Relics

by K. T. Tomb

  Chapter Five

  Charlotte helped her pack and organize her itinerary, which was always a blessing. Phoe stared at the phone, pondering the last thing she told herself she needed to do. It was a conversation which she had to make, but it already left a bad taste in her mouth and she hadn’t even had it.

  Planning an unpleasant, but necessary, conversation in her head drained her mentally. Tough to do when she had talked herself out of making the call six times in the past hour. But it needed to be done.

  “You know, some things are better done without a plan,” Charlotte offered.

  Maybe she was right. Phoe smiled at her and moved to another room to make the call in private. She punched in the number and repeatedly sighed while completing a task that suddenly made her fingers feel clumsy. She smiled as she thought he might be away from his phone and she’d be off the hook. He might not accept the call anyway, because...

  Phoe prepared to leave a voicemail after the fourth ring. She took a deep breath that was cut in half when she heard a click.

  “Hello, Phoe.”

  She could imagine the Cheshire grin spread across his face when he saw who was calling him and she considered hanging up. That would be childish, she told herself, pressing forward with the unpleasant task.

  “Hello, Peter.”

  “The answer, my dear Phoe, is ‘no.’”

  “What? How do you even know what I’m going to ask you?”

  “I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night.”

  She hated it when he used cheap clichés. She considered several retorts, but decided that she needed to be civil if she had any chance of making it through the call or achieving its purpose. All that came out was a single, not committal word: “Hey.”

  “You want the Head of Olmec. I don’t think there’s anything you could possibly trade me for this little gem.”

  “I don’t want the head,” she said. “Well, I do, but that’s not why I called.”

  There was a silent pause, and Phoe hoped he wouldn’t be more difficult. Curiosity had a way of drawing someone in. She decided to use it and waited silently until he took the bait.

  “What do you need from me?” he asked, after several long seconds ticked by.

  “I’m going on a quest for something different.” Asking him became harder than she originally anticipated. Her mouth suddenly felt as if it was filled with sandpaper. She was in the middle of working out the words she wanted to use when he responded.

  “And you want my expertise. I know... go on.” The callous, yet simplistic way the words came out of him made her regret the call even more.

  Frustrated, she finally rushed forward with her request. “All right, damn it! I’m asking you to accompany me on a quest.”

  “Of course I’ll come along.”

  His answer surprised her as much as it relieved her. The answer was too quick, the agreement too easy. She was suspicious immediately.

  “You’ll have to pay your own way.” Her strategy changed to trying to make him beg to join her.

  “Knowing you, dear girl, I was planning on it.” He chuckled. “What are we looking for?”

  “You won’t be in charge. I was put in charge and was given the freedom to pick whoever I wanted to join me.”

  “And you chose me. Yes, yes, we’re good on that. So, what are we looking for?”

  The more she delayed telling him, the greater the agitation in his voice. No way to get the upper hand.

  “The Hammer of Thor.” She cringed, eyeing the phone as if it had become a viper ready to sink its fangs into her wrist.

  A longer pause of silence, and her belief in the legendary relic’s existence began to waver.

  “You do realize that Mjölnir doesn’t exist, don’t you?” Peter said.

  “I believed that it didn’t exist, yes.” She tried to phrase her words so she wouldn’t discredit the quest and end up with a dial tone on the other end.

  “So, you believe it exists now?” His voice betrayed his mischievous grin.

  “I’m on a quest for it, aren’t I?” she groused.

  Another pause.

  “You poor girl! Have you seen a doctor? Wait! I know what it is! You have simply lost your mind trying to figure out a way to spend some time with me. You need not play me so desperately, Phoe.”

  In spite of the fact that his mocking made her want to tell him to go do several unmentionable things to himself before slamming down the phone, she retained the last bit of her self-control and rushed toward getting him to commit. “I’m not lying, Peter. I’m going on a fully-funded quest for Thor’s Hammer and I want you to come with me! Are you in, or not?”

  “Well, I—”

  “No more questions, and no more bullshit!” she interrupted. Losing patience with Peter Kellerman, images of going it alone began replacing the ones with him by her side.

  “Very well, then. I’ll be there for the duration. No questions asked, except for one. You must give me this one question. After all, I trust you explicitly.”

  “One question, but then no more after that!”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  It was a question she knew he would ask from the outset, and it was her biggest hurdle in the vacillating decision to call him up. She had no choice but to relinquish some control of the situation, and she hated having painted herself into a corner. “What do you want?”

  “Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you,” he replied.

  She lowered her head and sighed in disgust. “All right, but I will tell you what it won’t include! Our deal will not include any expedition for artifacts, or any artifacts, past or present. It will not include giving you any kind of ownership in Simple Treasures, either. And... I will not become your wife, concubine, or anything where control over my person is allowed! And... and...” She couldn’t think of anything else that repulsed her in that moment, but she was sure several more would develop if he decided to join her.

  “Fair enough,” he laughed. “I still need to contemplate the possibilities. Please allow ‘compensation’ to remain open. Meanwhile, when do we leave? I do need a moment to prepare for a journey that I’m sure will take us to some exotic locale.”

  She smiled. “Simon Kessler’s lawyer will be here at nine o’clock sharp with the paperwork. I was told we’re leaving immediately afterward. So, if you can be here, say... ten-ish?”

  “Tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes.”

  A longer pause this time. Phoe worried she’d lost him.

  “Why did you ask me to come?” he asked, the previous glee absent.

  “Uh-uh. No questions asked. Remember, Peter?”

  “Ten-ish it is.” As she hung up with Peter Kellerman, she thought about how weird it would be to have him along. It had been something she had avoided at all costs, but the situation called for it and… She decided not to analyze it again.

  She walked into the store to find Charlotte cleaning shelves without any customers around.

  “How are sales?” Phoe asked, forcing a smile.

  Charlotte shook her head, and went back to cleaning.

  “Nothing all day?” Phoe glanced out the front window. The parking area sat deserted. “I thought for sure the King Tut stuff would start moving... eventually.”

  Charlotte’s frown deepened, but then as if she caught herself, she smiled and moved toward Phoe, giving her a big hug.

  “Thanks, Char. If I thought that hugs would pay the bills, I’d put yours on the shelves.” She laughed.

  “You don’t want to go there, dear,” countered Charlotte, pretending to be serious. “Hugs are free for people who care about each other. Others have to pay.”

  They both shared a good laugh, and Phoe thought about how good Charlotte had been to her. An even better friend than she’d been to Phoe’s mother.

  “I’ve seen some crazy things in my time, but I think you going after the Hammer of Thor beats everything hands down. I wonder what your mom would say?
”

  Phoe gasped. “Oh shit! I didn’t tell her.”

  “Actually, I wouldn’t tell her either, if I were you.”

  Chapter Six

  Kessler’s lawyer showed up at five minutes before nine. Phoe and Charlotte read and reread everything in the contract. The deal was a little more complicated, since Phoe was required to keep credit card receipts for everything purchased. That was in addition to the usual boatful of legal mumbo-jumbo which adorns any contract. But after several run-throughs, everyone was pleased. Once the contract was initialed and signed, the lawyer handed her the card.

  “When can we send the car for you?” he asked.

  “You probably should plan on picking up me and my associate around eleven this morning... seeing as he is not here yet.”

  “I’ll make sure to let Mr. Kessler know,” said the young attorney, named Jason. He had a nice smile and soft brown eyes. “The car will take you to the Taos Regional Airport where Mr. Kessler’s private jet awaits. Thank you... uh... You just used your first initial. What does the T stand for, Ms. Phoenix?”

  “What do you think it stands for?”

  “I’m not paid to guess.”

  “Then I ‘guess’ that answers the question, doesn’t it?” Several years ago, she had made it legal to use her first initial and her last name as a signature.

  Jason smirked and left a copy of the contract with her, and Phoe gave it to Charlotte for safekeeping. He also handed her a cell phone.

  “Keep this with you at all times, Ms. Phoenix. It’s a direct line to Mr. Kessler. He wants updates on your progress at every step of the way, whether it seems significant or not.”

  “Do you know what the job is that your employer is paying me to do?” she asked, wondering how deeply Jason was involved with Kessler’s enterprises.

  “As far as the contract is concerned, you’re not getting paid, per se,” he advised. “There are certain things that I not only do not wish to be privy to, but are also none of my business. Sorry.”

  “A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

  Phoe realized not everyone associated with Kessler was going to know her assignment. Still, she intended to make a game out of it. The worst thing would be her being viewed as a laughingstock. She didn’t want to be seen as the woman who got conned into searching for an artifact that didn’t exist. Kessler was going down with her if that happened. Damn straight.

  Chapter Seven

  With her bags packed, all she had to do was wait for Peter Kellerman, which, even as she repeated the idea in her head, seemed extremely out of place. What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Phoe? She pushed the thought aside and considered something of a more practical nature.

  She decided to start her journey in black jeans and a black sweater, with a black T-shirt underneath, in case she started to burn up. Dressing in layers was something that had become a habit from youth; it was what people who lived in mountain climates tended to do. She also wore a fanny pack to carry her essentials.

  The tea Charlotte made wasn’t enough to keep her irritation from rising while she waited on Peter, who still hadn’t shown up when it was well after ten. When the clock approached 10:30, Phoe began drumming her fingers loudly on an end table.

  “He’s doing this to me on purpose, Char. I can’t believe his nerve, standing me up like this! It was stupid to ask him in the first place.”

  “Like he has ever been on time before,” commented Charlotte. “He still has half an hour before the car will be here for you. Have you tried calling him?”

  “You know I didn’t call him!” she fumed. A considerate person, or someone other than Peter, would have called to say that they were running late. “You think I should call him?”

  As the time crept toward 10:40, Phoe glared at the clock, as if that would magically bring Peter to her door.

  “Phoe, dear,” Charlotte asked, gently, after arriving with another cup of tea. “What is the worst part of Mr. Kellerman not showing up in time?”

  “If and when I go down in history as the fool who went after an artifact that doesn’t exist, I want someone else to drag down with me. Peter is perfect for the part.”

  “Well, at least you’re not being selfish, dear,” Charlotte deadpanned.

  When 10:45 arrived, Phoe decided to go on without the man who had her property in his possession. She worked out several scenarios where she’d be able to trick Peter into giving her the Head of Olmec. She could never forget the heartlessness he had shown when he put her in a no-win situation. She should’ve left Jonathan Kessler to his own devices. Maybe he would have survived the pickle he was in... But, in truth, maybe he wouldn’t have. In the depth of her soul, she knew if the situation had played out a hundred different ways and Jonathan was in danger, she still would’ve gone back to save him and lost the artifact she coveted.

  At 10:55, Phoe gathered her bags without saying a word. She hugged Charlotte, exchanged goodbyes and then she trudged outside. The limousine was already waiting for her, just as the lawyer promised. She took a deep breath as the driver exited the car and rushed over to grab her bags. She watched him set them inside the trunk and then opened the back passenger door, motioning for her to climb inside. She smiled politely, only to have it fade when she saw Peter sitting next to the wet bar with a glass of Scotch on the rocks in his hand.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she seethed.

  He regarded her quietly, wearing a smug look of supreme satisfaction. It was the very look which had always infuriated Phoe. He smiled as he poured her a drink and then handed it to her. “Appletini slightly cool, correct? Oh, and I was invited. By you, I believe.”

  “Ooh, I knew you’d say that! You know what I mean! What are you doing in here?”

  “I got here early and had a wonderful talk with Bob. Did you know he’s from Colorado?”

  “Did you even think to come in and let me know that you were here?” she raged. His silence came as no surprise and left her struggling for something else to say. What she came up with was far from what she wanted to say. “Who the hell is Bob?”

  “Our driver, of course. He showed me this magnificent automobile and then guided me to my favorite part.”

  “The wet bar.”

  “Yes, indeed, my dear Phoe. The wet bar.”

  Dressed in khaki shorts with a matching shirt, and hiking boots with black socks, he was a fashion disaster. But, he would be the one most comfortable that day, and she wished she had made a better wardrobe choice.

  Phoe took a sip from her drink, thinking to herself how this skill of Peter’s promised a nice backup vocation, should things ever go south for him in the ancient relic recovery biz. She attempted to make herself comfortable in the seat facing Peter’s, glaring at him. She had fought so hard to stay away from him that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with him so near, and at her invitation. She went with cool and aloof while attempting to settle comfortably into the leather seat of the limo.

  “You need a passport for where we’re going.”

  Peter smiled. “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace where we need a passport.”

  “Well then, it’s a good thing that I updated it recently. I have it with me. Thank you for your concern.”

  The rest of the ride to Taos Regional Airport was a quiet one. Rather than consider the fact that her nemesis was sitting across from her in the car, Phoe chose to think about the details of the quest. The first stop would be Germany because of what the swastika represented to certain people: a symbol of Thor’s lightning. The earliest swastika was found in what is now known as Mezine, Ukraine around 10,000 B.C. If that proved fruitless, India and Iran were next on the list, where other forms of the swastika originated.

  What if the swastika is a dead end? Is this the right way to go?

  She had never been in that kind of a dilemma before. Then again, she had never chased a fable before. She looked over at Peter, to find him studying her intently.
As if he knew the right answer.

  “You look frustrated, Phoe.” His tone and impish grin were enough to make her deny admitting her frustration.

  “What? What are you talking about? No. Why would you say that?” She could feel her face flush. With all of the destination possibilities and everything else pertaining to the Thor mythology, she couldn’t keep her thoughts straight. But, she could never admit it; at least, not to him.

  “I assume you brought me along for more than just my good looks,” he said, eyeing her compassionately. “Maybe I can help. I know this may seem like a daunting task, but we can work through this together. Even if you don’t see it yet, I’m in this with you. The sooner you let me in on your plan, the sooner I can start giving my input.”

  Curiosity was waiting to bust out of him from all sides. She could tell that much, but she still worried about losing control of the expedition. Tell him too much and watch Peter take over. It had happened before... But, in this case, where she only had incomplete ideas on where to go and how to start, it was increasingly necessary to let him in, share ideas, and get this thing on a smooth course. She sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable.

  “Okay... There’s something you should know about this trip.”

  His smile was the last thing she expected to see; worry or surprise, maybe, but not his trademark smile.

  “You have no clue where to start, do you?”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “Sometimes... but is that such a bad thing? If you don’t mind, may I say something?”

  Phoe nodded tentatively.

  “Think about the quest, first of all. Does this Kessler hate you in any way?”

  She wasn’t expecting that.

  “Not that I know of. I mean, he doesn’t like the fact I came back empty-handed from the Olmec expedition.”

  “That was for him? Oh. Sorry.”

  But not sorry enough to give it back, huh? She pushed the barb aside and tried to focus on a working partnership which she knew was right, but felt so damned wrong.