The Exodus Quest

III

Knox felt a mild but distinctly illicit thrill as he typed in the web address of Gaille's Digging Diary. He made the occasional visit, curious to know what she was up to. He found it strangely comforting. And this morning, with everything he'd been through, he hankered for that comfort more than usual.

A new thumbnail photograph had been uploaded. Gaille standing outside her room with two of Fatima's Egyptian staff, smiling happily in the sunshine, their friendship and good spirits obvious. He clicked on it; it began to download. He pulled up a second browser while he was waiting, reopened her email.

I miss you too.

That 'too' intrigued him. He'd clearly said it first. It was true enough, of course. It was just that he was surprised he'd said it. Ever since they'd become partners, he'd been scrupulous about not letting his personal feelings affect their professional relationship. Gaille's father had been his mentor after all. His death had left Knox in a strange position. He felt a certain responsibility to her, almost as though he was in loco parentis.

The way her hair tumbled when she turned her head. The brush of her fingertips on his forearm as she steered him across the street. There was nothing in loco parentis about that.

The photograph finally came up. He was staring at it when he saw a shadowy reflection in the screen, a man in a motorcycle helmet creeping up behind him. He whirled around, but too late. The man grabbed him like a straitjacket, pinioning his arms down by his side. He lashed out with his heels and elbows and the back of his head, but to no effect. The man was too strong for him. He dragged Knox out through the open glass doors onto the concrete balcony, then lifted him bodily and hurled him over the rail and out screaming into space.