Tappan turned toward Digby. “There is one other matter—a slight reorganization of the hierarchy. It would involve a promotion for you.”
Digby nodded obsequiously.
“My people did a cost-benefit analysis of the organization and suggested a new position be created: director of institutional development. Reporting directly to Dr. Weingrau. You’ll be able to put your not-inconsiderable social skills to work getting the right word out—to the right people—about the Institute and its funding needs.”
Digby thought quickly. The offer almost felt like being thrown a life preserver. With the endowment safe, and the capital improvement project back on track…The title sounded important, and he might never have to get his hands dirty again on a dig, or slap mosquitoes, or sleep in a tent.
He nodded vigorously.
“Nora, as occupant of the Tappan Chair, will assume leadership of the archaeological division in its entirety—as executive director. She will report directly to the board.” Tappan looked around. “Any questions? Thoughts?”
There were none. Weingrau struggled to speak. “Again, Mr. Tappan, we’re so very grateful for your generosity.”
“Excellent!” Tappan cried. “In that case, I don’t want to take up more of your valuable time. It’s twelve thirty. Do you know, spending money always makes me hungry. With both of you at the helm, the Institute will be in great hands going forward.”
“Thank you.”
“And I know Nora must be excited about taking over as chief archaeologist—and figuring out what fabulous expeditions and projects might come next, given an unlimited budget and complete control.”
“I confess I am, at that,” Nora said.
Tappan and Nora rose together, said their goodbyes, and walked out of the building into the New Mexico sunshine. A minute later, they were in the parking lot, where Tappan’s ice-blue Tesla was waiting.
“I remember this place,” Tappan said, stopping abruptly on the gravel. “You called me an asshole here once.”
“We ought to put up a plaque.” Nora looked around, squinting against the sun. “But shouldn’t we be going? You said spending money makes you hungry.”
“Oh, I’m quite hungry. Ravenous, in fact. But…not for lunch.”
Nora looked at him. “Why…you naughty man.” And she slapped his face…but very gently, and with considerable affection.
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About the Authors
The thrillers of DOUGLAS PRESTON and LINCOLN CHILD “stand head and shoulders above their rivals” （Publishers Weekly）。 Preston and Child’s Relic and The Cabinet of Curiosities were chosen by readers in a National Public Radio poll as being among the one hundred greatest thrillers ever written, and Relic was made into a number-one box office hit movie. They are coauthors of the famed Pendergast series, and their recent novels include Bloodless, The Scorpion’s Tail, Crooked River, Old Bones, and Verses for the Dead. In addition to his novels, Douglas Preston writes about archaeology for the New Yorker and National Geographic magazines. Lincoln Child is a Florida resident and former book editor who has published seven novels of his own, including such bestsellers as Full Wolf Moon and Deep Storm.
Readers can sign up for The Pendergast File, a monthly “strangely entertaining note” from the authors, at their website, PrestonChild.com. The authors welcome visitors to their alarmingly active Facebook page, where they post regularly.