Asp of Ascension (A Nefertari Hughes Mystery #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Riding in the back seat of Fraser's dented hatchback was like sitting inside a mailbox. Piles of papers were stacked like archaeological layers of homework, the earliest at the bottom with the most recent on top. Terry checked out his profile from the back seat, and wondered how someone so disorganized could run a newspaper.

He caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. "Let's review the plan," he said, an energy to his tone. He changed lanes quickly and a car blared its horn behind them.

"Can we get there in one piece?" Maude asked, tightening her grip on the door handle. Her voice quivered. "The plan won't matter if we're dead." She was up front with Fraser, something Terry knew terrified and thrilled her at the same time.

He frowned at Maude. "I find your lack of faith in my driving skills troubling."

She pointed to the windshield and said, "Stop looking at me and watch where we're going."

Fraser faced forward, but the frown remained. "I happen to have an IQ of one twenty-nine, you know."

"Is that good?" Terry asked from the backseat.

"Only borderline genius," he said. "I excel at reading, mostly." He snuck a peek at Maude.

She muttered something about priceless commodities and tightened her coat across her chest.

"The plan," Terry started, trying to change the focus, "is that we go to the Egypt room and take the asp off the mannequin."

Fraser snorted from the front seat. "No snags there."

"It doesn't have to be complicated," Terry said. "We'll walk in like we're supposed to be there, and no one will notice us." She leaned forward, putting her head between their front seats. "If we look like we belong, we'll stay hidden."

"I think we should have a code word," Maude suggested. She released her grip on the door handle and began to unwrap a Tootsie Pop. "You know, like if something goes wrong and we all need to run like crazy."

"How about, ABORT!" Fraser joked.

Maude ignored his comment. "Let's go with Twizzlers. No one is suspicious of Twizzlers." She nodded, satisfied with her idea. "All the good burglars have code words."

"We're not burglars." Terry sighed. "I'm not stealing the asp. All I have to do is take it to the basement where the sarcophagus is kept."

Fraser gripped the wheel. "This is epic. Can I be there when it's opened?"

"Easy, your glasses are fogging up," Maude taunted.

"It's the anticipation," he explained.

Maude turned around back to face Terry. "Can't we ask Dr. Mullaca to help?" The nervousness in her question came through clearly.

"As soon as we get the asp, I'm handing it over to her," Terry said. "I don't trust myself to unlock the coffin without her. I could mess it up—I'll only have one chance. It's weird, though, if she was so anxious about me finding the asp, why hasn't she called me again?"

Fraser hit the brakes, and Maude's sucker went flying out of her hand. The seatbelt tightened against Terry's chest as Fraser handled the gearshift quickly, putting it in reverse.

"Watch this," he said. With one arm over Maude's headrest, he twisted his body toward the back. After a few manoeuvres he stopped the car. "Fred from Scooby-Doo delivered, girls," he boasted.

"Congratulations," Maude said. "You parallel parked. Your medal is in the mail."

"You fail to see the genius of my ways. It's also a prime spot in front of the museum." Fraser unbuckled his belt, looking proud. "In case we need a quick getaway." Then he added, "You're welcome."