“No…well, not completely. He’s ok. We won’t be looking for UFOs if that’s what you’re thinking.” Sean gave a reassuring smile.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang and their smiles turned instantly to concern. Quickly, he grabbed the letters and stuffed them into his inner jacket pocket and stepped over to the door. Allyson leaned close behind him as he peeked around the door.
Around the edge, they could see Mrs. Borringer open the front door. Sean listened intently to a man’s voice on the other side of the door. It sounded like the guy said something about being with the police. He wondered to himself if it were the mysterious Jurgenson, but these thoughts were answered as a black man in a tan jacket walked through the door, putting his wallet and identification into a coat pocket as he crossed the threshold.
Mrs. Borringer politely asked him if he would like something to drink. The lady must treat all visitors like friends. Sean pulled himself away from the door. He whispered, “We have to get out of here. That’s gotta be Detective Morris, the guy that called me earlier from the Atlanta PD. If he is looking for clues, he will want to see this room.”
“How are we going to leave without him seeing us?”
“Mrs. B is still talking to him.” Sean paused for a moment to make sure he was right. Then he whispered, “Let’s move across the hall to the bedroom. He won’t have any reason to go in there.”
Allyson nodded in agreement. Sean peered around the corner of the doorway again. Down below, the detective was saying something about Dr. Borringer’s research. Silently, the two made their way across the hallway into the master bedroom. Upon entering it, they realized that it was much more tastefully decorated than the hodgepodge of the rest of the house.
The walls were painted a warm tan color with dark wooden nightstands and dressers. A large oak armoire rested in the corner, with intricate carvings of floral and forest themes on the front.
Sean motioned to the master bathroom and the two of them quickly darted to the open door. Back in the hallway, the voices of Detective Morris and Mrs. Borringer grew louder as they climbed the stairs.
Tucking in around the corner of the bathroom, Sean inched his head forward to see across the hall.
“This is where your husband kept all of his research?” The detective asked.
“Yes sir.” She continued on, answering the man’s question the same way she had answered Sean’s earlier.
“What are they doing?” The tension was too much for Allyson.
Sean motioned for her to be quiet with his finger while the two in the other room disappeared from view, apparently looking through some of the things on the desk. A few minutes passed. Suddenly, the detective appeared in the doorway again. Sean quickly ducked back behind the bathroom doorway, unsure if the he’d been seen.
He heard the man comment on the nicely decorated bedroom, obviously looking inside. Apparently, Sean’s and Allyson’s presence was unknown because the cop was still talking with Mrs. Borringer about her late husband’s work. The voices continued to move further away and down the stairs.
Leaving their bathroom hiding place, the two fugitives went to the doorway leading into the hall. Downstairs, Mrs. Borringer politely escorted Morris to the door. He thanked her for her courtesy and invited her to call if she could think of anything he might need to know.
Sean and Allyson heard the front door close and looked at each other, breathing a sigh of relief. They’d caught a huge break not getting caught.
“We’d better get going,” he stated.
“No argument here,” she agreed as they stood and exited the bedroom.
Chapter 18
The gray sedan sped along the interstate heading toward the rural town of Cartersville. Every few minutes or so, Sean would glance in the rear view mirrors to make certain no one was following them. A couple of times, he thought he had seen a car changing lanes with him, but then the vehicle turned off of an exit a few minutes later. He hadn’t survived this long by being careless, and the people they were up against had to be considered extremely dangerous.
Even though Sean suspected the worst, something told him that his friend was ok for now.
Allyson interrupted his thoughts as if she could see inside his head, “I’m sure Tommy is still alive.” A sincere smile accompanied the hopeful words.
He appreciated the sentiment. And most of him believed his friend was indeed alive. Still… “Logic would think that he is alright. If whoever kidnapped him wanted him dead they would have already done it, like with Frank.” Sean shook off the thought, “No, they need him for something.”
“But what is it?”
“The only thing I can figure is whoever took Tommy can’t decipher the clues. I guess they think that he can. He knows more about the Golden Chambers than anyone else in the world. If anyone needed someone to help unravel the mystery, Tommy would be the go-to guy.”
He clicked his left blinker and swerved around a mini-van with a soccer-ball sticker on the back. There was no hiding his cynical smile. She, apparently, didn’t notice.
“I don’t understand,” she began again. “If these Golden Chambers do exist, why hasn’t anyone ever found them? It’s got to be hard to hide four giant, golden rooms for so many centuries.”
“Not really. I mean, think about it, every single day there is a new historical discovery somewhere in the world. Entire cities that were once thriving metropolitan areas of the ancient world are being uncovered as we speak. Whole cultures that disappeared suddenly are found under the very ground people walk across everyday.”
“I guess.” She was half convinced, a smirk on her face.
He gave her an equally teasing look. “I’m just saying, there is a world of stuff out there that hasn’t been found. That’s why the IAA exists.”
“So, let me get this straight, you guys look all over the world for random historical artifacts that no one else knows are there? That pretty much right?”
“Yep.”
“But your organization does other stuff, too, doesn’t it?”
Sean looked at her for a moment, at least glad that he didn’t have to explain the whole story to her. “Yeah,” he said as he turned the Maxima off the interstate and onto the exit. “We do a lot of charitable work, but one of our main functions is in the area of education.” The car turned right off the ramp and onto a two-lane road heading into the foothills of northwestern Georgia.
“Do you go into schools and talk about ancient treasures and all that?”
A small chuckle escaped his mouth. “Sometimes. The kids certainly like to hear about those kinds of things. When you go into a school and tell young people about some of the things that we have discovered, they get excited about history. That’s how we hook ‘em.” Sean smiled at his final remark.
“Everyone gets excited about treasure,” she responded.
“Of course. But the more important part of what we do in relation to education has to do with the establishment of the Georgia Historical Center.”
“It was quite an impressive accomplishment just to get the real estate for that in the middle of downtown Atlanta.” Now the reporter inside of her was coming out a little.
“Well, we had a few very generous contributors.”
“Like Tommy Schultz?”
He gave her a curious glance, but said nothing.
“Oh, come on. Everyone knows that Tommy inherited a ton of money when his family died, and shortly after, you guys started up the IAA and purchased the land near Centennial Olympic Park. That stuff is no secret.”
“We had some generous donations from several contributors. That’s all I am going to say about it. Of course, we did receive some large grants for the project, as well.”