The Gilded Mirror

by L. M. Somerton

  “We’ll work on that later,” Gage said. “We are wet, cold and we still have to do the return walk along the trail and hope that we weren’t followed. The tin will have to wait.”

  “Okay.” Landry jumped through the water first then Gage followed, shedding a shower of droplets. He set a rapid pace on the route to the parking lot as much to keep them warm as anything. Landry didn’t complain, just strolled along next to him. As if by mutual agreement, they didn’t talk. Gage kept his eyes and ears open, scanning between the trees for any sign of the men from earlier. With his nerves on edge, it seemed to take an age to get to the parking lot. He paused in the trees, gripping Landry’s arm to keep him still. They had to walk out into the open to get to the Jeep, but it was the only vehicle remaining in the lot. If the people tracking them had been in one of the other cars, they were already gone. Gage wondered why.

  “I was expecting them to be here,” he said. “If they knew what car we were using, all they had to do was lie in wait.” He shielded Landry with his body as they walked across the open ground then wasted no time getting into the car.

  “I’m cold.” Landry was shivering.

  “I’m gonna drive a few miles and find a gas station where we can use the restroom to dry off a bit. I want to make sure we’re not being followed.”

  “Where do you think they’ve gone?” Landry was rooting around in Gage’s backpack, which was in the foot well by his feet.

  “I’ve no idea. Like I said, I expected them to be waiting for us but I’m glad they weren’t. What are you doing?”

  “I wasn’t talking about the men, I’m looking for the barbecue chicken of course.” Landry looked at him as if he’d asked the stupidest question in the world.

  “I should have known. The package is in the main compartment.”

  “I’m hungry! Did you have your gun with you while we were out there, Gage?”

  “It’s locked in the glove compartment. I should have taken it with us.”

  “We weren’t expecting to be followed. We could have taken them, though, right?” Landry spoke around a mouthful of chicken, which Gage had to admit did smell good. “You wouldn’t have needed to shoot them.”

  “Save some of that for me.”

  “Okay, don’t answer my question. I know when you’re deliberately avoiding a topic. This chicken is so good.”

  Gage kept his eyes on the road and gritted his teeth. He was wet, muddy, hungry and grumpy. He was also sorely tempted to pull over, bend Landry over the hood and give him a sound spanking.

  Landry, with the open package of chicken still on his lap, fished in the backpack and pulled out the tin that he’d found. Gage estimated it to be about twelve inches long, six wide and six deep. He couldn’t wait to see what was inside, but Landry was even more impatient judging by the way he was shaking and pawing at the tin.

  “I guess it’s locked, but it’s also badly corroded around the seal. Choosing the dampest place on the planet to hide it wasn’t that great an idea. I don’t think Royston was overly endowed in the brain cell department. It’s gonna take a crowbar to get this open.”

  “Well, you shaking it around like a metal maraca isn’t going to help any,” Gage grumbled.

  “You have that little wrinkle between your eyes you get when you have a headache,” Landry said. “You want me to drive?”

  “It’s not a wrinkle, it’s a crease,” Gage said. “And on what plane of existence would you driving make it any better? It’s a headache. You driving would guarantee a migraine if not a mental breakdown.”

  “You do have a point.” Landry shoved the tin back into the backpack. “But in my defense that last incident with the fire hydrant was definitely not my fault.”

  “You hit it because you were avoiding a squirrel. You’d only been three blocks away to drop off that bureau. It’s a darn good job we have friends in the fire department, and I swear every time I see that fucking squirrel it sits there laughing at me.”

  “It was only a teeny dent,” Landry mumbled.

  Gage spotted a gas station coming up. “I’m gonna pull in here. Bring the bag, I don’t want to leave it in the vehicle.”

  Gage topped up the tank then went inside to pay and get the key to the restroom. He and Landry dried off as best they could using the hand dryer and paper towels.

  “I grazed my knee,” Landry said, dabbing at the wound with a towel. “I didn’t even notice.” He rolled his trouser leg down. “I’m gonna get more snacks, I’ll meet you back at the Jeep.”

  Gage hovered at the door while Landry shopped, knowing that he was being ridiculously overprotective, but not willing to allow Landry to walk back to the car alone. When Landry emerged with a paper sack of junk food, he gave Gage a knowing look. Gage shrugged. “I need to look after you. Sue me.”

  Landry gave him a brief peck on the cheek. “Love you, you big marshmallow.”

  “There’s no one watching. I could have you hogtied, gagged and in the trunk in seconds and no one would notice.”

  “Can you save the kinky stuff till we get home?” Landry put an extra sway in his hips as he marched to the car, and Gage followed, with a pained sigh. “And I’m not getting naked, either. I’m only damp and that picnic blanket is scratchy.”

  About five miles down the road, Gage found a spot to pull over. He left the engine running to keep the Jeep warm.

  Landry dug into his paper sack. “I got you some aspirin and a bottle of juice.” He handed over the tablets and the drink. “I also got donuts, a bag of chips and some candy.”

  “I’ll take the rest of the chicken,” Gage said, reaching for the package. “Thanks for the painkillers.”

  Landry gave him a shy smile. “I get to look after you too. Submissive’s prerogative.”

  Gage gave a brief nod, but he was touched. “This chicken is great, but we need to eat quickly. I’m really suspicious as to why those guys following us didn’t stick around, like they had someplace better to be.”

  “The map!” Landry exclaimed. “What if they took the opportunity to beat us back to Seattle? The original is hidden at home.”

  “If that is the case, ten minutes to eat won’t make much difference,” Gage said. “They’ll be a ways ahead of us. Carson said he was taking Petey to his place for the day, so I don’t think we have to worry about him being home. I’ll drop Carson a quick text to tell him not to go back to the store.” Worry showed in Landry’s pretty eyes, and Gage was ashamed that he had put it there. “It’ll be okay.” Gage wasn’t too sure that was the truth, but it was what Landry needed to hear. He patted Landry’s knee. It worked because within five minutes of them getting back on the road, Landry was asleep, mouth open and snoring. Gage tried to relax his shoulders in an attempt to ease his now throbbing head and hoped that the painkillers would kick in soon. Much to his relief, traffic was relatively light and there were no snarl-ups in the city. He pulled up outside Treasure Trove ninety minutes later.

  Landry was still sound asleep, so Gage decided not to disturb him. He looked so young, almost fragile, in sleep. There was mud in his hair and a leaf stuck out from between the blond strands.

  He’s going to be mortified when he realizes how filthy his clothes are. Gage held down a laugh and snapped a picture with his cell. He slipped from the car, pushing the door closed behind him. Landry didn’t stir.

  Gage walked down the side of the building to the rear gate, palming his keys. The lock was still secure and there was no sign that anyone had attempted to break-in. Gage let himself in then crossed the courtyard to the door that granted access to the stairwell at the back of the store. He had taken two steps into the hallway when a scrape had him whirling around, but there was nobody there. A fat pigeon had landed in the yard and was pecking away at some unfortunate insect. Gage chuckled, embarrassed at his own paranoia. He decided to check the apartment, make some coffee then return to the Jeep to wake Landry.

  Something cannoned into his back, throwing him face first into th
e stairs. The pressure of cold metal against the nape of his neck made him freeze.

  “Stay down, Detective. Don’t try anything stupid.” Gage had no desire to lose his head and the results of a gunshot at such close range would not be pretty. “Up.” He shrugged off the jab to his shoulder. Once on his feet, he twisted to take a look at his assailants. There were two of them, both big, both wearing balaclavas. From their size, Gage thought they could well be the two men he’d seen on the trail in Bellingham. He cursed his stupidity at leaving the gate to the alley unlocked.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” Gage couldn’t identify the accent other than it didn’t sound American or British.

  “I dropped him off at the market. I’m meeting him there in an hour.” If these guys had been hiding in the alley while he unlocked the gate, they couldn’t have seen him pull up or know that Landry was still in the Jeep.

  “Nice and easy, you’re going to walk up the stairs then let us in to your apartment. Then you’re going to give us the map. Cooperate and you’ll make that pick-up at the market.”

  There was no point denying he knew about the map. If he led the men to the apartment, Landry would stay safe, and Gage could buy some time. He tramped upstairs, hoping to gain an advantage at some point.

  Inside the apartment, everything was quiet. Gage walked to the sitting room where he had more space to maneuver then turned to face the gunman and his associate.

  “The map.”

  “I’d love to help you, but I don’t know where it is.”

  “Bullshit. A shattered kneecap takes a while to recover from. I’ll ask you once more. Where is the map?”

  “And I’m telling you, genius, I have no idea.” Gage had decided that his only course of action was to charge the gunman when he heard a key in the front door. “Fuck, Landry.”

  “Loverboy didn’t take long fetching groceries then.”

  “Landry, run!” Gage yelled, but it was too late. Landry, sleep tousled and bewildered, appeared in the doorway. Gage made a dive for the gunman but caught a blow to the temple that knocked him to the ground, dazed.

  “Give us the fucking map, now!”

  “He doesn’t know where it is,” Landry shouted. “Leave him alone.”

  Gage watched, helpless as one of the men grabbed Landry then twisted his arm up behind his back. “But you do, don’t you?”

  Gage attempted to get to his feet but got a kick in the ribs for his trouble and a renewed view of the rug.

  “Don’t hurt him!” Landry fought the man holding him. “I’ll give you the stupid map. It’s in the bedroom.”

  “Go and get it. Bring it back here or your boyfriend is going to gain a few additional holes.”

  Landry blanched and his eyes glistened. Gage nodded at him. “Do as he says, Landry.”

  Landry, escorted by the second man, headed for the bedroom, returning a minute later clutching a sizable purple vibrator which he thrust at the gunman.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  “You wanted the map, it’s in there.”

  Gage snorted into the rug. The kick to his hip was worth it. The gunman threw the vibrator at his colleague who juggled it from one hand to the other with a grimace.

  “Haven’t you ever seen a sex toy before you sad excuse for a human being? Unscrew it,” Landry said. “The map is in the compartment where the batteries go.”

  “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

  Gage couldn’t believe Landry’s front. He prayed the gunman didn’t lose his temper. With a huff of impatience, Landry grabbed the toy back, unscrewed the base and knocked it against his palm until a role of paper dropped out. “You’ve got what you came for, so leave us alone.” He handed over the map. The man holding the gun took a quick look then shoved it into his jacket pocket.

  “Don’t follow us.”

  “You couldn’t pay me enough to trek after your sorry ass!” Landry yelled.

  “Landry love, please stop taunting the bad men.” As soon as they had gone and the apartment door slammed, Gage hauled himself to his feet. Landry threw himself into Gage’s arms.

  “You’re not safe to be left alone, Gage. Are you okay?” Landry touched Gage’s temple. His fingers were ice-cold.

  “My headache’s back,” Gage said, giving him a wry grin. “I can’t believe you hid the map in a sex toy.”

  “It was a good place. Who would ever think to look there?”

  “I’m sorry you had to hand it over. I can’t believe they got the drop on me. I should have been more observant.”

  “Not much you can do when someone’s got a gun in your face,” Landry said. “And who says I handed it over?”

  “I saw the map…”

  “You saw a map. I made a copy. Except it wasn’t quite the same as the original and of course there’s no watermark.”

  “So where is the original?”

  “We own more than one vibrator, love.”

  Laughing hurt. Gage held Landry close. “I need to call this in, but it can wait a few minutes while I hold my ingenious, brave lover. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

  Landry snuggled closer, and for once Gage let him be the one to provide comfort and support.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I can’t believe you let me nap when we have a tin of treasure to investigate,” Landry said, tucking into his second slice of pizza. “I’d already slept in the car.”

  “Not for long, and we both needed rest. Besides, it wasn’t intentional. One minute we were chatting, the next you were snoring on my chest and you kind of lulled me to sleep too.”

  “I do not snore!”

  “You do. Like a puppy.”

  “Sounds kinda cute. How did it go when you reported our unwelcome visitors?”

  “It’s on the record, that’s the main thing but there wasn’t any point in getting anyone over here. They were wearing balaclavas and gloves, so no description and no chance of prints. All I could say was that they were white, one had blue eyes, the other brown and that one had a scar running through his eyebrow.”

  “You saw all that! I was so scared I couldn’t even say what they were wearing.”

  “You didn’t come across as scared, you seemed mad.”

  “That was reaction to terror. My inner snark surfaced because they wanted to hurt you.”

  “When I’m back at work I can get CCTV footage pulled to see if we can identify their vehicle but it’ll no doubt turn out to be a rental or stolen. Our chances of catching them are minimal.”

  “I suppose you’re right, though I’d rather they were both thrown in a cell and given the same treatment they gave you.”

  “Wow, feisty! We don’t do that, you know.”

  Landry shrugged. “I’d help. Pizza was the best idea you’ve had in a long time. Stuffed crust is my favorite.” He licked his fingers. He and Gage were seated at their dining table, dressed in their pajamas, with cans of soda and a large open pizza box. Next to that sat the Bellingham tin, as Landry had named it. Gage had already rubbed around it with some wire wool to get rid of as much of the rust as possible and now he had his Swiss army knife open and was attempting to insert the blade into the join between the lid and the body of the box.

  “I’m seeing a whole new side of you.”

  “I’m a man of many layers,” Landry said. “My violent layer is buried deep—like Mariana Trench deep.”

  “Look at you with the deep-sea references. This is definitely easing,” Gage said. “I’ll have a go at picking the lock.”

  “You can do that?” Landry discovered new admiration for Gage’s talents. “That’s so cool. I can use you in the store to open things that come in without keys.”

  “I’ve picked up a few skills here and there.” Gage probed the keyhole with a spiky tool. “These boxes are designed to be particularly secure, but the mechanism is rusted.” Landry drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. “Stop that. It won’t help me do this any quicker.”

  Landry sat
on his hands. He couldn’t wait to see what was in the tin. “I’m imagining gold bars and jewels and treasure!”

  “Well keep that imagination of yours under control, because I don’t think the tin is heavy enough for any of that.”

  “A boy can dream.”

  “What you think of as treasure and what constituted value to Royston are most likely to be different things. Got it!” There was a grating click and the lid of the tin flew open. “You can do the honors.” Gage pushed the tin in front of Landry.

  Landry couldn’t immediately see anything because the contents of the tin were wrapped in a soft cloth. Carefully, he unfolded the top layer, spreading it out. He lifted several items from the tin and laid them on the table.

  “So, we have some medals, I guess they’re Royston’s from the war. Letters bound in a blue ribbon. A faded newspaper clipping and a book of nursery rhymes.” Landry lifted the cloth to check underneath it. “Oh, look!” A tarnished coin sat in the corner of the tin. Landry picked up the coin, which was black with dirt, to take a closer look. “It’s a twenty-dollar coin,” he said. “That would have been a lot back then. I can see the date, 1927.” He added it to the pile of treasure.

  “The newspaper clipping is interesting,” Gage said. He handed it over.

  “Nazi art theft,” Landry read. “There are very few known Raphael self-portraits, and scholars believe that one may be Portrait of a Young Man—circa 1515—which was acquired by the Czartoryski family in Poland in 1800. Afterward, it was put on view at the family’s museum in Krakow. But during World War II, the painting disappeared, along with hundreds of other pieces that the Nazis took from the family’s cellar as loot.” Landry exchanged a look with Gage. He gulped. “Briefly, there was hope that it had been found—reports in 2012 claimed that the painting was located, though these were quickly debunked. For now, an empty frame that once held the canvas is on view at the National Museum in Krakow. That’s so sad. Imagine going to see an empty frame.”

  “If that is Raphael, he was pretty,” Gage observed gesturing at an image of the missing portrait. Landry glared. “Not as pretty as you, sweetheart.”