Relics (18 page)

He gave a soft laugh. “You must be new to Chicago. Yeah, they're a very big deal.”

“Chicago?”
I squeezed again.

“So, you live in Chicago?”

“Well, of course I do. Where else would I live?” He paused as he frowned in thought. “Aren't we in Chicago now?”

I felt Reo's concern. “No, Matt, we're in San Francisco.”

“Wow, really?  I love San Francisco. I don't get to visit as often as I'd like to. We're planning our next vacation there, though.” Another pause as he connected the dots. “So, how did I get to San Francisco?”

“Matt, what's the last thing you remember?”

“I was at the office going over the project with Paul. We got a call to go to the site, but I don't remember why.” This time the pause was much longer. “I'm sorry, I don't remember anything after that.”

Reo asked softly, “Do you remember the dagger?”

“No. What dagger?” Matt seemed uneasy, though.

“Do you remember the date?”

“May 14th?  I think the 14th.”

Over two months before.

Reo's voice took on a firmer tone. “Matt, the doctors have said there's no permanent damage to your head. There's no brain damage. What damage there was has healed. You need to wake up. You need to open your eyes and start living again.”

“I don't want to.” Matt's face and voice were agonized.

“Why, Matt?  Why don't you want to wake up?” Reo's voice was full of concern and caring. I could feel him start to project, though.

“I don't know. I'm – look, I'm a standup guy, but I'm – afraid. There is something – I don't know – I'm just afraid.”

“Matt, your wife is here. You must wake up, now. I know you're afraid, guy, but you've got to think of her.” Reo was fully projecting concern, safety, love.

“We need to leave now, Matt.”

“Leave?  No, please, you just got here.”

“You can come with us, though.”

Matt paced, undecided, each stride becoming a bit more frantic. He started to fade along with the room. We heard his voice, forlorn, with tears,
“I can't.”

Reo's voice called after him.
“I'll be back, Matt. I promise.”

I faintly heard from the distance,
“Yes, please.”

Reo released my hand. I opened my eyes to see him give Matt's hand a gentle pat. “We'll try again later on, guy. You hang in there.”

We turned to Jones and Thulu, both of us shaking our heads.

“What?” asked Jones.

“He doesn't remember,” I said. “He thinks it's over two months ago, before the dagger was found.”

Reo added, thoughtfully, “For now, anyway. I'm sure the memories are locked away somewhere in his mind, but the part we could connect to is very superficial. He's afraid, and he doesn't want to wake up.”

Jones took the news much better than I would have expected. “So, it's a process. When would you try again?”

Reo thought a moment. “Not for several days at least. Give him some time to think things over.”

I kept my mouth shut. I thought Matt was a bit weak and resented his retreat into his own mind. Sure he'd had it rough recently, but he didn't even know about Jenna yet, and the coma was pretty unfair to his wife. Especially since I knew he was staying there on purpose. Something must have shown on my face because Thulu and Jones both looked at me questioningly. I just shook my head in disgust, walked out of the room and waited for the others.

They followed, and Jones stopped at the desk to tell the nurse to add all of our names as visitors. We were cousins, he claimed. We all tried to look cousin-ish.

In the parking lot, we stood together by our car.

“What next?” asked Thulu. “Do you have any leads at all on the pitcher or the other panels or the scroll? Anything for me to go on? I'm not sure why, but I'm still coming up blank.”

Jones shook his head. “I'm working on it.”

“I'm going to go back to work on the locket. Maybe something will break if I try to work on something else.” Thulu’s voice held only a hint of irritation.

Jones seemed a bit surprised. “Does that happen often?”

“Storm's a-comin',” Reo said, interrupting whatever Thulu had been about to say.

We all looked up into a clear, cloudless blue sky. We looked back at Reo expectantly. He shrugged. Thulu and I were used to his cryptic remarks, but we still usually gave him a hard time over them. This time he got a pass, since Jones was present.

We said goodbye to Jones, who strode to his car, carrying the bag with the cup. Stuart held open the back door for him and waved to us before getting into the driver's seat.

We drove back to our house, mostly in silence. Once we got there, Reo went in for his bag and left. He said he had to get his head clear for his show.

The house was quiet. No ghost kids or dog. Thulu and I turned on our monitors. I checked Jane's email to find the jeweler had answered. I printed a copy of the receipt, as well as the picture. The jeweler had even included the original order, so I printed that, as well. I sent back a “thank you” email, as I believed Jane would have done.

I joined Thulu in the search for pageants. Since Jane had bought the locket recently, we knew we didn't have to go back very far. The problem was combing through the crap to find the one connection we needed. That was where Thulu let his intuition carry him, quickly eliminating the unconnected. I was much slower since I had to actually read a bit to see if something fit.

The initial search of “Cara” and “pageant” brought almost two hundred thousand hits. Lovely. Thulu looked at the first few pages, trying to get a sense of things. Sometimes they triggered his finder sense, even if they had nothing to do with what we were working on.

While I surfed through Caras, I pulled out my phone and checked my voice mail. I had turned the phone off before we went in to see the Masons and had forgotten to turn it back on. Nana Fae had left a message reminding us we had a barbeque this weekend at Thulu's parents' house and, by the way, what was new on our case.

I left the room, so I wouldn't disturb Thulu and returned her call. I brought her up to speed on the case. She said she didn't have any ideas, but that she did feel “weird.” I told her what Reo had said, both his genie comment and the storm one. She said that was exactly how she felt, especially the storm one.  We ended with plans to discuss it more at the barbeque.

“Got it!” Thulu called triumphantly from the other room.

I went back to Thulu. I didn't bother asking what convoluted path he had wandered to get to it. Once when he tried to explain how he “found” things, I fell asleep in the middle of his explanation. He never let me forget that one, either. Something will make him think of something else – A leads to B, sometimes to C, sometimes to G or F or X. I simply can't keep it straight. It works. That's the important thing, as far as I'm concerned.

“Cara Thompson won a pageant at her church. Some summer thing they did. Her dad is Will Thompson and a deacon at the church.”

“And daddy dearest wasn't above buying a stolen locket?  Charming.”

“Nope. We have an appointment with him at three today.”

“Really. How did you get his number?”

“From the church.” Thulu dimpled at me. I stared at him. I didn't want to know what story he'd told. I wasn't going to ask. I really wasn't.

“Okay, what story did you tell them to get his phone number?”

“That we were new to the church and he was going to help with some marriage counseling and I'd misplaced his number. I used a variation on that theme when I called him.” I gave him a mock dark look that clearly said he was going to need marriage counseling. He dimpled again.

“He owns his own business and said he'd be happy to meet with us. It would give him an excuse to leave his office early.” I rolled my eyes. I was not going to be charmed by my charming husband. I wasn't.

“I'm going to make a sandwich,” I stated grumpily and left the room.

“Make one for me too, please,” he called after me.

“I'll think about it,” I mumbled from the hall. I took a few steps, stopped and sighed. “What kind?”

I heard laughter from the other room. “Whatever you're having is fine.”

I threw together a quick, cold lunch of salad and ham sandwiches and sodas. I loaded everything up on a tray and took it back into the study.

“What are you looking for now?” I asked as I passed the study door on my way to the family room. I set the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and turned on the TV.

Thulu shrugged as he followed me in. “Just looking. Seeing if I could get something on any of the other stuff.”

“Did you?”

“Nope,” he said. He moved over to join me on the sofa and turned on the TV. We sat munching, watching TV. Thulu liked to stay current with events, but I hated the depressing stories and seeing other people's pain. I thought we dealt with enough of it in our job.

Soon it was time to go and we got ready to leave for the Thompsons' place. I stuffed the receipt, picture and order in a folder and slipped it into my bag. My tablet and gun were still there.

Since traffic was light, it didn't take too long to get to the Thompsons'. They lived in a condo in a nice area, close to their church.

We had a bit of trouble finding parking and eventually settled in a spot a couple of blocks away.

Thompson answered the door with a big smile and a bigger belly. He clearly didn't believe in denying himself the pleasure of food.

His wife poked her head from the living room, where we could hear some inane game show on the TV. She also gave us a big smile and welcomed us. I doubted we'd be welcome for much longer.

He led us down a short hallway that ran next to the staircase and into a small den. It was rather cramped, with a desk that held a laptop, a chair and a loveseat. What it lacked in decor, it made up for in being neat and clean.

Thompson invited us to sit. Instead, I pulled the folder from my purse and handed it to him. He was puzzled as he took it and opened it. He looked up, guilty and embarrassed.

“As you can see, Mr. Thompson, the locket was ordered by Jane Andrews. The 'Cara' it was designed and purchased for is a doctor. Her grandmother is now deceased, but it was her wish that the locket be recovered and given to her granddaughter.” Thulu's voice was almost gentle.

“We're prepared to simply take the locket and let it go. There's no reason to call in the authorities.” I gave him my “You are so screwed” smile. He turned gray, but nodded.

“My daughter is upstairs.” He hesitated. “What am I going to tell her?”

“Tell her the jeweler made a mistake and gave you the wrong locket. That her locket will be finished soon, but we need this one back now.” I was firm.

Thompson nodded again. “I'll call her down here. It will be better that way.”

He opened the door and called up the stairs. When there wasn't any answer he pulled out his phone and sent a text message to her. A minute later a door opened upstairs. Light footsteps came down the staircase.

“What's up, Daddy?” she said in a purring tone.

Cara Thompson was beautiful. She was going to give her daddy all kinds of grief, if she hadn't already. Cheerleader blonde hair, brown eyes, china doll face, a great figure. Yep, this dad definitely had his hands full.

“These people are from the jeweler, where your locket was made.” We hadn't said that, but it worked, so we let it go.

She turned her smile to us, gaze lingering on Thulu.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”

No one spoke. I looked at Thompson, and he was staring at his daughter. I could see panic building in his eyes. Hiding my sigh, I turned back to Cara.

“There was an error with your locket. The person who gave it to your father made a mistake. She gave him a locket that was designed for another Cara. That Cara would like her locket.”

Cara looked at me blankly for a moment, but her expression hardened as she glared at me. “It's mine. It has my name in it.”

“It has the name 'Cara' in it, yes, but it wasn't the one your dad bought for you. We need to have it returned, please.”

Her face darkened even more as she put one hand on a shapely hip. “Fine, then give me my locket.”

Thulu smoothly inserted, “I do apologize, but your locket isn't ready yet. I'm sure your father will be receiving it soon.” He gave Thompson a significant look.

Thompson was no dummy. He joined right in. “Absolutely, pumpkin, they had to special order something for it and it's taking longer.”

“Special order what?”

“Now, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?” His attempt at joviality fell flat. Cara looked at him suspiciously.

“May we please have the locket?” Thulu was sweetness itself.

“Whatever. I'll have to go get it.” She gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Oh, you don't wear it?  Where is it?” I was not sweet.

“It's upstairs,” she said in a very exasperated tone. I'd only asked because she'd made it sound like it was halfway across the planet.

“Thank you, we'll wait right here.”

Cara turned and flounced out. Her steps were not quite a stomp, but they were not as light as her trip down had been. Thompson blew out a sigh in relief. I think I knew why he had wanted us there.

We waited a couple of minutes before she returned, locket clutched in one hand, fine gold chain swinging from her fist. She handed it to Thulu, who handed it to me.

“It's okay, it was crap anyway.”

Thompson choked.

“It's gorgeous and those diamonds are of a wonderful quality.” I felt duty bound to defend Jane's present.

“Oh, I thought they were rhinestones. They didn't look like diamonds to me.”

Yeah, chick, I'm sure you're a diamond expert. I kept my mouth tightly closed.

“Besides,” she continued, “it had some cult symbol in it. I should have known it wasn't mine. Daddy doesn't put up with cults.” Her voice was smug.

I opened the locket and stared at Cara with shock.

“What the hell did you do to it?”

“I scratched out that devil sign. Those snakes were creepy.”

Thulu leaned over to look inside the locket. He started tugging me by the arm.

“Thanks, we'll be going now,” said Thulu.

“It isn't a devil sign, you stupid, little bitch. It's a caduceus. It's a doctor's symbol.” I remembered Jane telling us she'd had that put in.

Thulu was tugging away, Cara was speechless at being called a “bitch,” and Thompson had settled into shock. I turned to him, furious.

“You deserve everything this little bitch dishes out to you over your lifetime, and I hope you both have very, very long lives. Good job, dad.”

I reached over and snatched the folder from his hands and stomped past Thulu, who followed right on my heels. He didn't let me slam the door.

He caught up to me on the sidewalk. I was so mad, I was in tears. Thulu took my hand as we went back to the car. Once inside, he took the locket from my clenched fingers. He examined the inside closely. The caduceus had been almost gouged out. I was surprised she hadn't gone clean through the gold.

I knew enough about jewelry to know that it was more than a simple repair. At least the diamonds were intact. Hopefully it could be resurfaced on the inside. If not, maybe it could be melted down and remade, but it wasn't the same, somehow. I felt awful, but I consoled myself that Cara would never know. Jones would foot the bill to have the locket remade, if need be. I'd make sure of that. I wasn't planning on telling Jane either, although I wondered if she was watching, invisible. If so, she wasn't making her presence known.

Mindless destruction irritated me. It's a definite hot button with me. Book burning or destruction of property was something I simply didn't understand. I could understand if something was ruined beyond repair, but the locket really was gorgeous.

Thulu took the folder from me and looked inside. He started the car and pulled smoothly into traffic. He's a good driver, my Thulu. I don't think most people are. They're too distracted and make me nervous. Working with the dead has made me all too aware of my own mortality. Thulu shared that with me and didn't have to prove how cool he was. He drove fast, but safely.