Buried Secrets Kristi Belcamino (uplifting novels .txt) 📖

driver met her eyes in the rearview mirror. There was no mistaking the dirty look he gave her.

At the same time, a car flew in the intersection before them obviously running the red light it had.

The driver gave her a smug look and then punched the gas, propelling them through the intersection just in time to avoid the car behind them. That driver had slammed on his brakes and came skidding to a stop right at the spot where they had just been.

Dallas’s heart was racing and she found she was clutching Colton’s hand, her fingernails digging into his palm. He looked ashen, as well and his other hand was clutching the arm rest on the door.

Meanwhile, Abet was still talking as if nothing had happened.

“Holy smokes, Abet. What’s up with our psycho, dress-wearing driver?”

“Dress? It’s a jellabiya—the most comfortable clothing I own. When I am not working as an interpreter it’s all I wear.” He turned to Colton. “You must try one on while you are here. The freedom! The comfort! Keeps you cool everywhere. You know what I mean? Best part of living in Egypt. Hands down.”

Dallas sputtered. “What? I’m talking about the driving. The dress—I mean jellabiya—is fine. Kinda cute, actually.””

Abet laughed. “Kamil has come with the highest recommendation. I don’t get into any cars in Egypt with anyone who isn’t proven to be safe.”

“He stopped at a red light. He nearly got us into a head-on accident. And now, he’s driving like a maniac at more than twenty miles over the speed limit.”

Abet raised an eyebrow. “Speed limit?”

“Okay, I made that last part up, but you know what I mean.”

“He stopped at the light because lights don’t mean anything. Did you see the other car run the red light? If we had not stopped your side of the car would be smashed to bits. He passed the car because otherwise we might have been rear-ended by another vehicle who was going even faster than us and the car he passed. And nearly doesn’t count. What do they say in America? Close only counts in horseheads and hand grenades.”

“Horseheads!” Colton burst into laughter. “Horse shoes!”

Abet gave him a skeptical look. “Horse shoes?”

“Horse heads?”

“I admit, it never made sense to me, but what do I know? And horse shoes makes no more sense to me than horse heads,” Abet said.

“Horseshoes is a game,” Dallas said. She laughed and explained.

“Aha. Now I see.”

“So basically, all drivers are insane in Egypt?” Colton said.

“They say if you can live through driving in Egypt you can drive anywhere in the world safely.”

“Good to know,” Dallas said. “But you might have to find me some valium for our next trip. I don’t know if my nerves can take it.”

Every time the driver passed by a car, whether it was literally passing it, or if the other car was waiting to get on the road, there was honking involved.

Each time, it startled Dallas from her thoughts.

“What’s up with the honking.”

“It is communication between the drivers.” Abet said.

“Whatever.” She leaned her head back on Colton’s shoulder and closed her eyes. It was better that way. Otherwise, if she paid attention to the road in front of them, she was going to end up a nervous wreck by the time they got to Taposiris.

Abet was telling Colton how Taposiris Magna was situated on the edge of Lake Mariout. He was growing angry speaking about how the once fresh water lake now was brackish because during Napoleonic times, the British had destroyed a sea wall and flooded the lake with water from the Mediterranean. In doing so the resultant flooding from sea water that destroyed 150 Egyptian villages. Apparently, he had familial ties to one of the villages that was destroyed.

He gave a large sigh. “I supposed it was what forced my ancestors to move to Cairo, which probably led to us being educated and not peasants.”

“But still!” Colton was indignant. Dallas smiled. He’d always had a soft spot for the natives of a land who were trod on by invaders. If you wanted to raise his ire, just bring up how Native Americans were treated by settlers. Dallas loved that passionate side of him.

As the two men’s voices faded into murmurs in the background, Dallas drifted off into her own thoughts, laying out her plan of attack once they reached the temple.

First, she’d find the highest ground on the site and survey it from there. There was a good chance that if Cleopatra was buried there, her tomb was oriented with the way the sun rose and set so Dallas would figure that out first. The ancient Egyptians cared about stuff like that, Dallas thought.

People were buried facing west, toward the setting sun, because they believed that the sun God, Ra, needed to help them reach the afterlife. They believed that the sun god set every night and was reborn every morning at dawn. They viewed sun rays as stairways to heaven.

After surveying from the highest point, she’d make a broad circle around the temple starting at the furthest edge and moving in closer in concentric circles. Dallas wasn’t sure what she hoped to find from this first visit, but she’d know it when she saw it.

Excitement surged through her and she tensed. It must have been obvious because Colton stopped what he was saying and turned to her. “Everything okay?”

“Just excited.”

He smiled and Dallas suddenly wanted to lean over and kiss him again.

What the hell was wrong with her? She was on the brink of possibly the most exciting discovery in her life and instead was thinking about kissing a guy. Lame.

She turned away before he did, staring straight ahead out the front windshield. The landscape was whizzing by. Thank God they seemed to be the only car on the road so she didn’t have to fear for her life. Or at least hadn’t had to for at least twenty minutes.

Soon they pulled off the road and onto a smaller road. The driver stopped at