Sibylline Greetings (Book 2, the LiteraTours Cozy Mystery Series)

Chapter 9 - The Tomb

High heels clacked on the tiled floor of the hotel bar. Ike craned over her neck to check out the newcomer.

Shalon.

"May I join?" she asked. "I can't just go to bed. I keep thinking about that poor woman."

"Welcome to the club," Ike said and felt guilty because the arrival of the other guide gave her the perfect excuse to order a second glass of wine. And she really should walk the poor dog.

Shalon grabbed a beige beanbag from the neighbouring table and dropped on it from a great height. Ike twitched aside, expecting the bag to explode and shoot styrofoam pellets in all directions. But despite being roughly of the same shape and size, Shalon appeared to be a lot lighter than she was.

"Gals that sure counts as the worst day in my life."

"Unfortunately, I know exactly what you're talking about." Ike speared an olive from the fresh pot the waiter had delivered with the second round.

"Is everything sorted?" Brigitte asked.

"Well, as far as possible. The embassy is involved, next of kin informed, what else can I do? If only my boss weren't such a . . . Well, he's not very understanding. He'll probably sack me for gross negligence."

Brigitte looked up from her fizzy water. "Ah, bah. Try not to worry so much. Is the guy here in Rome?"

"Oh no, he's got plenty of tours to organise. Doesn't get to travel a lot himself. He had a motorcycle accident as a teen and can't walk so well. These days, he's mostly in a wheelchair. Doesn't stop him from hitting on me. "

Shalon's eyes, blue rather than Ike's brown-flecked green, narrowed. A small pout formed on her rosebud lips. Another difference between the American and her: Ike knew her mouth was too generous, but then she had plenty of use for it.

"See, that's the other problem. He wants me, but I don't want him back. He'll ditch me eventually, just because of that."

"Men," said Ike and two heads nodded their understanding. Unfair on Gary perhaps who might be a tick cucumberish (quite a lot actually) but at least he wasn't a total tosser which Shalon's boss seemed to be. His lordship also wasn't Ike's boss and overall not a bad bloke. If he only would relax once in a while. But he was dependable, intelligent—everything Ben, her blasted ex, hadn't been. But then, one didn't get attracted to a man only because he made such a great backup.

And smelled nice. Kind of spicy.

Ah bah, as Brigitte would say.

Ike reigned in her rambling thoughts, just in time to hear a male bass rumbling above her. "Good evening, ladies." Viktor, the German archaeologist, had arrived.

Boris dashed towards him with a happy yip. The big man bent down and fondled his paws. "Hey there, how are you doing, doggie?"

Over his bent back, a second male shape hovered, that one much smaller: Graziano, his Italian colleague.

Ike leaned backwards in her chair and craned her neck at the hunk blocking the light. "Don't tell me the cop took that long to interrogate you?"

White teeth materialised somewhere in the middle of Viktor's bushy beard. "Nothing to worry about. I told that detective chappie what I remembered, Graziano did likewise, and we were out pretty fast."

Interesting. That didn't quite tally with Ike's experience.

"He's arrested by Mr Baxter," Shalon said indignantly. She still carried a frown on her smooth forehead, indicating Brigitte and Ike were not forgiven their lapse.