Free The Honey Mummy (Folley & Mallory Adventure Book 3) by E. Catherine Tobler Page A

panic on Cleo’s face was like a knife in Eleanor’s gut and she was desperate to explain. But she couldn’t.
    “I thought this was over and done,” Cleo said, striding for the door. “You gave the rings
back
. Irving is
gone
. Anubis should not be…” She paced in a circle, as restless as Eleanor, then headed again for the door. “Akila is here and Anubis is here and the auction had—” Her metal hand fell to the doorknob with a clatter, and she pulled the door open.
    “Cleo—”
    “I can’t,” Cleo said and was gone before Eleanor could try to call her back again.
    * * *
    Virgil poured coffee the following morning in the hotel dining room, as Auberon opened a file dedicated to George Pettigrew. The dining room was not yet bustling, the space still reflecting its Egyptian roots even though the British had well and truly taken it over. While white linen draped the tables, the tables were still wicker, and so too the chairs with their generously padded seat cushions. The room itself was generous with both its space and its views; the entire north side of the room sported floor to ceiling windows; the shutters and windows opened to allow the scent of the morning harbor inside. Salt and sea, and not yet the strong fish that would come with the warming of the day.
    “Pettigrew and Irving have not crossed paths with that much frequency,” Auberon said, spreading pages across the white linen, “however when they did, it appears to have been at important junctions in Mistral history.” Auberon went on to cite cases Virgil was familiar with, missions to Russia, Algeria, and the forested uplands of Germany. Howard Irving had returned a director from Germany, whatever else had happened there—the files remained sealed, even to Virgil and Auberon.
    Virgil filled Auberon’s coffee cup, and then drew a third near to hand when he spied Eleanor across the room. She looked as though she had not slept well, anxious and concerned. Virgil would have paid good money if it meant her mind was eased, but with the abrupt appearance of a new set of rings Virgil didn’t figure any of them would be relaxing any time soon.
    “It won’t surprise me if we turn up connections to Irving for the next dozen years,” Virgil said. He poured coffee for Eleanor as she crossed to their table, and added cream and sugar near her place setting, as had already become habit. He liked that it had, that he knew how she took her coffee of all things.
    “Gentlemen,” she said, and they rose from their chairs, Virgil pulling Eleanor’s out to hold it as she sat. She was not wearing trousers today, but a slim skirt that still supported a modest bustle. He watched as the ingenious thing collapsed into a neat bundle as she seated herself. Each chair had arms, but her skirt did not overflow them.
    “Miss Folley,” Auberon said.
    “Eleanor.” Virgil dared drop a kiss against her cheek before rounding the table and seating himself once more. “You don’t look particularly well rested.” He was certain a gentleman shouldn’t comment on such, especially in shared company, but the shadows that clung to her—and not just under her eyes—worried him.
    Eleanor clasped her hands in her lap and exhaled. “I have been up for hours,” she said. She sat motionless a long while, then leaned forward to tend to her coffee, adding cream and slowly stirring, then settling the spoon into the saucer. “I had a visit from Anubis.”
    This was not the news Virgil expected to hear, nor anything he wanted to hear. He leaned back in his chair as if he had been struck, and even Auberon went still.
    “How is that…” Auberon drew himself straighter in his chair. “Anubis cannot…does not?…simply come and go?”
    The look Eleanor gave Auberon left Virgil laughing, despite the circumstances.
    “I’m not entirely sure who might tell him he could not?” Eleanor asked. She took a long swallow of the coffee and cradled the china cup as she considered. “I