Deader Than a Mummy

The death of Professor Henry Baxter, renowned Egyptologist and longtime darling of the local historical society, sent seismic tremors through the usually staid New Bremen Museum. The morning had started as any other: A field trip of middle graders being herded through ancient pottery, a trio of retirees evaluating the quality of the Roman glass, and a handful of staff moving placidly through their routines, until, shortly after ten, the museum was cracked open by the kind of shriek only a teenager in peril could produce.
It was Cassidy James and her best friend Lara Winters who found the body, sprawled across the floor in the museum's Egyptian Antiquities Room. Cassidy's sneakers squeaked on the marble floor as she skidded to a halt, camera already raised-her first instinct was to photograph, her second to call for help. Lara, meanwhile, froze with a mosaic of reactions flickering across her face: Horror, fascination, the faintest quiver of satisfaction at having her suspicions confirmed.
After a breathless moment, both girls screamed, a sound so piercing and layered with terror that it sent a murder of pigeons flapping from the museum's eaves.