“The first contact between the Egyptians and Nubians dates back nearly seven thousand years,” Gage was saying. “That’s when ancient Egyptians launched their earliest expedition to the land of Punt, which meant gold.”
One of the women stood to ask a question about the Egyptians’ influence on Nubia and how it pertained to his search for the rubies.
“I believe studying the history of an area is extremely important. It provides crucial insight that helps us locate whatever we’re searching for.”
The woman, a beautiful brunette who was clearly enthralled, remained standing. “In this case, history that goes back thousands of years.”
“That’s correct. Ancient Egyptians called NubiaTa-neter, land of the gods, and viewed it as a mysterious and unknown place of great fortune. Their trading excursions brought back gold, incense, ebony, ivory, exotic animals, and skins. One such traveler set out for home with gifts for the Pharaoh that included several gold and ruby necklaces of unimaginable value. Unfortunately, the rubies disappeared along the way.”
Gage went on to explain how, two years ago, an artifact had been uncovered that set the wheels in motion.
“An Egyptian friend came to see me. He asked me to lead an expedition in search of the rubies. I agreed, and fortunately, we managed to find them.”
Gage finished the rest of his lecture, and the lights came up as the question-and-answer period began—a good time to leave, Abby figured. Staying in the back, she made her way through the crowd to an exit door that led directly outside, pushed through, and stepped into the darkness.
The moment the door swung closed behind her, shutting out the light from inside, she realized the error she had made. She turned back and tried the door, wasn’t surprised to find it locked. It wasn’t that far to the car, she told herself. She just needed to reach the side of the building where it was brightly lit and cross to the parking lot.
Her brown leather ankle boots clicked on the asphalt as she made her way down the alley at the back of the building. She hadn’t noticed anyone around when she’d stepped outside, but now she heard the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by footfalls echoing behind her.
A quick look over her shoulder and she spotted the shadowy figure of a man in an overcoat striding along in her wake. Abby quickened her pace. He was tall and spare, his overcoat flapping around his legs as his long strides carried him toward her.
A thought stirred that there was something familiar about him. Was it possible this was the same man who had broken into her house? She snatched another quick look. Same height, same lean, wide-shouldered build. Her pulse quickened along with her footsteps.
Surely there was no way he could know where she would be tonight. Not unless . . . Not unless he knew where she was staying and had followed her to the museum. Her heart rate accelerated even more.
Another quick glance confirmed her fear as she saw him closing the distance between them. Abby started running, her lungs pumping as she raced toward the light coming from around the side of the building and the museum parking lot. Behind her, pounding footsteps matched her own, the man drawing even closer.
Abby burst around the corner and kept running. People were beginning to stream out of the building through the entrance that led to the lecture hall. She quickly altered her course to catch up with them and blend into the exiting throng.
The lecture-goers spread out as they reached the parking lot, Abby among them. She spotted her red Fiat convertible and felt a rush of gratitude that the March weather was still too chilly to put the top down.
She glanced back in search of the man who was following her. If he was there, he was just another figure in the crowd. Abby didn’t slow down.
She had almost reached her car when Gage Logan seemed to appear out of nowhere, his long strides quickly catching up with her shorter ones. Her heart was still thrumming, her face flushed, her breathing a little ragged. In the overhead light, she saw his dark brows pull together in a frown.
“Abigail. Are you all right?”
She swallowed, managed to nod. “I’m . . . I’m all right.”
He studied her face. “Something happened. What was it?”
She glanced back toward the building, saw that most of the crowd had dispersed. “I just got a little spooked. I’m sure it was nothing.”
“Tell me what happened.”
She sighed, resigned to explaining. She hoped she didn’t sound like an idiot. “When the lecture ended, I went out the back door. I didn’t realize how dark it was until I got outside and the door locked behind me. Someone came out a few seconds later. There was something about him that looked familiar. I was afraid it was the man who broke into my house—same height and build—but . . .”
She took a calming breath, her adrenaline still pumping. “I’m sure I was wrong. There’s no way he could have known I would be here tonight.”
A muscle tightened in Logan’s jaw. “Not unless he followed you.”
Exactly what she had been thinking. “I’m staying at a friend’s apartment while she’s out of town, so there’s no way he could know where I am.”
“Are you sure?”
A shiver ran through her. It had taken her several days to move her stuff out of the old house. He could have been watching, could have followed her to the apartment.
She looked up at Logan. “No.”
