In the previous episode, when Kristi goes back to find her flashlight that night, readers voted that she saw a man she did not recognize.
Kristi switched off her flashlight. Clouds scudded across the moon, and for a moment there was complete darkness.
Then the light appeared again, bobbing around the entrance to the tomb. That was odd. No one had mentioned planning to visit the excavation site tonight.
Gripping her flashlight tightly, she crept toward the tomb. The person had gone inside by the time she reached the entrance. Flattening herself against the wall, she peered inside . . .
. . . and almost screamed as someone clapped a hand across her mouth and dragged her back. Heart pounding, she twisted and stomped on the person’s foot, hard.
“Damn,” Edmund said, stumbling backwards. “That hurt.”
“What are you doing?” Kristi hissed. “You scared me to death.”
“What are you doing, creeping around? Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”
“You’re the one with the gunshot wound, you should be in bed. Besides, I asked first.” In the dim light of the moon, she could see Edmund glaring at her. “Fine, I dropped my flashlight this afternoon, and I was looking for it. Who–”
She paused as a few pebbles bounced off the cliff and landed at their feet. They both looked up at the path winding its way above them, a pale smudge in the moonlight.
“He heard us,” Edmund kicked at the pebbles.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t someone I recognized.”
“Would I know him? What did he look like?”
“Dark skin, medium height and weight, and he had a beard. He was wearing a robe and turban, but no shoes, though.”
Kristi chewed her lip impatiently. That didn’t help much. “What was he doing?”
“It was hard to tell. Looking for something, maybe?”
“Come on,” Edmund said, holding out his hand. “We’d better go. I’m sure he won’t be back tonight.”
. . .
“Well, we’re much obliged for your help,” the sergeant said as he showed them to the door the next morning. “We’ll let you know if we find anything. In the meantime, be careful.”
“We will,” Kristi said. As they turned to go, she caught sight of Abdul, crossing the street. He pushed himself up on his toes and looked around suspiciously. He seemed satisfied with what he saw. After adjusting the feather on his turban, he slipped through a doorway and disappeared.
The sergeant followed her gaze. “A friend of yours?”
She shook her head. “We met him a few days ago.”
“He’s a rum one. I wouldn’t get mixed up with him if I could help it. Not that we’ve been able to prove anything yet, but . . .” He raised his eyebrows significantly.
“Art forgery?” Kristi asked.
“Among other things.”
He shrugged. “Smuggling. Blackmail. Prostitution, probably. None of the locals will cooperate with us though, so it’s hard to get proof.”
Abdul popped back out of the house and continued down the street, a pleased look on his face. Kristi shivered. Vote below on what will happen next or if reading in email click Take our Poll.