A Bid for Love

by Rachel Ann Nunes

The Buddha now sat in the trunk, packed in a special box. Next to it was the Mother and Baby statue, also in its case. Cassi had sent the lion sculpture to Linden with a security company, but had been reluctant to send her own purchase. Finally, she decided to risk taking it home on the plane with her. She almost regretted her decision when she noticed how Jared’s eyes had fixed on her statue when they picked it up, and a creeping doubt about him stole into her heart.

  Jared’s hand touched hers briefly. “It won’t be long before we get some answers,” he said. Over his dress pants and shirt, he wore a tan jacket. With such beautiful weather, she questioned the need for it—until she remembered his gun. She had to admit the weapon made her feel a little safer.

  They drove to Venice where Jared’s friend, Carl, lived in one of the most expensive apartment buildings near the beach. The sky was cloudless, and already promised a hot day. Though she couldn’t yet see the beach, Cassi could smell the ocean and hear the squawking of the seagulls. She experienced a sudden longing to remove her sandals and feel the sand squishing through her toes. Even as a child she had adored the beach, especially at night when the sun set over the ocean, sending sprays of color reflecting off the water. She almost wished she didn’t have a plane to catch. To watch the sunset with Jared would be . . .

  Cassi brought herself up short. What was she thinking? He hadn’t really shown an interest in her personally. He was simply worried about her getting hurt because of him, just as he would worry about anyone else. Or was it something more? Cassi felt confused and wished that relationships could be as clear to her as art deals.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Jared said.

  “What?” Cassi glanced up at him in surprise. He’d already parked the car and come around to open her door.

  “You look so serious with your eyebrows all scrunched together like that. Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, no,” she said hurriedly. “I was just thinking about all that’s happened.”

  “Hopefully, Carl can shed some light on what’s going on.” He went around to the back of the car, opened the trunk, and drew out the Buddha’s box. Cassi picked up her case with the Mother and Baby, not wanting to leave it unattended.

  “I thought you always sent the items to Linden by courier,” Jared said as they began the walk to Carl’s place.

  “I do,” said Cassi. “But this isn’t Linden’s—it’s mine.”

  Jared laughed. “Good choice.”

  They walked a little further before Jared said, “I’ll buy it from you.”

  “What?”

  “The Mother and Baby. At a profit for you, of course.”

  Cassi was offended. “Is that why you let me come with you, so you could make an offer for it?”

  “Not at all. I just admire the piece. If you’re attached to it, forget it. I understand.”

  Cassi was silent. She felt angry, principally at herself for starting to think that maybe this good-looking man liked her for herself.

  “I’m sorry,” Jared added. “I didn’t know making an offer would upset you. Forget it, okay?”

  Cassi nodded, making the mistake of meeting his eyes. A current ran through her body, much like she imagined electricity would if she touched a hot wire.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  As they climbed the front steps to the apartment building in silence, Cassi noticed a wheelchair ramp built in front of the structure. The building was old but immaculate and in excellent repair, giving it an interesting air of elegance from the past.

  “He lives there,” Jared said, motioning to the bottom left apartment just inside the heavy wood doors.

  “I hope he’s home.”

  “He’d better be. I called him while you were showering.”

  “You said you knew him when you lived here. Was he one of your friends from church?”

  Jared frowned. “No. Not yet, anyway. He’s pretty bitter about something that happened in his life as a teenager, and he can’t seem to get past it.”

  Cassi didn’t reply, remembering only too well her own sadness when people she loved couldn’t find peace. A part of her wanted to reach out to Jared, but uncertainty crushed that desire. What if he didn’t want her sympathy?

  Jared rang the bell and waited. Finally a sound came from behind the door, and it opened slowly.

  Cassi was unprepared for what she saw. She had been looking straight ahead, expecting to see a man about Jared’s height, but before her sat a man in a wheelchair, and she struggled not to jerk her head down toward him.

  Her attempt didn’t fool Carl. “Didn’t tell her about the wheelchair, huh, Jared?” the man said in a raspy voice. He was very thin and had long brown hair and a droopy mustache. Cassi figured he was at least ten years older than Jared.

  “Why should I?” Jared countered. “It doesn’t make any difference in who you are. Just because you can’t walk—”

  “Just because my legs are twisted and useless, you mean.” Carl backed away from the door and motioned them inside. He expertly turned his electric wheelchair around and started into the next room. Silently, they followed him through the front room and down a spacious hall to Carl’s large workroom. The walls were lined with low bookshelves and tables full of expensive-looking equipment.

  “Put the Buddha here,” directed Carl, pointing to a table between two large machines. Jared obeyed the request, and Carl examined the statue thoroughly. “Well, to look at it, it seems authentic,” he said. “Except . . .”

  “This mark right here.” Cassi pointed to a spot on the lower left side of the Buddha’s base.

  Carl nodded. “Yes, that swirl under the flower should be longer and with a bit more of a curve like the other ones around the base. The artists of that period were sticklers for detail.” He picked up a book on the table and flipped to a section that showed enlarged pictures of the Buddha from every angle. “See,” he pointed at one of the photos. “But . . .” Carl hesitated.

  “What?” asked Jared and Cassi together.

  “If I had to give an opinion just from examining it, I would still say it was authentic, despite the difference from the pictures. You see, this is one of a collection of Buddhas, and it’s possible for one to deviate slightly. This may not be the Buddha in the picture at all, but still a genuine one from the collection, perhaps only recently come to light.” Carl moved his chair to one side and began fiddling with some equipment. “Fortunately, we don’t have to rely on sight alone.”

  “So if it isn’t real,” Jared said, “that would mean—”

  “That whoever faked it has the real one,” Carl finished. “Or one of the real ones, I should say. That’s the only way it could be copied so perfectly. Even so, it would have taken months to get it exactly right.”

  “But why sell the fake one and then try to get it back?” asked Cassi. “It doesn’t make sense. They probably could have gotten away with it if they hadn’t tried.”

  “They tried to get it back?” asked Carl, his hands going still.

  “Uh, yeah,” Jared said sheepishly. “Two men attacked me at the hotel last night. Although if the Buddha is a fake, we don’t know that those men were the ones who were involved, or that they even know about the forgery.”

  Carl’s expression grew worried. “That explains your face. I thought you and your girlfriend here just got into a fight.” He smiled mirthlessly at his own wit.

  “Cassi. Her name’s Cassi.”

  “And I’m not his girlfriend,” Cassi added. “I mean we’re friends, but we really just met and . . .” She trailed off, wishing she had kept quiet.

  “So you’ve got men after a possibly fake Buddha,” Carl said into the awkward silence.

  “What if it’s not a fake?” Cassi asked.

  “Let’s look at it from that perspective.” Carl fingered his chin thoughtfully. “Say the Buddha is real. Why would those men want it?”

  “I couldn’t guess.” Jared sat on the edge of one of the low
tables next to the Buddha. “The Buddha cost four hundred thousand dollars but that would be peanuts to guys like these.”

  Cassi snapped her fingers. “So it is a fake. It must be.”

  “That’s my bet.” Carl looked up at Jared’s face. “But that doesn’t explain why those men want it so badly.”

  “Maybe they’re trying to cover up a counterfeit art ring,” Jared said.

  “That’s as good an explanation as anything.” Carl turned back to the table. “Uh, Jared, why don’t you go out to the kitchen and get us a drink? This is going to take a while, so don’t hurry.” Jared shot Cassi a puzzled glance, but did as he was asked.

  Carl didn’t immediately go back to his equipment but folded his hands over his stomach and stared at Cassi. “He’s a good man, Jared is. There isn’t any better.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know him that well, but he helped me out yesterday when my friend had her baby early”

  “I bet you help a lot of people, too”

  “I like to think so. Maybe not as much as I should, though.”

  “That explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “The light I see around you, shining and white. The same one I see around Jared. I can always tell if people are good by the aura around them.”

  “You see auras?” Cassi had heard of such a thing but had doubted it was possible. Now she found herself believing.

  Carl nodded. “Ever since the accident. I believe that on some level, all people see auras and are attracted to the purest ones. Most folks just aren’t aware of it.”

  “Does Jared know?”

  “No. I couldn’t tell him because he’d claim that meant he was telling the truth about God, and I should become a Christian like him.” He began adjusting a knob on a machine in front of him.

  Cassi was quiet as she puzzled over what Carl was telling her. It seemed he wanted to believe, but something held him back. “How did it happen?” she asked finally, wondering if he would tell her. She felt a connection with the man, a kinship she hadn’t expected, but there was nothing that guaranteed he felt the same way.

  Carl looked up at her, his hazel eyes seeming much too large and beautiful for his twisted body. “Surfing accident when I was nineteen,” he said without expression. “At a competition. I would have won. I was the best.”

  Cassi shook her head in sympathy. “You love the ocean, don’t you? You miss it.”

  This time there was pain in Carl’s eyes. “Yes.”

  Cassi wondered if there was anything she could offer that might ease the torment he so obviously suffered. She took a breath and continued. “My favorite part is the sunset, first when the rays reflect off the shining water, radiating all that beautiful gold, then the color creeps in, the pinks and reds. And finally—and this is the best part—when the sun seems to be swallowed by the ocean.”

  Carl nodded. “It’s all I have left.”

  “For now,” Cassi agreed. “Of the ocean, anyway. But the sunrise is just as beautiful—the dawn of a new day, unblemished by mistakes. Jared tells me you’ve become a respected authority on determining the authenticity of art. Did it ever occur to you that this talent was a gift to replace the one you lost? That and the gift of seeing auras? It could very well be your sunrise. The saying goes that whenever God allows a door to shut, He opens one somewhere else—one that may be more difficult to pass through, but better for us in the end.”

  “Are you saying my life now is better than before?” Carl asked bitterly.

  “Can you honestly say you would give all the knowledge, satisfaction, and recognition your work gives you for a few brief years in the surfing world?” Cassi countered. “I grew up in California, and I know there’s a lot of stuff surrounding the beach and surfing crowd that isn’t all that great. Tell me, how many white and shining auras would you see among them? And where would you fit in?”

  As Cassi spoke, Carl’s eyes grew wide with anger, but by the time she had finished, he was nodding. “I’ll have to think about it.” He glanced at his equipment and then back at Cassi. “That’s another thing you share with Jared. You don’t mince words.” He turned back to his work.

  Cassi smiled gently. I’ll bet your aura is white and shining too.

  She thought the subject closed, but Carl glanced up at her again. “You have some thinking to do, too,” he said. “About Jared. You may have to chase him, but he wants to be caught.”

  Before Cassi could reply, Jared came back into the room. “What took you so long?” Carl asked.

  “You didn’t have any clean glasses, so I had to wash some. I did the rest of the dishes while I was at it.”

  Carl’s head was turned from Jared, but Cassi could see the smile that played on his lips. She guessed that he’d known very well that there were no clean dishes and just as well that Jared would wash the entire dirty pile.

  Carl flipped a switch on his machine before reaching for the glass Jared held out to him, gulping down the contents in one shot. “Yuck,” he said, making a disgusted face. “Orange juice. Couldn’t you have brought me a beer?”

  “Sorry,” said Jared, “but I want you sober for this job.” Carl snorted and Cassi laughed.

  Carl pulled the machine toward him and twisted it in the direction of the Buddha, bathing the statue in light. The machine attached to an extendable arm, which gave him the ability to move it into exactly the right position, and a built-in viewer permitted him to see how the light reflected from the Buddha. For long minutes Carl stared through the viewer, pausing every now and then to change the light, jot down a few notes, or to ask Jared to turn the statue. When he was satisfied, he moved to another machine and directed sound waves toward the Buddha, scribbling more on his pad. Then he used yet a third machine, whose purpose Cassi couldn’t identify. Finally, he turned the machines off.

  “It’s fake, all right. But someone’s gone to an awful lot of trouble to make it appear real. They used paint that has almost the same emission and absorption spectrum as the original. But where I could really tell was when I did the depth check with sound waves. This Buddha is not as thick as the original—or it’s not made of the same material. Then I checked it with this,” he pointed to the third machine. “The magnetic resonance proves that the middle is not the same consistency as the outer layer. Part is even hollow, though I’m sure it weighs the same, or it wouldn’t have come undetected as far as it has. That means it’s probably made from a heavier clay.”

  “Or maybe it has something in it,” Cassi said.

  Carl grinned. “You’ve been watching too many movies.”

  “And reading too many books,” Cassi agreed.

  “So it’s a fake.” Jared sounded dazed, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. Cassi knew she’d feel the same if she had just spent four hundred thousand on a forgery.

  “Absolutely. I can do a paint analysis to prove it. The chemicals will be able to tell us the age.” Before Jared or Cassi could say anything, Carl laid the Buddha on its back, picked up an instrument, and shaved off a tiny piece of glaze on the bottom. Then he wheeled across the room to mix it with his chemicals.

  Satisfied that all was going well, Carl put his hand on his chair’s controls and wheeled to the doorway. “That will take a few minutes. While we wait, Jared, call me a taxi. One of those special ones that take wheelchairs.”

  “Why? Where are you going? We can take you.”

  Carl shook his head. “No way. Much as I like you, Jared, you’re dangerous to be around right now. I don’t know what’s going on with your Buddha, but whoever is behind this forgery put a lot of effort and money into it, and I’m not about to get in the way. Me, I’m going to Mexico. There’s a girl I met the last time I was down there, and I’ve been meaning to visit her. Name’s Maria, and she writes to me all the time. She’s not like these American girls who want money and a man who can walk. Money is enough for her. She seems to like me besides. And she’s one he—” Carl stopped abruptly and glanced
at Cassi. “Heck of a cook,” he finished lamely.

  “But—” Jared began. He and Cassi followed Carl into his bedroom and watched as he wheeled erratically around the room, taking clothing out of drawers, from the closet, and even from a basket of dirty clothes by the bed.

  “But nothing. Cassi here started me to thinking, and I’m not about to get killed before I finish.”

  Soon Carl had a pile on the bed and began to pack it rapidly into a suitcase with surprising neatness. “Shut that for me, Jared, would you?” Carl said when he was finished. “The paint test should be finished. And I still haven’t heard you call the taxi.”

  “You’re completely serious.” Jared ignored the suitcase and followed Carl back into the workroom. Cassi hurriedly shut the case and carried it with her.

  “Look at your face and read the signs,” Carl retorted. “Those men are serious. Do yourself a favor and get rid of this Buddha as quickly as possible.”

  “I’m taking it to New York tomorrow and giving it to Laranda,” Jared said.

  “Good. Keep your gun handy.”

  “I will, except for when I have to check it in at the airport.”

  “Too bad you can’t get around that.” Carl bent over the chemicals again and motioned for Jared and Cassi to see. They knew enough about the process to see for themselves that the Buddha was a fake.

  “That’s proof then,” Jared said quietly. “That paint is younger than we are.”

  Cassi started to pull out her phone to call a taxi, but she’d forgotten it in the car. Instead, she used Carl’s landline. “Is there anything else we can do for you?” she asked. “Anyone we should tell or any payments to make?”

  Carl shook his head. “Everything’s paid through the bank, and I can call the cleaning lady and the company I work for at the airport. Truth is, they’ve been trying to get me down to Mexico again anyway. They’ve got a lab there, and a museum needs me to date some items for them. They’ll be happy to see me. Not to mention Maria. Come on, let’s go.”

  By the time Jared repacked the Buddha and Cassi picked up her box, Carl was already waiting for them at the door with his suitcase on his lap. They silently made their way into the lobby as the taxi pulled up outside.