Free The Reincarnationist by M. J. Rose

saying?” he asked one of the medics.
    â€œ Aspetta . Wait for her. He’s repeating it over and over.”
    They worked on him for a few more minutes and then the woman counted— uno, due, tre —and together they lifted him off the ground, onto a stretcher, strapped him in, and then, in a complicated series of maneuvers, hoisted him out.
    Josh followed after them.
    Moving quickly, but also being careful not to jostle him, they wheeled him toward the ambulance. In the distance, the roar of a car engine grew louder. A navy blue Fiat raced up the road, dust flying in its wake. A few seconds later, it pulled to a screeching halt and a tall woman jumped out on the driver’s side. She moved in a blur—pure energy—rushing toward the gurney. Josh got a flash of sunburned skin, high, wide cheekbones and windswept, wild, honey-colored hair. Her voice was a combination of authority and fear as she called out her questions to the medics. Even under stress there was a lyrical cadence to her words. As focused on her as he was, Josh didn’t notice Malachai until he called out to him.
    As always, Malachai was wearing a suit, despite theheat. He was so meticulous even his shoes were newly shined. That wouldn’t last long now that he was on site.
    â€œAre you all right?” Malachai questioned.
    â€œFine. I’m fine. But I need to talk to Gabriella Chase.” Josh pointed to the woman who’d gotten out of the car. “Is that her?”
    â€œYes, but first—”
    â€œThe professor made me promise I’d tell her what happened, and—”
    He put his hand on Josh’s arm to stop him. “She’s with the medics. So tell me, what happened?”
    Briefly, Josh explained about the shooting.
    â€œWere you alone with him?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou were the only witness?”
    â€œYes. No one else was down there. Now I need—”
    â€œDid you see the man who shot Rudolfo?”
    â€œYes. Yes, I saw him….” Josh pictured the scene again as if his mind had filmed it. The man grabbing the box, opening it, pulling out the dark leather pouch, throwing the box on the ground, the professor’s moan, the scuffle, the shot. He stopped the pictures.
    â€œThe guard took the Memory Stones, if that’s what was in the box. Shot the professor and took the stones.”
    â€œDid you get a photograph of him?”
    â€œI was rushing to help and then it was too late.”
    Malachai stood shaking his head back and forth, trying to absorb the loss. They’d both desperately wanted to see the stones, to talk to Rudolfo and Chase about them, discover if they did indeed have the legendary power assigned to them. Now it appeared they’d never have that chance.
    â€œDid you see them before they were stolen?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSo you don’t know for sure they were in the box? They could have been somewhere else in the tomb?” A faint expression of hope.
    â€œI don’t know for sure…but from the way the professor reacted I’m fairly certain—”
    â€œI don’t think you should mention the stones to the police when they get here. Don’t conjecture about what was in the box.”
    Malachai must have read the confusion in Josh’s eyes because he didn’t wait for his question before answering it. “If it appears that you know too much it will make you a more likely suspect.”
    â€œBut I’m not a suspect, and shouldn’t they know what they are looking for? Don’t they need to?”
    â€œIf they know, word will get out, it’s inevitable, and the very last thing Beryl or I—or, I’m sure, Gabriella, once she knows what happened—want is for the world to know of the existence of those stones. Especially if they’ve been stolen.”
    â€œI don’t know. You’re asking me to lie to the police.”
    â€œAbout something that isn’t