The Mystery of the Moving Image
Page 22
Doctors had told me if the revolver had been just half an inch more accurate, I would have probably bled out before reaching the hospital.
I didn’t know what happened after death. Maybe nothing. Maybe your consciousness just… ceased to be, your body gently rotted back into the earth, and… that was all she wrote.
But I liked to think there was something waiting.
Not much. Perhaps an empty hallway. Or an office with no windows.
Just enough that I could be cognizant that I was me and this was that place and I could spend eternity never forgiving myself for abandoning Calvin.
Anyway.
We were both okay.
Now, I meant.
Neil had run toward the bathrooms after hearing the first shot. He’d been too late for the second, but had body-slammed Pete to the floor and handcuffed him. That son of a bitch was now awaiting trial with a laundry list of charges against him, including two accounts of second-degree murder, attempted murder, multiple accounts of robbery, and a slew of lesser offenses I wasn’t even interested in.
Calvin had almost reached me that day.
Almost.
He’d witnessed me being shot instead.
And Pop told me that he… hadn’t been doing so well by the time I went in for surgery. But Calvin had had support, and for that I was grateful. It was a small comfort knowing that if I ended up cashing in my curiosity lives too soon, at least there were people in my absence who would love and care for Calvin. Maybe not his biological family, but the misfits we’d surrounded ourselves with were far better anyway.
Family was what you made of it, right?
The first four months, as I was in and out of the hospital, recovery, and physical therapy, our little band looked after the Emporium, our dog, us. I’m not the most eloquent guy, but I hoped they all understood. Without Pop, Max, Beth, Quinn, Neil—it could have been very different.
“CENTRAL PARK is two and half miles long,” I stated. “Pretty sure we’ve walked its entire length at this point.”
Calvin asked, in a rather preoccupied sounding manner, “What does your StepTrack say?”
I raised my wrist close to my face. “That I’ve already walked two miles.”
“You didn’t restart it when we entered the park.”
Busted.
I shrugged and changed the subject. “I hope you’ve actually been looking for this elusive maroon tree, because we both know I won’t pick it out with any degree of success.”
It was peak foliage season in the city. Central Park was brimming with locals and tourists enjoying the colored canopy I’d heard a passerby describe as “as stunning as an oil painting.” I supposed I could agree with that comparison.
Even my world wasn’t simply black and white. There were always enough shades of gray to make it interesting.
I held Dillon’s leash in one hand and Calvin’s hand in the other. The sky was a pleasant overcast, the air crisp and cool, and the mismatching leaf litter crunched underfoot.
The day was just shy of perfect.
“Central Park has been a National Historic Landmark since 1962,” I stated.
I glanced up at Calvin. He’d been acting… weird today. For the last few days, really. Not that his silence was necessarily strange. I was the one who couldn’t shut up, and Calvin was the one who nodded and encouraged my obsessive sharing of little-known facts. But I was pretty sure he hadn’t heard a word I’d said all morning. In fact, I feared he’d have let go of my hand a half mile back and wandered off in another direction if I hadn’t been holding on to him with a viselike grip.
“Have you seen the Alice sculpture in the park?” I prodded.
Calvin didn’t answer, just stared ahead along the path.
“There’s a quote from ‘Jabberwocky’ on it,” I continued.
Nothing.
“It seems very pretty. But it’s rather hard to understand!”
“What?”
I looked up again. “Alice. In reference to ‘Jabberwocky.’ Never mind. Are you okay?”
Calvin let out a little sigh and stopped us under the shade of a dark-leafed tree. He tugged his hand free and moved to stand in front of me.
“Is this maroon?” I asked playfully, pointing upward.
Why isn’t he smiling?
“Calvin, you’re starting to freak me out,” I stated. My heart was actually beginning to pound. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s going on? Why have you been a hundred thousand miles away today?”
Calvin stared at me. He reached into his coat pocket and removed a small box. He gripped it hard, working it in his palm before seeming to steel himself, and snapped the lid open.
I glanced from his stony expression to the contents. My heart went from racing to a full, dead stop.
Calvin got down on one knee. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ve racked my brain trying to come up with a romantic lead-in to this….”
I made a weird sound. I think it was a cross between a laugh and a sob. It was really loud, and a few folks walking by glanced back at us in curiosity.
Inside the little box was a ring. Nothing fancy, because God knows fancy wasn’t an adjective associated with me. It was dark-colored. Subtle. Pretty.
Dillon was busy looping his leash around my legs as he paced.
“Are you serious?” I blurted out. I realized belatedly… that was probably not the response Calvin was hoping for.
But he didn’t falter. “I know you’ve got a soft spot, but nothing I came up with seemed all that original.”
“No. I mean, not no! I—the romantic—oh my God. It’s fine,” I said, stumbling over every word like English was suddenly a foreign language to me.
Calvin hesitantly smiled.
“You can just….” I took a deep breath and waved at him. “Ask me.”
His smile grew, lighting his entire face up brighter than I’d ever seen. “Sebastian, will you marry me?”
No quotes.
No bullshit.
No wisecracks.
For once, I only had one thing to say.
“Yes.”
More from C.S. Poe
Snow & Winter: Book One
It’s Christmas, and all antique dealer Sebastian Snow wants is for his business to make money and to save his floundering relationship with closeted CSU detective Neil Millett. When Snow’s Antique Emporium is broken into and a heart is found under the floorboards, Sebastian can’t let the mystery rest.
He soon finds himself caught up in murder investigations that echo the macabre stories of Edgar Allan Poe. To make matters worse, Sebastian’s sleuthing is causing his relationship with Neil to crumble, while at the same time he’s falling hard for the lead detective on the case, Calvin Winter. Sebastian and Calvin must work together to unravel the mystery behind the killings, despite the mounting danger and sexual tension, before Sebastian becomes the next victim.
In the end, Sebastian only wants to get out of this mess alive and live happily ever after with Calvin.
Snow & Winter: Book Two
Life has been pretty great for Sebastian Snow. The Emporium is thriving and his relationship with NYPD homicide detective, Calvin Winter, is everything he’s ever wanted. With Valentine’s Day around the corner, Sebastian’s only cause for concern is whether Calvin should be taken on a romantic date. It’s only when an unknown assailant smashes the Emporium’s window and leaves a peculiar note behind that all plans get pushed aside in favor of another mystery.
Sebastian is quickly swept up in a series of grisly yet seemingly unrelated murders. The only connection tying the deaths together are curiosities from the lost museum of P.T. Barnum. Despite Calvin’s attempts to keep Sebastian out of the investigation, someone is forcing his hand, and it becomes apparent that the entire charade exists for Sebastian to solve. With each clue that brings him closer to the killer, he’s led deeper into Calvin’s official cases.
It’s more than just Sebastian’s livelihood and relationship on the line—it’s his very life.
Aubrey Grant lives in the tropical paradise of Old Town, Key West, has a cute cottage, a sweet moped, and a great job managing the historical property of a former sea captain. With his soon-to-be-boyfriend, hotshot FBI agent Jun Tanaka, visiting for a little R&R, not even Aubrey’s narcolepsy can put a damper on their vacation plans.
But a skeleton in a closet of the Smith Family Historical Home throws a wrench into the works. Despite Aubrey and Jun’s attempts to enjoy some time together, the skeleton’s identity drags them into a mystery with origins over a century in the past. They uncover a tale of long-lost treasure, the pirate king it belonged to, and a modern-day murderer who will stop at nothing to find the hidden riches. If a killer on the loose isn’t enough to keep Aubrey out of the mess, it seems even the restless spirit of Captain Smith is warning him away.
The unlikely partnership of a special agent and historian may be exactly what it takes to crack this mystery wide-open and finally put an old Key West tragedy to rest. But while Aubrey tracks down the X that marks the spot, one wrong move could be his last.
Readers love the Snow & Winter series by C.S. Poe
The Mystery of Nevermore
“This book has an embarrassment of riches—an engaging plot that will hold your interest to the final page, two intriguing main characters with a sizzling sexual chemistry, a top-notch mystery with plenty of red herrings….”
—Gay Book Reviews
“The romance was sweet and hot, the mystery was well thought out and researched, and the ending was quite satisfying.”
—Joyfully Jay
The Mystery of the Curiosities
“For mystery lovers, this is a must read full of action, suspense, danger, and a not-so-easy solving of the crimes. I’m really enjoying this series and my biggest curiosity is what historical subject matter C.S. Poe will come up with next.”
—The Novel Approach
“The attraction between Sebastian and Calvin sizzles off the pages. The author writes an interesting mystery and a wonderful love story… Pushes all my buttons….”
—Paranormal Romance Guild
C.S. POE is a Lambda Literary and EPIC award finalist author of gay mystery, romance, and paranormal books.
She is a reluctant mover and has called many places home in her lifetime. C.S. has lived in New York City, Key West, and Ibaraki, Japan, to name a few. She misses the cleanliness, convenience, and limited-edition gachapon of Japan, but she was never very good at riding bikes to get around.
She has an affinity for all things cute and colorful and a major weakness for toys. C.S. is an avid fan of coffee, reading, and cats. She’s rescued two cats—Milo and Kasper do their best on a daily basis to sidetrack her from work.
C.S. is a member of the International Thriller Writers organization.
Website: cspoe.com
By C.S. Poe
Southernmost Murder
SNOW & WINTER
The Mystery of Nevermore
The Mystery of the Curiosities
The Mystery of the Moving Image
Published by DSP PUBLICATIONS
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Published by
DSP PUBLICATIONS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Mystery of the Moving Image
© 2018 C.S. Poe.
Cover Art
© 2018 Reese Dante.
http://www.reesedante.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact DSP Publications, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dsppublications.com.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-878-2
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64080-879-9
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018943360
Digital published September 2018
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America