“How can I get to them?” I asked, and he glanced around, as if searching for signs of a superior in the area.
“You don’t.” He started to mop again, placing an earpiece back in.
I set a hand on the mop handle. “We can pay you. Do you know where they are?”
“I don’t want to lose my job,” he said in Spanish. “It’s not allowed.”
“Are they on the premises?”
He shrugged, playing it casual. “I might know where they are.”
“Maybe your mop bucket has a faulty spring. What if you were looking for a spare…”
He smacked his lips and glanced at Marcus suspiciously. “How much?”
Marcus grabbed my arm and leaned in. “Rex. We give this guy a few bucks, he’ll go to the break room and call security on us.”
“What choice do we have?”
The man was getting tired of this charade, and he started to drift away from us. I named the price, casually saying it, and he stopped in his tracks, turning with a grin on his face. “Show me the money.”
I had some on me, in case a situation arose like this. Money speaks, and this man was listening. I passed it over discreetly, and to his credit, he didn’t even look at it, just folded it into his shirt pocket. I reasoned counting money in public would be a mistake you only made once.
“What locker number?”
I hated giving him my only copy but didn’t have a choice. “3B19.”
The number was stamped on the key, and he slid it into his pants. “Espera aquí.” Wait here.
We watched him take off, rolling his bucket of murky water, and I felt like we’d never see him again. Marcus bought us coffees, and I picked at a muffin while we waited. My duffel bag was between my feet, and I kept glancing at it, wondering if customs would give me any issues with the cube we’d acquired. I’d been through enough security stations around the world to know that the level of scrutiny varied. This didn’t look valuable, and I doubted it would end up being a dilemma.
An hour later, Marcus started to grow restless. “Check out the line. It’s getting out of hand, and this guy hasn’t come back. I bet he’s laughing about the gullible tourists and drinking a beer with his pals.”
He was probably right, but I didn’t want to give up quite yet. The second I started to consider joining the security queue, I saw the janitor strolling across the tiled floor, pushing a cart with cleaning supplies on it. He whistled, his eyebrows lifting as he spotted us.
“Did you find it?” I asked him in Spanish.
“Si.”
“Well?”
He returned the key first, and I shoved it away shakily. What had he found? The janitor pulled out his phone, flipping it toward us. The first image showed a locker, stacked in the corner of a dark room, and I noticed the embedded number on the open door. 3B19.
He flipped to another but pulled the phone away. “I think you’ll pay more for this.”
Marcus didn’t speak Spanish, but he seemed to pick up the man’s tone. “Tell this guy to show us already. We’re running low on time. And patience.”
“Show us and I’ll pay, if it’s what we’re after.”
He shrugged, offering the picture. The locker was empty.
“Damn it.” My shoulders slumped, and Marcus snatched the man’s phone before he could react.
“Wait.” He zoomed in, and I leaned closer. There were numbers scratched into the door. Coordinates.
The janitor reached for his phone, but Marcus sidestepped. A minute later, he tossed it to the man and pulled a few bucks from his pocket, handing it over. “I’ve taken a copy and removed it from your cloud. Go to the locker and scratch those details from the door. Lock the door and chuck the key.” I translated for Marcus, and the guy stared at the money and nodded, licking his lips. He took off as Marcus reached for his own phone, clicking the new message. “I wiped my deets from his phone too. We were never here.” He glanced at the ceiling. “You know, unless someone has access to their surveillance.”
“These are coordinates,” I whispered, staring at the phone.
He clicked it off and started for the line-up. “They are. And there are six of them.”
My heart pounded as we maneuvered through the airport. I couldn’t wait to return home and see what we learned from a blurry photo taken in a dark storage room.
____________
I glanced at the clock, realizing only ten minutes had passed since I’d checked. I’d made it home in time for Tuesday’s final exams, so I’d decided to offer my services to Jessica. She’d been angry with me, and the last thing I needed was an irate boss.
Plus, Marcus was struggling at my place to locate the sixth destination. The first five had been simple, the numbers clearly identified by Marta’s father’s crisp knifework on the inside of the locker. The lowest one had been the sloppiest, whether he was rushed, or whether he couldn’t find the proper angle from a standing position. Either way, we didn’t have the coordinates for the sixth Token, and without it, what use was looking for the other five?
I thought about the boxy metal holder and imagined my father grasping it as he placed the artifacts into the slots along its sides.
A paper dropped to the desk I sat behind, and I looked up to see an unfamiliar student walking away, heading for the gymnasium’s exit. There were five different exams going on simultaneously, with the students spaced apart to mitigate any risk of cheating.
I had two hours before the buzzer would ring, ending the students’ time with their final test for the semester. Many of the young adults were struggling, nervously tapping their feet, chewing the end of their pencils, playing with their bangs. I remembered what it was like feeling the strain of college at a time like this, mixed with the anxiety of going home for the holidays, with the ever-present vacant seat at the end of the table where Dad used to sit. Meals were always quiet, with Christmas music playing in the background and Mom drinking white wine.
Another student walked up, and she smiled at me as she set her test on the desk. Economics. I’d always hated courses like that. They were too mundane for me. I wanted adventure, mysteries explained, history to show us where we came from. Researching GDP and graphs with theoretical dollar values and calculations had never been my forte.
It was snowing outside again, and I stared at the dark midday through the window, feeling like I hadn’t seen the sun since we’d returned from Venezuela. Snow blanketed the courtyard outside the gym.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.
Beverly: Rex, are you coming for Christmas or not?
I bristled. It was a couple weeks away yet, and she was pressing for an answer. There were other messages, and I scrolled through them.
Hunter Madison: You owe me an explanation. What did you find?
I’d ignored every communication from Hunter so far. I knew he’d be pissed, but I had to figure out just what precise details I wanted to share.
Richard: You okay? I don’t like that you left so abruptly the other night. Call me.
Doctor Richard Klein had already left three voicemails since my disappearance from his dinner party, and I wasn’t in the mood to tell him why I’d vanished, or that I was tired of his endless attempts to convert me to Harvard.
I rubbed my temples, the pressure building up. It was like the nervous energy of the two hundred students was encapsulating me, threatening to burst. I took a deep inhale, hearing the scratching of pencils across stapled pages, and replied to my sister.
Rex: I hate to do this to you, but I can’t commit. The school has decided to send me on an expedition, and I don’t know how long it’ll last.
I stared at it for a few moments before hitting send. I didn’t enjoy lying to her, but if she had any inclination of my plans, she’d drive to my house and handcuff me to the radiator.
I waited for a response, but none came. I could picture her cheeks growing red in anger, her lips pursing as she hastily typed a furious reply. Then her
better judgment would take hold, and she’d delete it, returning the phone to her purse.
Before I put the cell away, I sent one note to Marcus. I’d left him alone for hours, but curiosity and dread forced me to contact him.
Rex: Any luck?
Marcus: …
I watched the screen, impatiently wanting a positive response. The dots vanished, and I slumped in the seat as a thickset bearded man set his completed exam on the desk.
The two hours passed with the slowness one could only experience in a doctor’s waiting room or at a traditional Italian orthodox wedding. The seconds dripped away, one tick at a time, until the buzzer finally sounded. Only a dozen students remained scattered among the empty desks, and I smirked as one set his head on the exam paper, his pencil rolling onto the floor.
“Time’s up. Please bring your exams to the front. I hope you have a well-deserved break.” I stood, feeling the stiffness in my back, and saw Jessica waiting at the gym’s exit.
The students shuffled out, and Jessica entered, her heels clicking on the wooden planks. “Thank you for stepping in today. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“It was no problem at all,” I assured her.
“That’s it. The last of the exams. School is officially out of session.”
“What are you doing for the holidays?” I asked her, gathering the tests. There were five piles, and I spun them around, making sure not to mix them up.
“Nothing much. My parents have decided to go for a cruise again this year, and after much insisting, I had to decline.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“I’ve never been one for confined spaces with hundreds of other people. Plus, I don’t have the best sea legs.” She grinned as she said it, and if her intention had been for me to peek at her long, stocking-covered legs, it worked.
I really didn’t need a distraction at the moment. I was about to walk past her when she set a hand on my chest. “You owe me a dinner. Remember?”
I checked the clock, seeing it was four. “Rain check?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were blowing me off. It’s okay, I don’t expect you to drop everything and make the time.” She lowered her hand, stepping back a few feet. “I may have come on a little strong, and dating isn’t permitted. Especially in my position, but there’s something about you that intrigues me.”
I hadn’t seen anyone following me since we’d returned, and suddenly, I had the urge to check her wrist for a tattoo. I was being rash. Jessica had an exemplary record and was the youngest president in the college’s history, not to mention a woman, which was also a first for this establishment. I doubted she was overly interested in beings from another planet.
My phone buzzed, and she glanced at my pocket. “Go ahead.”
I gave an apologetic smile and grabbed it, tapping on a reply from Marcus.
Marcus: Still trying. Gonna be an all-nighter.
I frowned and sent a quick message. I’ll be a while. Dinner with Jessica.
Marcus: You dirty old dog… I hope you…
I exited the program, not finishing his response. “Dinner would be great.”
She started away, and despite my anxiety to go home and begin planning our next move, I had to admit, she was going to be a nice distraction.
____________
Jessica had picked a quiet spot, not what I expected from someone of her stature. I guessed Jessica came from money, with a large colonial to match, so her choice of a quaint Lebanese place didn’t quite fit with my image of her.
We were still in our formal work attire, her in a smart black pencil skirt and white blouse. I had a navy blazer with a salmon shirt underneath, and jeans. Since it was just exam babysitting, I’d opted out of the tie today, and I was glad as I glanced around the half-empty restaurant.
“Are you good with this?” she asked as the waitress led us to our table. The middle-aged woman had a smile only an owner could muster at work as she passed our menus out.
“It’s perfect. I’ve been meaning to try it after work one day, but haven’t yet.”
The waitress asked if we wanted any drinks.
“Turkish coffee for me,” Jessica said, and I was relieved she hadn’t suggested wine.
I didn’t know if this was a real date or something Jessica liked to do with the newer staff members, even after her earlier comment. “I’ll have the same.”
The woman wandered off, stopping at the table two down to remove empty plates.
Jessica looked relaxed, more so than I’d ever seen her. “Do you live near the college?” I asked.
“No. I drive in, but I like the commute. As much as I feel married to my work, I prefer to be able to turn it off when I need to. Being too close to the office reminds me of how much I could be doing. My first year, I decided to rent an apartment within walking distance, and I couldn’t pull myself out of there most nights. After a run-in with burnout, I thought it best to give up the second home and make the drive.” Jessica lowered her hand from the table as the coffees came, and I was greeted with the rich aroma of the unfiltered grounds. It was a good thing Marcus had said we’d be up for hours, because I’d be bouncing off the walls by the time I got to the townhouse.
“What about you?” she asked. “Where are you at?”
“Had the same townhouse for years. Can’t seem to part with it.”
“Does it ever get lonely?” she asked, her focus shifting to her cup as she sipped from it.
“Living alone?” It was a little bit of a probing question, but I didn’t mind. “Sure. Who doesn’t? And you?”
“I was married for a time,” Jessica admitted.
“Has it been a while?”
“Donovan and I were too young. Fresh out of college, and full of dreams and aspirations. He was in law school, and… things fell apart.” Jessica ran a finger over the menu, and I browsed as well. When the waitress arrived, I nodded at Jessica.
“I’m going to let the lady choose the meal tonight.”
Jessica was used to taking charge, so I didn’t think she’d mind. She ordered what seemed like far too much food, but I kept that to myself.
“And you?” she asked. “Why is Rexford Walker single?”
“Me? Not much to tell. I’ve had some relationships—some close calls, if you will—but nothing quite so drastic as love.”
“I heard rumors about you before I hired you, Rex,” she told me with a smirk.
“Is that so?” I took a drink, the caffeine seeming to hit me straight away.
“That you were bullheaded and opinionated. Challenging to work with, and not much for following the rules.” She said it quietly, and I watched her, trying to understand where she was going with this. “But what I see is a smart man with passion for his craft. It’s been so long since we had a real archaeologist on staff, with dirt under his nails and sweat on his brow. This school is my passion, Rex, so I can understand why you’re always looking to the next thing.”
“Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”
She didn’t smile, just leaned in slightly. “You are perceptive. Are the rumors true?”
“The ones about Professor Hughes and that student?” I joked, trying to change the topic.
“See, there it is. The disregard for authority I mentioned.”
This was taking a hard turn in the wrong direction. “I thought we were two contemporaries having a nice dinner together.” I went to stand up, but her grip wrapped around my wrist, urging me into my seat.
“We are, Rex. Stay put. I didn’t mean anything by it.” She said it so casually that I let it go.
Jessica’s smile returned, and she ripped a piece of the pita. “You have to try this hummus.”
“I will when you tell me what you were talking about,” I said.
“Whatever happened with Fiji?”
“It fell through,” I replied.
“That’s funny, because I had my secretary do some investigating, and the
re don’t seem to be any active petitions in their system.” Jessica dipped more of the pita into the creamy hummus.
I relaxed a little. It didn’t sound like she knew anything about my real purpose, just that I’d been lying about Fiji in the first place.
“I’m sorry about that. I made it up. I’ve been dealing with a family issue, and didn’t want to air my dirty laundry. I was there for the exams regardless,” I reminded her, and she nodded. “You don’t have to worry about me, Jessica. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Anything I should be worried about?”
“Huh?
“The family issue,” she said.
“No. It’s settled.”
“Good. That’s a relief. Despite how this appears, I have been wanting to spend some time with you outside the office. Can we start over?” She looked so innocent, her voice like honey, and I nodded against my better judgment.
I tried the hummus, and it was as wonderful as advertised. I attempted to put the stress of what was forming in my mind for a while but couldn’t shake the feeling that this was my last supper.
____________
I set the keys on the side table near my door, and Marcus glanced up from the glow of his laptop. He was at the island, in his usual spot, and he closed the computer. He looked as tired as I felt.
“Anything?” I asked. I knew he’d been out of luck; otherwise, he would have texted me earlier.
“Nope. Let’s face it. It’s impossible to decipher that sixth coordinate. We have five, though. I mean, we’re far closer to the truth than before,” he told me. I peered at his shirt, seeing an old comic book dog sleeping on his house.
I took off my jacket, draping it across the couch, and sat beside him. “What’s next? Hunter’s getting impatient. If we’re going to do this, we need his funding.”
Marcus gave me a sly grin. “More importantly, how was your date?”
I laughed. Marcus always found a way to ease the tension in a room. “It was… good. She’s quite the woman, but I don’t have time for that.”
“I’ve seen Jessica. She’s…” Marcus stopped himself when he saw my expression.
Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Page 12
