CHAPTER TWELVE

"It's okay," said Elena, looking at the men around her. "There wasn't much left in the apartment anyway. I took all of my clothes to Daphne's. But I have no idea what they were looking for."

"We're pretty sure it has something to do with your father, honey," said Major. "The guys will be back soon, and we can start to look through some of the items."

"You said that Dr. Hijad had some books that made you think something strange was going on, that could include my father. What were the books about?" asked Elena.

"His wife said he'd never had an interest in history or antiquities before. He wasn't a weekend archaeologist. He didn't even like planting in the garden. Yet he had eleven books on biblical excavations."

"Biblical?" she whispered. "That wasn't my father's specialty. He never even uttered those words."

"They might not have been his, but they were words that Dr. Yasmin Goldmeir used often," said Luke.

"Dr. Goldmeir? No," she laughed. "No. My father wouldn't have worked with her; I can assure you."

"She was in those tunnels with him, Elena. She was one of the people killed when the tunnel collapsed." She shook her head, frowning at the others.

"This can't be. They disagreed on everything. She felt certain that Jesus had spent time in Egypt after the time of the pharaohs, and my father didn't believe it. They used to argue about it publicly."

"Something must have changed," said Eric.

"This is all so confusing. My father didn't want anything to do with biblical archaeology. He said it was too controversial, and although it may have proven the existence of a certain sect of people and the existence of a man believed to be named Jesus, it wouldn't prove miracles."

Matthew and Irene were seated a few tables away, staring at the young woman with curiosity. Gaspar noticed his father and wondered if he was going to say something or perhaps argue with the woman. It wasn't his nature, but then again, this was his topic.

"May I ask you," said Matthew, "what do you believe?"

"Well, sir. I've read all of Dr. Goldmeir's work, and she was brilliant. She found some extremely convincing evidence and promising clues."

"But what do you believe?" asked Irene softly.

"I-I believe there was a man named Jesus. I believe he was crucified by the Romans. I believe that he had followers and that, whether science or miracle, he did things that others could not. Beyond that, only my heart can answer."

"And what does your heart say?" asked Matthew with an angelic smile. She smiled back at him, shaking her head.

"Forgive me, but you are an extraordinarily beautiful man for being a great-great-grandfather."

"No forgiveness needed for a compliment."

"I believe he was real. I think there's too much that is unexplained to not believe he's real. Even Dr. Goldmeir, who was Jewish, believed he was a real man with the ability to perform miracles."

"That's all I wanted to hear," smiled Matthew. "We can all believe in different things. That's okay. But at some point, we have to admit that there is a possibility."

They heard commotion at the door of the cafeteria, and Chris, Travis, and Carter walked in, rolling two huge carts with the boxes stacked high.

"You found them!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, ma'am, we did. Your apartment didn't offer us much to bring back," said Carter. "We're sorry, Elena."

"No, it's alright. There wasn't anything there." Carter and Travis stared at Luke and Major, then back at the woman. "What? What is that look for?"

"The two men who ransacked your apartment were inside when we got there. Before we could question them, someone shot an arrow through their necks. Now, bows and arrows aren't my expertise, but that was one helluva shot. Two shots, to be exact," said Travis.

"They're my expertise," said Eagle Feather, coming toward them. Elena stared at the man, then back at the others. He was different. Cloudy.

"Uh, Elena, this is Eagle Feather. One of our ghosts on the property," said Major.

"A ghost? Like, really? I mean, a real ghost?"

"Yes," nodded Eagle Feather with a smile. "I was murdered on this property many centuries ago."

"Remarkable," she whispered, reaching out to touch his sleeve. It was cold, but she could feel the fabric of his buckskin.

"You're not shocked," smiled Eric.

"No. I mean, not really. Listen, I've spent my entire life looking for remnants of the dead, hoping that a pharaoh would wake and speak to me, tell me all his secrets, where the treasure was hidden," she laughed. "The fact that you have ghosts here to talk about history is remarkable."

"Modern bows are, of course, different than what I used, but the premise is the same," said Eagle Feather. "The men or women would have had to have great strength, keen eyes, and steady hands. How far was the shot?"

"If we assume they made it from across the street, about fifty feet, give or take. We figured they were on the same floor in the building across the street, since the arrow went straight through, no angle."

"Then the shot would have been easy for a skilled bowman," said Eagle Feather. "But I might suggest you find out what the other building is used for. Perhaps there were cameras, or it has something to do with the owners of the building."

"Good point," smirked Eric. "Thank you, Eagle Feather." He nodded and walked toward Genevieve, hugging her.

"Your ghosts can have relationships?" frowned Elena.

"Yes," laughed Luke. "It's a strange place we live in, but many of our ghosts have relationships. Only recently have they been able to touch us, and we touch them. They can also eat and drink our food."

"Remarkable."