Artifacts

by Bailey Bradford

  They were both silent for half the drive back to central San Antonio, Darrell at the wheel this time.

  “You know, no one saw anyone attack that assistant with the nerd name. No one saw anyone in the alley or heard the stuff getting destroyed.” Sean didn’t look at Darrell as he spoke.

  “So you think it could be a ghost? Like Buck Buckman’s stuff is cursed? Oh. Maybe we should stop off at a church, get a man of the cloth’s opinion? Even take him on as a consultant for the case?” Darrell kept up the act for a few more seconds before sniggering. “Sean, fuck’s sake!” He’d needed that light relief. “Guess I’ll pay the store a visit. Let them know Randa the widow will probably be burning up the phone lines, trying to buy back the items she sold them.”

  “Hey, with advance warning, they can tell her they got another buyer interested, jack up the re-sale prices. And if they do, they should cut you in for a piece.”

  “And me cut you in, yeah?” Darrell couldn’t not laugh, partnering Sean. They had an easy relationship—mainly, Darrell thought, because they kept it easy. What would happen if he ever wanted to discuss anything more…difficult, with Sean? Darrell had the feeling he might not like the answer to that question.

  * * * *

  It was late morning before he could get to the store. He could have called, of course, but chose to go in person instead. He should apologize to Aldric. Again. The thought, the memory of what he needed to say sorry for, made him scowl. Why not call? Save himself the crap? It wasn’t like he needed to gather more info or to corroborate anything to do with the case, and if he did, that could be obtained via the phone.

  He caught a glimpse of Aldric through the glass window. Just a flash of dark hair and a twist of his slim body, and Darrell’s hand was pushing open the door before his brain caught up with it. Shit. Well, he could and fucking well would be professional about this. The tinkling of the bells on the inside of the handle almost startled him.

  “D-Darrell!” Aldric flushed a deep pink, and his eyes widened. He took a step back, knocking into a knee-high metal screen, then cast a quick look around. “Patrol Officer Williams, I mean. I didn’t expect— What are you doing here?”

  Aldric’s rosy pink flush fascinated Darrell. How far does it spread on his soft skin? It dropped him into the middle of the pictures he’d been imagining, in which his actions, the delicious things he was doing to Aldric, caused Aldric’s tan skin to take on that rose-pink color. It also confused him so much that he replied, “I had to see you.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Oh, you did?” Aldric had rehearsed half a dozen things to say to Patrol Officer Darrell Williams if he ever crossed paths with him again, all of them as biting and savage as he could manage, and he hated that his lame comeback wasn’t one of them.

  He fought the heat that being in Darrell’s presence again was kindling in him and that would be making his cheeks blush pink as a giveaway. He also forced himself not to move, rather than risk stumbling into anything. “Funny, when you couldn’t hightail it out of my apartment quick enough the other night!”

  Darrell didn’t reply, and Aldric was petty enough to feel pleased that he’d silenced him. “What do you mean, had to see me?” he asked, because for sure the handsome cop hadn’t been thinking about Aldric the way Aldric had been thinking about him. Aldric had been stoking and fanning the flames of indignation to combat the feelings of shame and inadequacy threatening to engulf him. As coping mechanisms went, it was lousy.

  “I mean that I wanted to see you. To speak to you.”

  Footsteps behind Aldric told him Elliot was approaching. He hadn’t told his boss or his co-worker what had happened after he’d left the hospital, of course, merely saying that Darrell had stayed until Aldric’s cousin had arrived.

  “Could we speak privately?” Darrell requested, addressing not only Aldric but Elliot now, sounding more like a cop and less like someone who’d told Aldric he wanted him and who had taken him.

  “Yes, of course.” Elliot sounded a little flustered by the blunt request. “Is there some news about what happened to Aldric?”

  “Not here, please.”

  The store was far from crowded, with only a middle-aged couple browsing. Elliot had been on his way to attend to them when Darrell had entered.

  “Jonas, could you…” Elliot gave a wave toward the old piano and the collection of sheet music on it that had attracted the couple. He received a nod in reply. “In my office?” He led the way to the back of the store. Aldric was used to the place now and it felt familiar to him, but he wondered what Darrell made of it. Would he ever get the chance to ask him?

  Elliot was the first through the office door, and once behind his desk, he gestured to them to pull up chairs in the small room.

  “Have you caught who did it? Is it known why Aldric was attacked?” Elliot demanded.

  “No. No, sorry, I mean there’s no new developments in that area at all.” Darrell took out his notebook.

  “Then why are you here?” Aldric almost shouted.

  “I’ve just come from the Buckman estate, out at The Dominion,” Darrell pivoted slightly, to include both Aldric and Elliot in his reply.

  “I bought several items from there,” Elliot immediately replied. “Is there a problem with one or more of them?”

  “You bought items belonging to the late Buck Buckman. From his study?”

  Elliot nodded. “I can show you. Several are displayed.”

  “There’s been some vandalism up at the property. Broken windows and graffiti.”

  “Why are you telling us all this?” Aldric couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “None of the things you’re saying seem connected.”

  “Unless the officer is accusing us,” Elliot said to Aldric, his tone one of disbelief.

  “No, sir, I am not. Mrs. Buckman believes she shouldn’t have sold certain things of her husband’s that he liked a lot. Little puzzle boxes?”

  “And that’s not connected to anything else you’ve said, either,” Aldric butted in. The sound of the piano being played out in the store and filtering through to the office seemed fitting—it was just as random as everything else Aldric was hearing.

  “Mrs. Buckman’s belief is that her late husband wants those small boxes, made of different-colored woods making mosaic patterns, returned to him, so he can be buried with them. If you’d like to speak to her, she’d be happy to take your call.”

  “She wants the stuff from the blind sale back?” Aldric was doing his best to get it straight and still didn’t understand where the house being vandalized or the attack on him fitted in.

  “But I bought the items fair and square!” Elliot opened a drawer, perhaps to look for the receipts, but closed it again. “And any shopkeeper buys goods intending to make a profit on them. The Buckman curios are excellent examples of smalls.”

  ‘“Smalls?”’ Darrell asked.

  “Small-sized vintage collectibles ideal for display cabinets and shelves,” Aldric parroted. He’d been studying the store’s reference books and guides every spare minute he got.

  “Quite.” Elliot gave him a proud beam. “Trinkets like that make very good walkout items.”

  “Let me guess, small things a customer can walk out of a store with?” Darrell asked.

  “Aldric, you have a rival!” Elliot patted his desk.

  Darrell had a nice smile, Aldric noticed. It made his green eyes lighten a shade and his freckles stand out, somehow.

  “But all joking aside, Officer, Jonas, my other employee, has already started researching the curios collection and looking into possible points of resale, such as an upcoming auction in two weeks. He also has knowledge of collectors of similar artifacts whom we are planning to contact, to gauge their interest in buying. Thank you for your visit. Please let us know of developments in Aldric’s case, should there be any. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a store to run.” Elliot stood, his dismissal clear, and Aldric and Darrell got to their feet too.

&n
bsp; Darrell motioned Aldric out of the office ahead of him. A thought occurred to Aldric. “You don’t think this Mrs. Buckman will come here and try to take those things, do you?”

  Elliot marched past them before Darrell could answer. “Well, let’s make it a little harder for her should she attempt that!” He crossed to the display table where Aldric, under his direction, had laid out the curios. Elliot liked to group goods by theme, so even though the oddities and curiosities were of different origin or date, they were set out together. Elliot picked up the wooden puzzle boxes, folding his arms to his chest to carry them all.

  “I’m taking these to Sally,” he called, so Jonas could hear.

  “Is that another antiques trade term?” Darrell asked Aldric, who shook his head and beckoned Darrell closer to whisper.

  “It’s what Elliot calls the walk-in safe. The secure room with the keypad lock.” He tilted his head to indicate the back of the store, from where they’d just come.

  Darrell straightened, eyeing the customers. “And no need to let strangers know there’s a safe on the premises.”

  “Yes.” Aldric remembered he was mad at this man. Damn my attraction. “Well, I’d better get—”

  “Lunch.”

  A carriage clock struck the time as Darrell spoke. Aldric held a finger up to shush him when he went to say more—the grandfather clock was about to bong too.

  “Can I get you lunch?” Darrell said as soon as the echoes died. “I’d like to talk to you.”

  “To apologize?”

  Darrell had turned up at the hospital to do just that, after his rudeness when they’d first met. And now this? Aldric was getting used to seeing patterns in his work here, and thought he detected another in his relationship with this man.

  “To explain.”

  “Oh. I…doubt I can get free.”

  “Free? Yes, of course.” Elliot, returning with empty arms, took out his pocket watch and compared it to the grandfather clock. “You need to take lunch.”

  “With Officer Williams,” Aldric said. Not sitting in the cramped kitchen here, eating a snack I bought from home, but out on a lunch date. Because that was what it sounded like was happening.

  “Fine. If that’s fine with you?” Elliot raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes. Yes it is.” Aldric ducked a little to avoid anything with a reflective surface—he didn’t want to see how big his grin was.

  He didn’t know any of the customers, not the older couple taking the sheet music that they’d chosen to the counter or the two younger women exclaiming over the amberina glass bowls, but Aldric felt they, along with Elliot and Jonas, watched him walk out with Darrell. It put a sway in his step. Or maybe that was all him.

  There was no need to ask where they were going. The store was around the corner from the Pearl, that imposing gray building that formed one side of a huge plaza, the space attracting crowds for outdoor eating or just sitting around.

  “Hey, look, isn’t that the Big Red Taco Truck? I know it follows a route around the city, but it’s here at this time? That’s good to know.” Darrell quickened his pace. “Come on!”

  Aldric followed him through the animated lunchtime crowds and blinked in surprise to see that the short line of people waiting at the red truck’s counter allowed Darrell to go ahead of them. He hung back, not knowing what to do—he wasn’t a uniformed patrol officer, and it was highly unlikely anyone would mistake him for a plainclothes detective.

  “Aldric?” Darrell beckoned. “I’m getting the puffy taco trio. You want the same?”

  He’d never tried those, but the picture on the laminated menu displayed on the truck looked complicated. There were lots of things to drop and fall. Aldric was squeamish about eating in public, although getting a lot better with eating in front of Elliot, Jonas and even Meredith from the restaurant—she sometimes ate her lunchtime sandwich with him, saying their place was quieter and the company nicer.

  “Er, could I get two fried cheese tacos, please? No garnish.” He pointed to the photo, as if anyone needed to see the folded-over cheese-filled corn tortillas. The only risk there was the queso blanco and queso panela filling oozing out if he bit too hard.

  “Better look for a bench,” Darrell suggested when they had been served, juggling their paper taco trays and sodas. He was carrying Aldric’s along with his own.

  They found a vacant bench near the bike shop. “Thanks,” Aldric said, taking and unwrapping his food carefully. He took a tentative nibble, the paper tray on his lap and his napkin at the ready near his chin. Darrell wasn’t so reticent, taking huge bites and finishing half his Coke in one long swallow that Aldric tried not to track, even though the way the muscles of Darrell’s strong throat worked was… He tried to think of the right adjective.

  “Isn’t it okay? Or not your usual choice?” Darrell pointed at Aldric’s still mostly uneaten food. “You like to eat healthy? I do if I can. If not, I work out more.” He sucked in shredded lettuce before it escaped. It should have looked icky, but the sweep of his tongue tip over his lips had Aldric fighting not to stare. “And I got no excuse, when there’s a good gym in my apartment complex, and two pools, one on the roof.”

  “Not in mine,” Aldric muttered. “As you might have noticed, when fleeing into the night. What was it that did it? How trigger-happy I was?”

  Darrell put what remained of his food back into its container and placed that down between them. “It’s not you.”

  “It’s me.” Aldric wasn’t attempting a joke. He was one. Needy and nervous and no doubt more things beginning with n. Nerd, for instance.

  “You can’t doubt I find you sexy.” Darrell lowered his voice although they were alone, and Aldric thought he began to understand Darrell’s deal. “I can’t take my eyes off that pert ass of yours.”

  “You mean you want to see me again?”

  “I mean I’d like to fuck you, yeah.” Darrell held the last remnants of his taco out for Aldric to taste. “You’ve never tried chili beef taco meat? It’s good.”

  “Darrell?”

  At the woman’s voice, Darrell slammed his tray back onto the bench and stood. “Brianna? Do you work around here? I thought you worked with Leah?”

  “Seeing a client.” She pointed at the Pearl building. “I’m in a different field to Leah. It was great to meet your family the other day.”

  Darrell shot a glance at Aldric.

  “I thought you might have called about the football game we were talking about? It sounds like fun. Go Lions!”

  Aldric tried not to listen. Should he have walked away a little and given Darrell privacy? Introduced himself when the woman left a pause and looked at him? No. The meanie in him enjoyed seeing Darrell on the spot and trying to back away from it with committing himself. It seemed like he’d had a fair amount of practice at that.

  “So,” he said, when the short exchange was over, and the woman walked away.

  “She works with my brother’s girlfriend. No, fiancée now.” Darrell sat, swallowed the remains of his food and balled up his paper napkin. “And got invited along to a get-together.”

  His family were fixing him up with girls? “You’re bi?”

  Darrell shook his head. “Not one bit.”

  “Ah.” Aldric thought his suspicions must be correct. “They don’t know.” About what, he left blank.

  “They’re…traditional.” Darrell sighed. “Military. Macho.”

  Aldric scoffed, indicating that Darrell filled out his uniform well.

  “And the SAPD isn’t exactly gay-friendly either.” Darrell stood, grabbing his trash. “Things are…complicated all round. This is complicated. And I try to keep things simple.”

  “So why ask me to lunch?” Aldric stood too. He should head back. Head away from this, whatever it was, and not poke it like some idiot jamming a stick into a wasps’ nest.

  “I don’t know.” Darrell relieved Aldric of his garbage. “Except I wanted to.”

  “Want to walk me back to wor
k?” Aldric wasn’t above being a bitch. He made sure to be a little ahead, putting a sway into his hips to showcase his ‘pert ass’. Thinking about returning to the store made him ask, “Is the vandalism of the Buckmans’ house and what happened here at Intrinsic Value connected?”

  “Randa Buckman thinks so. She thinks it’s her husband’s ghost,” Darrell answered.

  Aldric stumbled to a stop. “What? Like a curse?”

  Darrell shrugged.

  “Well, the store looks fine at the moment.” Aldric peered up at the façade. “Maybe you should check the safe?” He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but he knew what he was hoping. Elliot was out, and Jonas a vague shape squatting to arrange something under the locked glass of the front counter. He didn’t look up, so probably didn’t even register Aldric hurrying in and to the back of the store with Darrell. I hope.

  He keyed in the combination once he’d lifted the correct painting from the array on the wall next to the door to reveal the number pad, then shut the door behind the two of them in the narrow room that was little more than a cupboard.

  “It all looks fine,” Darrell began. The smile starting to inch up his face became wide-eyed surprise when Aldric’s shove had him against the door.

  “You kissed me last time,” Aldric said, then brushed his mouth over Darrell’s. He doubted he was as proficient, but when he flicked his tongue over Darrell’s, Darrell opened for him, and the jalapeno heat, chipotle smoke and raw onion sting had Aldric’s head swimming.

  The murmur of surprised pleasure Darrell gave as Aldric tasted him rumbled through Aldric, building need and want. Darrell took over the kiss, pressing into Aldric before parting his legs with a strong thigh, making Aldric moan. The kiss turned as hard and desperate as the rut of their lower bodies that had their cocks rubbing against each other, until Darrell pulled off with a gasp.