Curse of the Amber by Kathryn Troy

Author:Kathryn Troy [Troy, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-949090-35-2
Publisher: City Owl Press

Out of control nerves over accusations of stealing a bog body were the perfect cover for nerves about harboring said body come to life. There was no choice but to go with it. When I arrived in the chair’s office in Hayes Hall, Alex was already there. So were the Graduate Director for Archaeology and the Vice Principal of Humanities. I’d been in plenty of rooms like this before, paneled in wood, save for loft windows, and made stiflingly warm with dense carpets, plush upholstery, and gilded, antique frames, packed with stiffening white men. But with all eyes on me as I took the empty seat beside Alex, I felt hideously out of place.

I resisted the urge to look to Alex for some sign of the room’s mood and stared ahead at Magnusson. I sat straight as a rod.

“So far,” Magnusson started, “the police haven’t found any real leads on your body. Given that it’s been almost a month, I doubt they ever will. And of course, in matters such as these, the university conducts its own investigation as well.”

I dug my canine into the inside of my lip to stop myself from screaming or passing out. Both were equally possible.

“Miss Hayes?” he started.

“Yes?” I squeaked.

“You told the police officer on the scene you closed the lab at eight o’clock?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered in my normal voice, pushing my fingernails into my palm.

“You locked up?”

I hadn’t remembered until he asked—who had time to worry about such things when you’re driving home the Mummy?

“N-no, I didn’t,” I stammered. “I didn’t have the key.”

Magnusson started in his chair, his eyes stabbing into Alex as he spoke to me. “You were there alone?”

Alex looked at me with eyes of steel.

“Just for a few minutes, professor.”

“That’s not what you told the police, Carew.”

“I had a family emergency,” he grumbled. “What difference does it make?”

“Students are not permitted in the labs without a faculty member present,” Magnusson said sternly. “You left the lab unlocked and unguarded. That changes the entire aspect of the investigation.”

A storm brewed behind Alex’s eyes, but he said nothing. Vice Principal Booth cleared his throat from behind Magnusson’s chair.

“I wouldn’t classify the Whateleys’ dinner party as a family emergency,” he said simply. When you’re up for tenure,” he cleared his throat again, with menacing emphasis, “the least you could do is keep your lies straight.”

The room was deathly still. I didn’t know where to look and settled for the corner of a Napoleonic painting to the left of the window behind Magnusson. My gaze rested on the lower right corner of the frame, where the flourishes carved deep into the wood had accumulated a considerable amount of dust. Magnusson addressed me, snapping my eyes back into focus on his unyielding face.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell us, Miss Hayes?”

I couldn’t think, for having too much I didn’t want to say. “I have a question,” I ventured.

“Yes?”

“Um, what’s going to happen to me?”

He leaned back into the pink, puckered upholstery in his chair, and folded his hands neatly in his lap.

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