Chapter 1

1

To say that Ian was star struck when the taxi drove him into the touristy area near the pyramids would be an understatement. Ian O’Donnell had been traveling the world for over a year when he arrived in Giza that late October night. The sun had just set, and rain was coming down. He paid the driver, and added a generous tip.

“You’ll call me if you need me?” the taxi driver asked.

“I will, Amon,” Ian said. “It will probably be a few days.”

“I look forward to receiving your call like you look forward to a Red Sox game.”

Ian smiled. Amon had lived in Boston for some time, and knew the small town outside of it that Ian called home. It was a nice feeling meeting someone who reminded Ian of where he was from.

“You think I’ll do okay here?” Ian asked. “Do you think I’ll get what I want? Do you think I’ll get to do what I told you I wanted to do here?”

Amon seemed to carefully consider Ian before he spoke.

“You’re handsome, and young. Your build is athletic, but medium sized. People like to look at you, but you don’t seem threatening. Your wardrobe looks like something out of an American movie where you are playing a hip archaeologist, and your hair is a raven color that is intoxicating to look at even though I know a hairdresser helped you make it that way. I get the feeling that people often want to help you, Ian, and that you often get what you want. Giza should be no different. We appreciate tourists, and handsome young men.”

“Okay, wow, Amon. You pegged me in about two seconds, and made me feel like a million bucks. If you ever give up being a cab driver, you should consider being a therapist.”

“I tried that,” Amon said. “I like being a cab driver better. I prefer these sorts of interactions with people.”

Ian chuckled, and then realized that he was taking up time Amon could be using to drive other fares. He imagined that with the rain that it could be a lucrative night for Amon.

“Then I’m off,” Ian said, opening the car door, and then his umbrella, as he pushed out into the falling rain.

Ian didn’t mind rain, and he could still see the pyramids in the distance. He stood there, staring like the tourist that he was, awestruck.

I’ve waited so long to see them, he thought, thinking about how he had saved the pyramids for the last part of his journey. When Ian left here, he would be heading home for a while.

There had been several small inns he had found online that looked as if they would meet his needs and his budget. Oddly, the one directly in front of him, Ian couldn’t recall seeing. It didn’t matter. He could still pop his head in and check out the prices.

Ian hurried through the rain and pushed his way through a large door, and into a small lobby. The sun had just gone down, and he needed somewhere to call base camp. There was no big chain hotel for him tonight. No, tonight he needed local flavor, and this place was as close to the pyramids as he thought a small inn might get.

“Looking for some local flavor, are you?” a tall, handsome man asked Ian.

Ian paused for a minute and looked at this man. Everyone was reading him tonight, but this was different; it was just like what his mother did.

“Were you reading my thoughts?” Ian asked, almost flattered at the idea.

He looked the man over. His skin was the color of desert sand, and even in the dark room, it looked amazing against his jet-black hair, and the white dress shirt he wore. His teeth were dazzling, and there was a confidence to him that Ian had rarely seen in anyone.

“Ah, you see enough tourists that you become a mind reader,” the man said, with a disarming smile.

“I guess so,” Ian replied, hoping the man wasn’t figuring out what other thoughts were running through Ian’s mind right now.

“What can I do for you this evening?” the man asked.

“A room for one,” Ian said, placing his umbrella in the tote bag that hung over his shoulder.

While the man was getting Ian’s information and money, Ian looked around the small lobby. It was just the two of them.

“Do you own this place?” Ian asked. “Are you from around here?”

“I’ve lived here for quite some time,” the man said. “My niece owns it. It’s been in my family for many years. I just work the night shift to help her out. Like you, I enjoy traveling.”

“Funny. My cab driver was a traveler too. He had been near my hometown. I’m not far from Boston, in the U.S.”

“I know Boston. It’s a travesty about all the witch burnings so nearby,” the man said, with what appeared to be genuine concern on his face.