some stones that will tell something.”
“Actually, I’m not sure it will be excavated. I think maybe Claire is cutting this area from the plan.” Erin pulled a small twig from one of the antique rose vines.
“So much for not changing a design in the middle of a dig. I think I’ll be glad to be leaving this place.”
“Oh, no. Don’t tell me that. You’re the only nice person here. You, Marina, and Mrs. Laurens.”
“I’m clearly unwelcome and, frankly, my abilities are being purposefully wasted.”
“Hey, man, what’s going on?”
Before Lindsay turned around, she caught a whiff of beer and body odor. Trent Rich approached them, looking as if he had just risen from his bed after a two-week drunk without changing, showering, or even combing his hair. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his bare forearm, then wiped his arm on his cutoffs. Lindsay and Erin stepped away from him.
“Getting a cold, man. I feel awful. Who’s that guy over there?”
His eyes were so bloodshot, Lindsay was surprised he could see out of them.
“Someone looking for Drew,” offered Erin.
“Well, good luck to him. What happened here?” Trent stared at the damage to Feature 3.
“He drove his truck over it,” said Lindsay. “Do you have photographs of the feature?”
“Me? I just got here.”
“No. I mean before it was damaged.”
“No, it’s not finished.” Trent looked around. “Where’s his truck?”
“Claire stole it,” said Erin.
“Hey, way to go, Claire!”
“Trent,” said Lindsay, “you don’t look well. Why don’t you go back to bed? We’ll explain to Claire how bad you look.”
“It’s tempting, but I gotta earn my pay. Where’s my crew?”
Erin pointed to the woods where the Adonis twins—as she and Kelsey sometimes called tall, blond, long-haired Powell Gavin and his short-haired blond brother, Dillon—were digging.
“They’re working on another structure,” said Erin.
“The woods, huh?” He eyed the area suspiciously. “I just hate this jungle, don’t you? Maybe it’s cooler over there.” Trent caught site of his crew and ambled over in their direction.
“Is he on drugs?” asked Erin.
“It would be my guess,” said Lindsay. “I’m taking a break—I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Lindsay started for the house where her new Explorer was parked.
I must be in a coma and this is a nightmare, she thought. No. I’m probably dead and this is hell. I was sent here for digging up John’s ancestors.
The thought of spending an eternity at this site was almost too dark a punishment to imagine. Why in the world had Lewis wanted her to come here in the first place? Then it hit her. Of course.
She doubled her speed, racing across a small bridge spanning the creek that fed Helget Pond and to the parking lot. She punched the number code into the keypad on the driver’s door of her Explorer, opened the door, and climbed in. Fortunately, the cell phone had a good signal. She dialed the number for the UGA Division of Anthropology and Archaeology, muttering under her breath and drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited for an answer. Kate, the division secretary, answered the phone.
“Kate. I want to speak to Lewis, now.”
“Is this Lindsay? How you doing? I think Dr. Lewis is with someone . . .”
“I don’t care if he’s with the President, I want to speak with him.”
“Uh-oh, what’s he done now?”
“Sent me here.”
As Lindsay talked, she caught sight of Marina Ethridge on the front porch talking to someone in the shadows.
“Lindsay.” The too cheerful voice came over the phone. “What can I do for you?”
“Lewis, did you send me here to investigate a crime?”
Chapter 8
The Repo Man
“HAVE YOU FOUND a crime?” Lewis asked.
Lindsay could imagine him sitting behind his polished French provincial desk trying to look innocent. She was in no mood for it.
“Let’s not fence, Lewis. A woman’s family is accusing Drew of murder
“Actually, I’m not sure it will be excavated. I think maybe Claire is cutting this area from the plan.” Erin pulled a small twig from one of the antique rose vines.
“So much for not changing a design in the middle of a dig. I think I’ll be glad to be leaving this place.”
“Oh, no. Don’t tell me that. You’re the only nice person here. You, Marina, and Mrs. Laurens.”
“I’m clearly unwelcome and, frankly, my abilities are being purposefully wasted.”
“Hey, man, what’s going on?”
Before Lindsay turned around, she caught a whiff of beer and body odor. Trent Rich approached them, looking as if he had just risen from his bed after a two-week drunk without changing, showering, or even combing his hair. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his bare forearm, then wiped his arm on his cutoffs. Lindsay and Erin stepped away from him.
“Getting a cold, man. I feel awful. Who’s that guy over there?”
His eyes were so bloodshot, Lindsay was surprised he could see out of them.
“Someone looking for Drew,” offered Erin.
“Well, good luck to him. What happened here?” Trent stared at the damage to Feature 3.
“He drove his truck over it,” said Lindsay. “Do you have photographs of the feature?”
“Me? I just got here.”
“No. I mean before it was damaged.”
“No, it’s not finished.” Trent looked around. “Where’s his truck?”
“Claire stole it,” said Erin.
“Hey, way to go, Claire!”
“Trent,” said Lindsay, “you don’t look well. Why don’t you go back to bed? We’ll explain to Claire how bad you look.”
“It’s tempting, but I gotta earn my pay. Where’s my crew?”
Erin pointed to the woods where the Adonis twins—as she and Kelsey sometimes called tall, blond, long-haired Powell Gavin and his short-haired blond brother, Dillon—were digging.
“They’re working on another structure,” said Erin.
“The woods, huh?” He eyed the area suspiciously. “I just hate this jungle, don’t you? Maybe it’s cooler over there.” Trent caught site of his crew and ambled over in their direction.
“Is he on drugs?” asked Erin.
“It would be my guess,” said Lindsay. “I’m taking a break—I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Lindsay started for the house where her new Explorer was parked.
I must be in a coma and this is a nightmare, she thought. No. I’m probably dead and this is hell. I was sent here for digging up John’s ancestors.
The thought of spending an eternity at this site was almost too dark a punishment to imagine. Why in the world had Lewis wanted her to come here in the first place? Then it hit her. Of course.
She doubled her speed, racing across a small bridge spanning the creek that fed Helget Pond and to the parking lot. She punched the number code into the keypad on the driver’s door of her Explorer, opened the door, and climbed in. Fortunately, the cell phone had a good signal. She dialed the number for the UGA Division of Anthropology and Archaeology, muttering under her breath and drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited for an answer. Kate, the division secretary, answered the phone.
“Kate. I want to speak to Lewis, now.”
“Is this Lindsay? How you doing? I think Dr. Lewis is with someone . . .”
“I don’t care if he’s with the President, I want to speak with him.”
“Uh-oh, what’s he done now?”
“Sent me here.”
As Lindsay talked, she caught sight of Marina Ethridge on the front porch talking to someone in the shadows.
“Lindsay.” The too cheerful voice came over the phone. “What can I do for you?”
“Lewis, did you send me here to investigate a crime?”
Chapter 8
The Repo Man
“HAVE YOU FOUND a crime?” Lewis asked.
Lindsay could imagine him sitting behind his polished French provincial desk trying to look innocent. She was in no mood for it.
“Let’s not fence, Lewis. A woman’s family is accusing Drew of murder
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