drifted out to the anteroom. "You made it look as if the gallas...?"

Connor could see over the guard's shoulder into the room beyond, where Daria stood between Vita Landis and Stefano Korban, who held a handgun pointed directly at Daria.

"Gallas?" Stefano Korban's laugh was loud and brittle. "See, Vita, didn't I tell you that was the way to go? Even the esteemed Dr. McGowan fell for that c.r.a.p."

"Don't be disrespectful," Vita said softly. "You are gallas, Stefano."

"Yeah, yeah, I know: As was my father, so am I. So are Tabib and the kid. Your father was, too, but that didn't stop him from helping himself to the goodies, did it, Priestess?"

Connor moved forward but the guard's arm shot out to stop him. The look on the man's face was pure rage. Under his breath, he was whispering in a language Connor couldn't quite make out.

"Priestess?" Daria looked to Vita for an explanation.

"I suppose I should explain." Vita sighed. "For the past two thousand years, there have been those who remained faithful to Ereshkigal and have kept watch over the place where the city once stood, believing that one day, the city would be reborn. As centuries pa.s.sed, the numbers of the believers diminished until there were fewer and fewer to guard the city. Finally, Shandihar was rediscovered, but instead of being restored, the temples were stripped of the sacred objects; they were packed up and brought here. Those who still served the G.o.ddess followed, and have been keeping watch over the treasure for the past century, right here at Howe."

"Vita, for Christ's sake!" Stefano's patience had run out. "No one gives a s.h.i.t about any of that."

"Shut up, Stefano," Vita snapped. "You're going to kill her. She might as well know why."

She turned back to Daria. "In every generation, there have been those who have served the G.o.ddess-the gallas and the priestesses. These roles can only be inherited. I inherited the t.i.tle of priestess from my mother, as Stefano inherited the role of guardian from his father," Vita said softly. "And yes, my father was also a gallas, but all those priceless treasures were too great a temptation for him to resist. He was a weak man. He stole some of the artifacts and sold them."

"Vita, enough." Stefano rubbed his free hand over his face in frustration.

She ignored him.

"In the beginning, I only wanted to...reappropriate everything my father had taken, and return them to the crates they came in. That way, no one would ever know what he'd done. I never intended for anyone to get hurt."

"You are so full of s.h.i.t," Stefano said, sneering. "Once you found out how much that stuff was worth on the black market, once you heard millions, all that talk of family honor went down the tubes." He turned to Daria. "The plan all along was to get those artifacts back and sell them to the highest bidder. It was a piece of cake to get those two losers to go after the artifacts and make it look like some act of ancient retribution."

Vita turned on him. "It was your idea to convince Tabib and his brother that they had a sacred obligation to avenge the G.o.ddess. You pounded that into their heads, you taught them how to kill."

"So much more interesting than simple thefts, don't you think?" He laughed. "And who would suspect a respected archaeologist and the president's a.s.sistant? Tabib and Anatole were honored to do whatever the priestess told them to do. Honored to protect your ident.i.ty. After all, it was the will of the G.o.ddess...and these dumb jacka.s.ses were willing to do anything for their G.o.ddess."

Three rapid gunshots split the air.

Daria screamed and covered her ears as Stefano's head exploded and he fell face forward. Vita dropped where she stood. A blur of white flashed past the guard, jostling him before he could fire off another round. Before the shooter had a chance to recover his balance, Connor tackled him from behind and wrestled the gun from his hand.

"Daria! Are you all right?" Connor called.

"Yes. I'm not hit." She had taken cover crouched behind a crate. She hugged the dog gratefully. "Sweet Thing, you did good, girl."

"Who else is there?" Connor lifted the guard's head. "Who else is working with you?"

"Just those two." The guard spat in the direction of Stefano's lifeless body.

"The boy?"

"Anatole. My brother."

"Daria, do you think you can call 911?"

She nodded.

"Tell them we need Chief Thorpe over here and we need an ambulance immediately."

Daria stood on unsteady legs and reached for her bag. She tried to locate her phone but her fingers felt numb.

"Use mine." Connor took his phone from his pocket and slid it across the floor to her.

"Why do we need an ambulance?" Daria looked down at Vita, whose body was sprawled on the floor five feet away. "They're dead."

"Korban didn't survive that shot to the head, but I think he only winged Vita. She's still alive," he told her. "I want to make sure she stays that way. She has a lot to answer for."

TWENTY-SIX.

"H ow is she?" Daria stood outside the museum, Sweet Thing's leash wrapped around her hand, and watched as Vita Landis was carried from the building on a stretcher. There was a lot of blood, but the older woman appeared to be alert.

"Looks like not much more than a flesh wound, for all the blood," Chief Thorpe replied. "The more important question is, how are you?"

"I'm fine, really. I wasn't injured. Just scared." Daria sat on one of the concrete benches in the courtyard.

"Think you'll feel up to answering some questions later?" he asked. "I'm going to be tied up for a while at the hospital, but I'd like to stop over later today to get your statement."

"I'll be home. Whenever it's convenient for you will be fine with me, Chief."

They watched the man they knew only as Tabib being placed in the back of a patrol car.