Disclaimers: as ever.

Sorry this chapter was so long coming. I've been ridiculously busy, which is a pain, because I am particularly adverse to stress and work…

Thanks for the reviews.

CHAPTER FOUR: SKULDUGGERY

After a few moments Sydney heard Nigel splash into the bath. She smiled to herself mischievously as she pictured him naked amongst the bubbles, but then turned her attention back to other pressing matters.

She dressed quickly and then returned to the door. 'Okay there?" she inquired.

'Mmmmmm.' The reply was contented and slightly sleepy.

'Great. I'm off downstairs. I need to call Giles and then I'll see if I can find out anything about who might have stole our research.'

'Oh…yes,' said Nigel, his mind flashing back from very happy pastures to the relic hunt in hand. 'Tess had some ideas about local thugs being involved. She said she'd have a think…'

'So she does have some use then!' retorted Sydney. 'Although why would local thugs be after historical research? I better go speak to her.'

'Try not to have a cat fight over me!'

'Watch it, Nige!' Sydney's words dripped with a feigned threat. 'Or I'll kick your ass so hard you won't want anybody touching you for a week…'

'Now there's a promise!'

Sydney rolled her eyes. What demon had she awakened? She strolled from the room, casually wondering if they ought to push the single beds together…

………………………..

Sydney made the call as she was climbing down the stairs.

'Giles? Hey, it's Sydney. We've got some bad news. The research has been stolen! Yeah… unbelievable, huh? Have you any idea who it might have been?'

The reply from the other end of the line came quickly: 'No.'

'No idea at all? We think it's somebody who knows about the project. The same person broke into my room last night and tried to attack me. They were wearing white robes…'

There was a moment of silence. 'I really haven't a clue,' said Giles.

Sydney was perplexed. 'Can you come over here? Maybe you'll think of something, and your memory of your own research must be better than ours…'

'I'm sorry,' garbled Giles. 'I am incredibly busy and there's no way I can get away from the museum until at least the day after tomorrow. Possibly next week. Goodbye.'

The line went dead. 'What's his problem?' muttered Sydney. She was racking her brain for a possible explanation, when her attention was caught by a older woman, probably in her late fifties, with shoulder-length, silver grey hair pinned up with butterfly clips, who was just the passing out of the swing doors from the bar. Below a long, blue raincoat, the lady was wearing flimsy, strappy sandals, which instantly reminded Sydney of the robed figure who had been watching them in the woods.

Sydney scrutinised the woman's footwear: they just didn't quite look the same as those worn by the person she chased earlier. Moreover, there was no mud on the shoes, and the ankles seemed slightly thicker, less petite. 'No,' thought Sydney, as she watched the women depart the premises with narrowed eyes. 'That wasn't her. But two people wearing sandals in March, in the English countryside seems kind of strange…'

It was then she noticed that Tess was now hovering in the doorway to the bar, watching her intently.

On catching Sydney's eye, Tess beamed at her with what appeared to be genuine benevolence. 'I heard you were attacked earlier. I wondered if I could help?'

'I don't know,' said Sydney warily. 'Nigel said you might have an idea who was involved?'

'Is Nigel all right?' asked Tess, pulling an expression of doe-eyed concern. 'I was worried about him…'

'He's just peachy,' smiled Sydney through gritted teeth. 'Any ideas about our attackers?'

Tess tossed her flowing, chestnut hair and pulled up the shoulders of her perennially plunging blouse. 'Do you remember that bald guy at the bar yesterday? The so-called 'mayor' of Little Hintock? Well, he's a real thug! He's a property developer and about five years ago he bought swathes of land in the Great Forest - the whole area to the south of the village. He claimed he wanted to preserve it like the rest of the forest, but he then it turned out he wanted to build a theme park! The local council refused him permission to build…but after some toadying and conniving, now he is the local council!'

'He's going to build his theme park?'

Tess shrugged. 'I don't know for certain - all I've heard is local gossip. But I do know that man only cares about money, and if he got wind that you were seeking something valuable…' She nodded and winked, leaving Sydney in no doubt what she was implying.

'That's interesting information,' said Sydney, not letting her guard down for a minute. 'Do you know where he lives?'

'Great Hintock Hall, on the outskirts of the village. But I saw him just a few minutes ago going into the Dog and Fox with that museum chap from Wintoncaster. You know? The man you were talking to yesterday…'

'Yeah, I know. Giles Appleforth!' Sydney's blood boiled. If this hussy was telling the truth, that worm had lied to her! And what was he doing with the mayor? 'Where's the Dog and Fox?' she demanded.

'Just down the lane,' replied Tess helpfully.

'I'm going there now. If my assistant comes down, would you tell him where I've gone?'

'With pleasure!' Tess licked her full, strawberry-glossed lips at the prospect.

Sydney just about contained her desire to give her a good, hard kick to the head. 'Just a little bit of friendly advice…' she hissed. 'Nigel and I… we have a…a 'thing.''

'A 'thing'?' Tess maintained her fixed grin. 'How interesting. I hope that doesn't mean he won't be joining in the Bunny Chase? I thought, as a historian, he'd find it fascinating. '

Sydney smiled sarcastically: 'As a historian, I'm sure he would.'

Something dangerous sparked in Tess's baby-blue eyes. When she spoke, the teasing tones of the flirtatious barmaid had evaporated, substituted by a deep, serious husk: 'History isn't dead, Sydney Fox. You, of all people, should know that. We mustn't forget the ways of our forebears. The spring ritual has celebrated the continuance of life for thousands of years, and affirmed female power…'

'Female power?' interrupted Sydney, mental alarm bells ringing at this unexpected change. 'What has being chased by a guy got to do with that?'

'Things aren't always what they seem,' snarled Tess. 'Surely you know, as well as anybody, the natural power that women have over men…' She broke off suddenly, as if checking herself. Her red lips curled into sarcastic smile, signifying the return of the apparently vacuous barmaid. 'Hadn't you better go find Giles?'

'Yeah,' muttered Sydney. 'I'll be back in a flash.' Her feet did not move, and she found herself reluctant to leave Nigel alone under the same roof as this increasingly enigmatic vixen.

As if reading her mind, Tess affirmed: 'You and Nigel have a 'thing,' then. I'll remember…'

'You do that!' Sydney bolstered her words with a glare of contempt, and finally fled the room.

……………………………………..

It was barely ten minutes later when Nigel appeared down in the bar, looking particularly squeaky clean. His hair was newly dried and fluffy and he was wearing a very cuddly looking woolly, blue jumper with a single white stripe.

'How could any girl resist?' mused Tess as she spied him. 'I don't blame that Fox woman for being so possessive. But if he's 'the one,' then she is going to have to share!'

Nigel crowned his irresistible appeal by appearing slightly lost, his eyes flitting around the quiet bar area in search of Sydney.

'She popped out to meet a guy,' purred Tess as she sauntered over. 'She said she'd be some time…'

In response to Tess's unstoppable advance, Nigel backed timidly towards the leather chair in front of the fire. Once cornered, he had little option but to sink backwards into it.

'What would you like to drink? How about that hot toddy I promised you?'

'Uh… yes, that would be lovely.' Nigel stared straight through her, his mind resting despondently on other issues. The prospect of Sydney 'popping out to meet a guy' bothered him. What if one of Sydney ex's had just drifted into town? Maybe Reiner had been let out of the local jail! A hint of jealousy bubbled up in the pit of his stomach. Surely she wouldn't stir them both up into such a lather of desire, and then just disappear? Or would she?

Before his brooding could descend any deeper, Tess was back, holding a steaming mug of something.

'Hello again, angel…oh!' She spied an interesting bulge in her prey's trousers. 'What on earth is that in your pocket?'

'Uh…it's a hikers GPS system.' Nigel had transferred the tracking device to his clean, dry trousers. He predicted, albeit unenthusiastically, that Sydney would insist they went out again to check on the pony and its doings before bed.

'A hikers GPS system?' She pouted lasciviously. 'I thought you were just pleased to see me!' Nigel groaned internally, and brought out the device to show her, desperately hoping it might provoke conversation on a higher plane of intellectualism.

'What on earth do you need that for in here?' asked Tess, batting her thick, black lashes. 'It is for when you get so drunk you can't find your way to the bar? If it is, don't worry. I can bring you everything you need right here. I'll even help you get to bed… '

Nigel feigned a politely embarassed, but uninterested laugh. 'Uh, no. Sydney and I are using it to keep tabs on a pony. It, um, ate something we need.'

'What did it eat?'

Tess's urgent inquiry urged Nigel towards caution: 'Um…my door-key. For my flat. I've only got the one key, and locksmiths are pricey in the States, you know?' He cringed at how silly this sounded, but it was no less silly than the truth.

'Your door key, eh? And now you're going to have to do wait until it comes out the other end! Poor, angel! What with being attacked, you really have had a bad day.' Remembering the steaming, hot mug in her hand, she finally passed it to him but not without leaning down so that her face was suspended inches from his, her scarlet lips pursed. 'This should make you feel as good as new!'

Nigel received the drink graciously. 'Thank you. You really are very kind…' It was quite evident that Tess wanted a kiss, rather than a verbal thank you. Nevertheless, he didn't quite have the heart to encourage her. It was one thing making Sydney jealous inadvertently, but it was quite another to go out of one's way…

Nigel took a sip of the pleasantly warm and surprisingly thick concoction. Even after he swallowed the first sensuously chocolatey mouthful, something sweet and syrupy lingered, on the back of his tongue imparting a fizzy, tingling sensation. A strong infusion of alcohol gave it a medicinal quality, and a pleasingly hedonistic kick.

As Nigel took his second gulp, Tess's hand shimmered onto his shoulder and began to massage it, causing Nigel to catch a glance of a curiously engraved emerald ring, of some antiquity, worn on her middle finger. It ignited his curiosity, but he found himself uncharacteristically unwilling to inquire about it.

'Do you like it?' asked Tess. Nigel assumed she meant the drink.

'It's wonderful.' His reply was monotonic. He really just wanted her to leave him alone so he could enjoy it in peace.

As if reading his thoughts, she withdrew her uninvited touch. 'In case you're wondering, the magic ingredient is the honey, my sweetheart. Now, I've got work to do. Just you call if you need me.'

Relieved, Nigel responded by politely tipping the glass in her direction.

'Cheers!'

'Bottoms up,' she winked, and shimmied away to serve a young couple at the bar.

……………………………….

By the time Sydney returned, Nigel had drained the entire mug. Spotting him, she sprinted over.

'Nigel… there you are! Giles lied to me. He said was he was out of town and now three people have told me they've seen him around the village in the last few hours. I haven't worked out why, but I think he might be plotting with the mayor to sabotage the hunt!'

Nigel peered up at her blearily: 'Mmmmm? That's nice…'

Sydney perused her assistant. The evidence of his glazed eyes and flushed cheeks pointed strongly in one direction:

'Nigel! You're drunk!' The withering glow in her liquid, brown eyes was tinged with disappointment and yearning. Not only had they got work to do in getting back the relic, she'd been looking forward to working out the other, equally interesting 'issues' that had been raised by the evenings progress. 'Its barely 6 p.m! How much have you had?'

'Jush the one… then everything…shtarted shpinning.' His eyes began to loll shut. Syd extracted the empty mug from its loose grip in his hand just before it dropped the floor.

Forcing his eyes open again, Nigel grimaced apologetically and looked up at her imploringly. Beneath the haze, Sydney detected a genuine perplexity.

Alarm bells rang. She sniffed the glass. 'What did you have?'

This time, Nigel didn't reply. He just stared past her vacantly, a peevish, lopsided grin on his face.

'Come on, Nigel. Tell me what happened!' She slapped him lightly on the cheek and cupped his chin in her hand, trying to force him to look at her.

Nigel giggled, and tried swatting her hand away but missed entirely. 'Tickles…' he muttered, and then his head drooped forward and he passed out entirely.

Sydney was shocked. If this was the effect of one drink, it had clearly been spiked. The obvious suspect was barmaid, Tess, but Sydney had her doubts: what good would Nigel be to her in this condition? Nevertheless, she was about to go and pound any information out of her rival, who was currently nowhere to be seen, when she caught sight of somebody waving at her frantically from outside a window.

Giles, appealing desperately for her attention, confirmed that he had caught her eye and then ducked down and disappeared.

'Damn!' Sydney had no desire to leave Nigel alone, and undefended, in this condition. Spying a respectable looking young couple enjoying a bottle of white wine she barked: 'hi… my friend here's a little worse for wear. Can you make sure he doesn't leave without me?' Nigel didn't look like he was leaving any time soon, so the couple nodded, bewildered. 'Cheers. Back in one sec…' Sydney charged from the room.

Running around the side of the pub, there was no sign of Giles at first. As she was on the verge of tearing her hair out in exasperation, his bear-like blond head popped up from behind a beer barrel.

'Psssst. I'm here!' He had barely finished articulating the words when Sydney grabbed him by the collar and crashed him back against the wall.

'Why did you lie to me?'

'I'm sorry! You mustn't look for Odo's staff any more. It's just too dangerous!'

'Why is it too dangerous? Who's after us… what's that?'

Sydney's attention was diverted by a familiar carved ivory handle poking out of Giles's waistband. She yanked it out and pulled the knife from its scabbard.

'It was you! You could have killed Nigel earlier…'

Sydney was so angry she bore her teeth, and Giles was severely concerned that it was now his throat that was about to be cut.

'No! Please, it wasn't me. It was Henchard – the mayor. He broke into your room, and then he made me help him try and get the research back…'

'So it was you with him in the woods?' Sydney brandished the knife menacingly. 'Why did you help him?'

'Because the Forest Sisterhood are after it. And if they find it, the consequences could be disastrous! They turn grown men into gibbering wrecks… '

'The Forest sisterhood? I think I might have met one of them. And she seemed a lot more peaceful than you and that moron of a mayor! Did you steal their robes?'

Giles nodded timidly. 'Please! Professor Fox, put the knife down and I'll explain. My nerves are shredded as it is!'

'Your friend Henchard didn't seem to care about my assistant's nerves when he had the blade pressed against his throat!'

Sydney's desire to pound more information from the snivelling worm was tempered by the thought of Nigel and the condition she had left him in. Her decision as to what to do next, however, was pre-empted by a loud ringing noise.

'What's that?'

'It must be the pub fire alarm,' blustered Giles.

'Fire Alarm…Nigel!'

Sydney barged off back towards to pub door, dragging the reluctant Giles by his green wax coat.

……………………………………..

Although the pub had been far from full, at least a dozen customers and staff were bustling out as Sydney, jettisoning the deadweight Giles, pushed her way in. They greeted her with warnings and mutters - she was given a particularly funny look by the young couple, still clutching their glasses of white wine - but posed no real obstacle. As she headed for the dark, wood swing-doors that opened into the bar, however, the landlord blocked her way.

'Miss! You can't go in there!'

'You're wrong about that!' Sydney shoved him hard out of the way, and burst in. Nigel was no longer passed out in the high backed leather chair. He was gone.

'Miss!' The call from behind her was now an angry one. 'You must come out! It's only a small pan fire - one of the silly barmaids started it - but you're breaching all my health and safety regulations!'

Sydney turned on him, her patience foundering: 'My friend, Nigel. He was passed out in this chair, and he couldn't have moved on his own. WHERE IS HE?'

Sydney stalked towards the man as she spoke, leaving no doubt about her serious intentions.

'I don't know Miss,' he replied, now unsettled. 'But I expect somebody helped him out. The room was only cleared a minute ago, he can't be far away.'

Sydney's heightened senses discerned the slam of a vehicle door around the back of the pub.

'Damn! So, that's their game!'

'Miss…no! The fire's that way! '

A thin spiral of smoke was emerging from the kitchen door, which represented the quickest way around the back of the pub. Lifting her sleeve to cover her mouth and nose, she charged through the choking smog. Spying an emergency exit hanging open, she headed straight to it and burst out, coughing, into the yard on the other side.

She was just in time to see a small, white van screech off the premises.

'Nigel! No!!!'

Sydney cursed as her instincts told her what she didn't want to hear: Nigel was inside. Whoever they were, they'd got him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

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