It Takes an Archeologist

by Edward Kendrick

  Gideon wasn't as certain as Cole seemed to be. But he's right about one thing. It's time I let go of the guilt. Or at least try to. I've been living with it for…it seems like forever. Even if it is true and I was responsible for Robin's death, haven't I paid my penance? Cole thinks so. But then… He gazed long and hard at Cole. Cole didn't flinch or turn away. If anything, he returned Gideon's gaze with caring and compassion. Maybe he's biased?

  "I…have to think about this," Gideon said. "About everything that happened, and everything you said." He stood, looking down at Cole. "Thank you."

  Cole smiled up at him. "You saved my life. I owe you the same in return. Whether you stay or leave, it's the least I can do for you."

  "I'm leaving. I mean…I'm going back to the apartment. From there"—he shook his head—"I don't know." Gideon squeezed Cole's shoulder. "I promise, when I figure it out, I'll let you know one way or the other."

  Cole put his hand over Gideon's. "That's all I ask."

  *****

  Will he stay? Or will he be gone by this time tomorrow? Cole watched the front door close behind Gideon. Does it matter? Even if he's finally able to come to terms with all that happened, that doesn't mean he sees me as anything more than a friend, at best. Or just as someone he helped stop an art thief, because that's his job.

  With a sigh, Cole got up. After taking the coffee cups to the kitchen to wash, he locked the front door, set the alarm, then went up to bed. While he showered, his own mantra ran through his mind. He's worth my caring. We could be good together, if he lets it happen. If he wants it to happen. He prayed Gideon would, but he wasn't placing any bets on it.

  Chapter Nine

  Cole showed up at the precinct at nine thirty the next morning to sign his statement. When he asked the desk clerk where he should go, the man checked then told him Detective Hawk would come down to get him. Quint did, taking Cole up to the squad room. He gave Cole a copy of his statement, which Cole read and signed.

  "Has Gideon come in?" Cole asked when he finished, trying to make it sound like a casual question—which it wasn't.

  "Came and went, about an hour ago," Quint told him. "From the way he was acting, I think he's eager to get out of town. He said he'd already packed up what he took to the apartment and his only other stop was to check out of the hotel."

  "Oh." Cole's spirits deflated. "I suppose I can't blame him. He's got a business to run, and he can't do it from here."

  "True." Quint looked at Cole, one eyebrow lifting. "You're going to miss having him around, aren't you? You do know he's—"

  "Not available. I know." Cole broke in. He almost said "gay". But it wasn't his place to reveal that.

  "Yeah, that too, I suppose. Wasn't what I was going to say, though." Quint rapped a knuckle on the desk, looking thoughtful. "Okay, I might be talking out of turn, but I think you should know. I'm pretty sure Gideon's gay, based on things I've noticed—the way he looks at you, the tone of his voice when he talks to me about you. It's more personal than something a man who considers you to be only his friend would act. Closeted as hell, but even in this day and age some men are, for whatever reason." He held up a hand to keep Cole from commenting. "He's also interested in you as more than just a friend, if I don't miss my bet. It's only a feeling, and I could be way off base, but as I said, I've watched him watching you when he thinks no one's paying attention."

  Cole scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I wish I could believe that." He smiled sourly. "His taking off without even a word of goodbye says otherwise."

  "Give him time, Cole. There's a big difference between accepting that it's safe to come out, and doing it, especially at his age."

  "I guess," Cole replied, even though he knew that wasn't really the truth. Gideon had been out, until Robin's death screwed with his head. After that… Has he been celibate for the last twenty years? Hard to believe, but possible, I suppose.

  "Enough with the lecturing," Quint said, chuckling. "I've got work to do; you've got to be at the gallery pretty soon. In fact"—he glanced at the clock—"you're already late."

  "Meaning James is out front, pacing. Thanks for the advice."

  "For what it was worth, you're welcome."

  *****

  At the same time Cole was opening the gallery, Gideon was on his way to the airport—wondering as he drove if he was making the biggest mistake of his life—leaving without even saying goodbye to Cole.

  Not leaving. Running away.

  He hadn't slept after returning to the apartment. Every time he dozed off, he woke to the memories of his time with Robin. He knew his subconscious was trying to work through what happened in relation to what Cole had said.

  Is Cole right? Was Robin's death just a tragic accident that he brought on himself? Perhaps. I was a part of what went wrong between us—but so was Robin. Why didn't I see it? He knew the answer to that question, after everything Cole had pointed out. I was so wrapped up in my own pain when I thought he was cheating on me, I let it fester and grow. I almost savored it. Am I that emotionally masochistic? Apparently. Then, when he died, I added guilt into the mix. Gideon didn't like that idea in the least but he had to face the fact it seemed to be the truth.

  "I have to stop using the past to keep me from…from living my life," he said under his breath. "Am I running, rather than taking a chance with Cole, because I'm afraid I might make the same mistake again and hurt him, the way I did Robin?"

  If he were going to be honest with himself—and he knew it was about time he was—he'd avoided any chances to form a relationship with someone for that very reason. Quick hookups, when he needed physical release, he could handle—although they rarely happened.

  Another sign of my masochism? Another way of punishing myself for Robin's death? If so, I'm one fucked up man.

  "Maybe now's the time to change that." He saw an exit off the highway and took it, then pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. He sat for a moment before taking out his phone.

  "Alex," he said when his assistant answered. "A change of plans. Cancel whatever appointments I have for the next week or so. There's something more I still have to take care of out here."

  "Gideon! You're not serious."

  "Dead serious. If someone needs to talk to me personally, give them this number. But it had better be damned important."

  "When isn't it?" Alex replied with a sigh of frustration. "All right. You're the boss."

  Gideon chuckled. "I sometimes wonder about that. Thanks for putting up with my…idiosyncrasies."

  "No problem, most of the time. Just keep in touch. Okay?"

  "I will."

  They went over a couple of things that Alex needed Gideon to know then hung up. The minute they did, Gideon pulled out of the lot and returned to the highway, heading back the way he'd come.

  *****

  Cole's office door was open, so he heard when someone entered the gallery. Since it was slow, he knew James could handle the customer and he went back to what he was doing.

  "You look busy. Maybe I should leave you alone."

  Cole turned in shock to see Gideon leaning casually against the doorframe.

  "I thought you'd be halfway across the country by now," Cole said.

  Gideon shrugged. "I thought I would be, too. But I changed my mind."

  "You decided to be polite and come back to say goodbye?" Cole shot him a sour look.

  "Not really."

  "Then why are you here?"

  "Because you are?" Gideon smiled.

  Cole's heart did a stutter step. "You're serious?"

  "Very." Gideon came into the room, resting his hip on the edge of the desk, cocking his head as he gazed at Cole. "I did a lot of thinking after I left last night and more this morning while driving to the airport. I've spent half my life punishing myself for what happened. You made me see that was wrong." He put one hand on Cole's shoulder. "I've also spent as much time avoiding taking a chance on someone—anyone—for fear history would repeat itself. Of cour
se, until I met you, no man seemed to care enough about me to find out why I was the way I was. We'd come together for a brief time"—he smiled ruefully—"usually a very brief time, then one of us would walk away. Okay, I'd walk away."

  Inanely, he knew, Cole said, "So you haven't been celibate for twenty years."

  Gideon broke out laughing. "I'm human. I've occasionally slept with a man if I needed to, as it's so crassly put, scratch an itch. That's it. And believe me, I kept it very secret. Much to my shame, I've kept everything about my personal life a secret from everyone who knows me."

  "That's why they think you're straight and maybe even married."

  Gideon nodded. "I never did anything to disabuse them of that idea. It was easier, believe it or not. Not that I've spent much time away from what I do. In fact, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, my whole life revolves around retrieving stolen art and putting the thieves behind bars. Or, more realistically, I run my organization and oversee the people I hire to do that."

  "So you being in the center of things while we were going after Keith and his looters was an anomaly."

  "Pretty much. I was only in town originally to supervise a sting to catch an art forger. So my staying on to help you was sort of a busman's holiday, I suppose. If I hadn't decided to step in personally and if, in the process, I hadn't met a very interesting man, I'd be back home, hiding behind the wall I'd built around my emotions since Robin's death." Gideon smiled. "Thanks to you, I can say those words now without feeling the pain and guilt I've been living with for what seems like forever."

  "I couldn't have done anything if you hadn't trusted me enough to open up about it."

  "And I wouldn't have trusted you, if you hadn't pushed through my barriers because you cared. At least I think you do."

  "You have no idea." Cole worried the corner of his lip between his teeth. "I was attracted to you almost from the beginning, even though I was certain you were straight."

  "And married," Gideon said with a ghost of a smile.

  "That too. It still didn't stop how I felt. But I'm good at burying my feelings when I know nothing will come of them."

  "You do that often?"

  "If you mean do I fall for straight, married men? Not that I know of, until now—but then, you really aren't. Do I become interested in someone who doesn't return my feelings? Doesn't everybody at least once or twice in their lifetime? Add to that, my running the gallery, then disappearing for months at a time on a dig, and I'm not the best candidate for a permanent relationship of any sort."

  "Something we have in common. I do a great deal of traveling to talk to people who need what I have to offer. Then I work with my operatives to set up what has to be done—either in the field or once I get back home—to the exclusion of anything else." Gideon's expression darkened. "Of course, that doesn't happen just because I'm dedicated to my work. It's also a way to hide from my past."

  "Was a way." Cole reached for Gideon's hand before stopping himself. "It may still take time for you to fully accept that Robin's death wasn't your fault, but you'll get there."

  "I know." Gideon took Cole's hand in his. "It will be easier if you're around."

  "I'm…" Cole swallowed hard. "I'm not going anywhere in the near future."

  "Until the next dig," Gideon replied with a smile.

  "It will probably be late spring or this summer. So, I'm at your disposal while you're in town."

  "And available for dinner tonight?"

  Cole grinned. "If you don't mind that—as always with me—it won't be until after the gallery closes."

  "I can deal." Gideon squeezed Cole's hand then stood. "I'd better see if there's a room available at the ART. I've become sort of addicted to the place."

  "How long can you stay?" Cole wished it could be forever, but he knew that was not an option.

  "At least a week, much to Alex's dismay."

  Cole froze, then relaxed. Given all I know about him now, I don't think there's any reason to be jealous. "Who is Alex?" he asked calmly.

  "My poor assistant, who puts up with me in spite of everything I put him through."

  "I'm sure that's not as much of a hardship as you're making it sound."

  Gideon snorted. "Ask him. He's probably got a list a mile long of how I've made his life a living hell at times."

  "Maybe I will," Cole replied with a grin.

  Laughing as he started to the door, Gideon said, "I'll be back at nine."

  "I'll be here."

  *****

  "We are going Dutch," Cole said firmly after looking at the prices on the menu.

  They were at FIRE—the restaurant in Gideon's hotel—since it stayed open until eleven. While neither of them was dressed to the nines, unlike some of the other customers, this was Denver. Not many restaurants required the full regalia.

  "I asked you to dinner. I pay," Gideon replied just as firmly. "I can put it down as a business expense." He grimaced when he apparently realized how that must sound.

  Cole chuckled. "Not quite a romantic statement."

  "Not really. I'm sorry. I'm out of practice."

  "We both are, so you're forgiven." Cole perused the menu again. "You probably know better than I what's good."

  "I haven't had anything that wasn't, but I'd recommend any of the fish entrees, especially the scallops, and the curried carrot soup is fantastic. If you want, we can share the cheese and charcuterie board for starters."

  "That sounds good to me."

  "The scallops?"

  "All of it," Cole replied with a grin.

  "Deal." When the waiter came over, Gideon ordered the king salmon Newburg with a Caesar salad for himself, Cole's scallops and soup, and the cheese board. "Do you want wine?" he asked Cole. "They have a very nice Chardonnay." When Cole nodded, Gideon ordered a bottle.

  The waiter returned with their wine, pouring some for Gideon to taste. Gideon approved it, the waiter filled both glasses, left the bottle on the table, then disappeared.

  "To a new life," Gideon said, lifting his glass.

  No matter how Gideon meant that, Cole agreed. They tapped glasses and drank. "Not bad," Cole commented, putting his glass down.

  "Not at all," Gideon agreed. After a long pause, he said, "Now what do we talk about? I think the subject of the lootings and Brooks is hardly relevant anymore. So, tell me about yourself. Do you have any family?"

  "Nope. Like Athena, I sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus."

  Gideon laughed. "Trust an archaeologist to come up with a classical reference. Seriously, though."

  "My parents are still alive. Dad retired a year ago, so they pulled up roots, bought an RV, and are traveling the country. I have a sister, five years older than me. She's finally happily married, on the third try. One son from her first marriage. He's in college at the moment, studying, umm, business management?"

  "You're asking or telling?" Gideon said, looking amused.

  "I'm pretty sure that's what it is. Naomi and I stay in contact only on and off, mainly through Facebook."

  "That's becoming all too common these days, I'm afraid," Gideon commented.

  "What about you?" Cole asked.

  "I'm an only child, estranged from my parents when Robin and I moved in together. Not that they had much of a problem with my being gay. They just didn't want me to flaunt it, and when I did—in their estimation—they cut all ties with me."

  "Damn. If they hadn't, you would have had someone to help you get past what happened."

  Gideon shook his head. "More than likely, they would have said it served me right."

  "Remind me not to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner."

  Arching an eyebrow, Gideon replied, "You're planning that far ahead?"

  Am I? I think so. Not that I've got a reason to, so far. "That's just me. I try to look to the future, since much of my life is spent dealing with the past."

  "I like that idea." Gideon raised his glass to Cole, took a sip, then set it down when the waiter appeared wit
h the cheese board. As they tried the different items, Gideon asked, "How did you get into archaeology in the first place?"

  "I liked digging holes in the backyard, looking for whatever I could find," Gideon replied straight-faced.

  "Uh-huh. Wouldn't that usually be bugs, meaning you should have become an entomologist?"

  Cole laughed. "Probably. Actually, studying ancient man in terms of artifacts was my passion from the day I discovered books about them at the library. From there, it was a given that I'd make it my life's work."

  They continued eating, first the appetizers then dinner, while talking about things that interested them or at times annoyed them. They discovered they had a great deal in common, more than Cole would have thought up until this evening.

  With dinner over, and opting not to have dessert, they decided it was time to call it a night.

  "This was very enjoyable," Gideon said as they left the restaurant.

  "Then we should do it again," Cole replied.

  "Believe me, we will."

  Chapter Ten

  And they did—eating dinner together every night for the next week as they got to know each other better. Neither man was demonstrative, so their physical contacts consisted of brief touches of hands, or an arm around the shoulders when they walked to and from a pub or bar that served late-night food.

  Then it was Thursday, and Gideon had to return home. Although he'd spent each day—while Cole was at the gallery—dealing with business concerns via phone, email, or online conferences, it didn't take the place of his being back in New York, doing things hands-on.

  Cole took off from work that afternoon, leaving the gallery in the able hands of James and the second clerk, Bertram. Bert was older and retired. He was also quite knowledgeable about Native American art and artifacts, thus willing to step in whenever Cole needed him to work.