A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3)

by Folsom, Tina

  “I would,” Kenton said, raising his palms. “But I don’t exactly have them.”

  Hermes shoved him harder up against the bookcase, one arm across Kenton’s chest, moving the dagger to underneath Kenton’s chin with the other. “Did I mention that I’m not a very patient man?”

  Kenton’s eyes motioned to Penny. “Her father took them. Honest!”

  Hermes heard Penny’s intake of breath and gave her a sideways glance. Disappointment spread in her face like wildfire, and his heart broke for her. He tore his gaze away and glared back at Kenton. “I want the whole story, and make it fast.”

  “I’d heard that Bart had a history, you know, of stealing. I figured I could get him to steal them for me, just so that I could take a look, of course,” Kenton added hastily. “So I told him that I’d seen Penny bring the sandals to the lab downstairs. I’d already tried myself to figure out how to get into the lab, but I couldn’t. Besides, I couldn’t get caught. I would lose my job. But Bart, he figured it out.”

  “How?” Penny asked.

  Kenton’s eyes flitted toward her. “He figured that even the lab had to be cleaned sometimes. So he stole the key from the janitor’s closet.”

  “If he jimmied open the lock to the janitor’s closet, why not go straight to the lab and break the lock there too? Why steal the key?” Hermes wondered.

  “You need an access code for the lab in addition to the key, or the alarm will go off. The janitor has the access codes for all labs and special security areas written down,” Kenton explained.

  “And then?” Hermes pressed.

  “Well, I wasn’t here when he broke in. I had to have an alibi, so I was out for dinner with friends. Bart was supposed to meet me later that night, but he didn’t show. I called his cell, but he didn’t answer. He never gave me the sandals.”

  “Double-crossed you, huh?” Hermes shook his head.

  “How could he do that to me?” Penny asked with a flat voice.

  Kenton huffed. “Well, he did it to me! He was supposed to give the sandals to me. I could have worked them into my research paper! And now, what am I gonna do now?” He tossed Penny an exasperated look. “I need tenure.”

  Hermes shook his head. He’d been right: blind ambition was Kenton’s motive. He released his hold on Kenton. “Guess Bart figured he could make more money selling the sandals than whatever you paid him.”

  He glanced at Penny who’d hung her head in defeat. But he wouldn’t let her cry, not in front of Kenton. Turning back to the pretty-boy professor, he narrowed his eyes once more, underscoring his threat with his gesture.

  “One word of this to anybody, and you can kiss your career goodbye. Do we understand each other?”

  “Without tenure, I’m going to lose my job anyway.”

  Hermes looked at him, puzzled. Clearly Kenton was the overly dramatic kind. “One word about the sandals,” he repeated, “and I’ll—”

  “You have my word,” Kenton interrupted and let himself fall into his chair.

  25

  Penny rubbed the uncomfortable feeling off her arms as she walked into her father’s room, Hermes on her heels. During the entire drive back from the university, she’d barely spoken and Hermes hadn’t pressed her. She was still trying to come to grips with the news that she’d been dealt. Like father, like daughter. Birds of a feather.

  “I don’t know why I’m surprised. I knew he hadn’t changed. He’s still the same crook he always was.” Yet, how ironic it all was. Her father had stolen the sandal that she’d stolen first. What were they now? Competing thieves? “Why did I not see this?”

  When Hermes put his hand on her arm, she looked up, startled.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re not responsible for your father’s deeds.”

  “No, but I’m going to make sure they won’t go unpunished,” she answered and sighed, realizing what she sounded like. “Listen to me, I’m a hypocrite. There I’m ranting about my father, because he’s a thief! And what about myself? I’m not any better. I’m just like him after all.”

  Hermes’ hands cupped her shoulders, shaking her for a short moment. “Don’t say that! You’re not like him. You’re not like him at all. Your motives were . . . different.”

  “Hah!” she said. “Different? Who cares about motives in the end? A theft is a theft.”

  “I do,” Hermes claimed and leaned closer, his head dipping toward her. His eyes seemed to want to penetrate her, and she quickly looked away.

  “We’d better search his room before he comes back.” She hesitated. “If he comes back.” Now that he had the sandal and could sell it to the highest bidder, he didn’t need her and Grams any longer. He would disappear from their lives again just as quickly as he had appeared. She had little hope that the sandal was anywhere in the house. Most likely, her father was hocking it somewhere right at this moment.

  Hermes dropped the hold on her shoulders and looked around the room. “Well, let’s see.”

  Her father had only moved in a few days earlier and he’d already managed to make the room look like he’d been living there all his life. Knick-knacks lined the dresser. Photos of her and Grams stood on the nightstand. She picked up one she’d never seen before of herself as a child together with her father. It looked like they were at a county fair, and she was holding a large stuffed animal and wore a huge smile on her face. A moment of sadness hit her. Sadness for what could have been. And for what would never be.

  “Find anything?” Hermes asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  She put the picture back and quickly went through the drawers of the dresser as Hermes finished up in the closet.

  “It’s not here,” he said.

  “Wait.” She hurried over to the drawer of the nightstand, hoping it was there. It wasn’t. She dropped to her knees and looked under the bed.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Apart from some dust bunnies, there was nothing under the bed. She lifted herself up, accepting Hermes’ hand to help her.

  “I don’t get it. Why did he leave all his stuff if he’s not coming back?”

  “Who says he’s not coming back?” Hermes asked.

  “Why would he if he’s got the sandal? He’ll sell it and run. I know him.” She glanced around the room. “Odd,” she suddenly said, her eyes searching the room again. “Did you see his duffle bag?”

  Hermes shook his head. “I didn’t find a duffle bag.”

  “All his clothes are here, so why is his duffle bag gone?” she wondered.

  “Maybe he put it somewhere else in the house?” Hermes asked.

  Penny turned to the door, her mind suddenly spinning. “Oh that bastard!” She ran out of the room.

  “What?” Hermes called after her, following closely.

  “He must have figured that I would search his room if I suspected him of any wrongdoing.” She walked into Grams’ room. It was empty as she expected, because Rose had taken her grandmother to her scheduled therapy session. “He’s using my grandmother to hide his loot!”

  As she looked underneath the bed, then opened the drawers to her grandmother’s dresser, Hermes opened the closet and rummaged through it. “Your grandmother sure has a lot of clothes.”

  Penny smiled wistfully. “She was quite a beauty in her day. And she loved being dressed well and going out. She’d even dress up for a walk in the park. You don’t see that kind of elegance today. It was a different era.”

  “It must be hard for her to be confined to the house so much,” Hermes said.

  Penny turned to him and smiled at his thoughtful comment. Why had she ever stolen from him? If she hadn’t, then maybe they would have a chance at a relationship. But as it was, she’d destroyed that chance in its infancy.

  Of course, there was still the question of Hermes’ sanity. While in the last few hours he hadn’t made any more comments about him and his friends being gods, she hadn
’t forgotten his ludicrous claim.

  “Well, well, well,” Hermes said suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts.

  She watched him drag a duffle bag from the top shelf of the closet and drop it on the floor.

  “Is that your father’s duffle bag?”

  “Well, it for sure isn’t something my grandmother would want to travel with,” she answered drily and held her breath as Hermes opened it up and emptied it.

  All air left her lungs in a whoosh. The duffle bag contained no sandal, but in its stead, rolls of cash tumbled onto the carpet.

  “Any idea where this came from?” he asked.

  “None. But I’m guessing it’s not from a legitimate source or he wouldn’t be keeping it hidden. And he didn’t have it when he moved in here, because he was flat broke when he arrived.”

  Hermes examined the cash. “Must be a few thousand dollars here.” Then he picked up a piece of paper.

  Penny pointed to it. “What’s that?”

  Hermes smiled unexpectedly. “A receipt from a pawn shop for $3,500. Guess what it was for.”

  Penny’s pulse raced. “A sandal with golden wings?”

  26

  Hermes sat in the passenger seat of Penny’s car, drumming his fingers on his knees as they drove away from the waterfront and into Charleston’s seedier side. Having to rely on human transportation for all his needs was tedious and an exercise in frustration. He was finally beginning to understand why everyone hated the dreaded traffic. At this rate, he would spend half his life just waiting to get somewhere.

  After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled up outside a pawn shop. It looked dark and empty with bars covering the windows. Hermes looked down at the name on the receipt.

  “That’s the place,” he confirmed to Penny.

  “This doesn’t look good,” she muttered.

  No, it didn’t. It looked like a hole in the wall, run down, and unsafe to enter. “Why don’t you wait here for a second while I check it out?”

  “And stay in the car on my own?” she asked, glancing down the street, where a few guys who looked like drug dealers loitered. “I’m coming with you. If they want the car, they can have it.”

  Hermes pressed his hand over hers. He preferred having her close and was glad that she wanted to come with him. But he didn’t like it that she was scared. “I’m stronger than those three guys combined.”

  Penny tossed him a doubtful look, and he simply rolled his eyes. “One day soon you’ll believe me. But right now, let’s check out the shop.”

  He exited the car, and Penny did the same, rushing to his side as soon as she’d locked the vehicle. As they walked to the door, Penny pointed to it.

  “It doesn’t look like it’s open.”

  “It’s the middle of the day on a workday. Someone has to be there.” Then his eyes fell onto a sign that hung inside the door. Closed it said. Next to it, a handwritten sign was taped to the glass, reading Closed due to family emergency.

  “I think the bird has flown the coop,” Hermes commented.

  “Damn,” she cursed. “That’s a bust. Let’s get out of here then while we still have a car.” She looked over her shoulder.

  “We’ve gotta search the place,” he insisted and grabbed hold of the knob, blocking Penny’s view with his body. “Watch that nobody’s coming.”

  She turned back to him. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing? I’m breaking in. Now turn the other way and watch that nobody’s approaching,” he instructed, not really concerned about whether anybody in this neighborhood saw what he was doing. However, he didn’t want Penny to notice how he was opening the lock: not by picking it like a thief, but by concentrating his mind on the tumblers moving inside the lock’s mechanism. Sure, he could use this little demonstration of his godly powers to make her believe his earlier claims, but what would be the point right now? This wasn’t the time or place for a lengthy explanation that he surely would have to produce. Besides, she would believe the truth soon enough—as soon as he had his damn sandals back. Now, that would be the proper demonstration of his godly powers!

  Within seconds, the tumblers clicked into place. Hermes turned the knob and pushed the door open. Taking Penny’s hand in his, he pulled her inside the dark and musty-smelling interior and eased the door shut behind them, flipping the deadbolt.

  Hermes glanced around, orienting himself. The pawn shop reminded him of an old five-and-dime store from the Fifties. It carried an eclectic mix of weapons, jewelry, watches and clocks, art, and knick-knacks.

  “How are we going to find anything in here?” Penny lamented. “The place is packed to the rafters.”

  “By not disturbing the dust.”

  At his words, Penny turned to him, her forehead crinkling in confusion. “What?”

  He pointed to a case that was covered in dust. “Nobody’s touched that piece of furniture in weeks. Ergo, he couldn’t have put the sandal in there. Only check the cabinets that are wiped clean or where the dust looks like it’s been disturbed in the last few days.”

  She gave him an admiring look. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

  Since he wasn’t only the messenger god, but also the patron of thieves, certain things came with the territory. “If you’re implying that my sandals, uh, . . . went missing before, then no. But I’m used to looking for things that have disappeared.”

  “You mean in your messenger business?” Penny asked, arching her eyebrows.

  Hermes turned away from her and looked through the display cabinet, not really expecting his sandal to be displayed openly, then moved on to the cabinet below it. “Something like that.” He rummaged through the items inside, not seeing any sign of his sandal, then moved systematically on to the next cabinet, searching it.

  “What is it you actually do in that messenger business?”

  He shrugged and rose, moving to a chest of drawers, opening one drawer at a time. But just like all the other cabinets before, this piece of furniture didn’t hide his sandal either. “I deliver stuff.” Like he’d delivered the contract to Hades, not that his uncle had appreciated the delivery in the least. On the contrary, he’d been ready to kill the messenger. Well, somebody else could play Zeus’s errand boy now. He was done with it.

  “Like what?”

  He turned to her, tilting his head to the side. “What are we playing here? Twenty questions?”

  When she pretended to show interest in the display case she was currently searching, he continued, “What is it you really want to know, Penny? Why don’t you come out with it?”

  She lifted her head and looked at him, biting her lower lip, and damn if that simple action didn’t make him want to press her against the nearest flat surface and kiss her senseless.

  “I mean, I was just wondering,” she started tentatively. “You know, the winged sandals; that ludicrous excuse that you’re a god—as if anybody in their right mind would believe such a thing—and you saying you’re in the messenger business. Then on top of it, you break in here like it’s something you do every day.” He noticed her hands shaking slightly; nevertheless, she continued, “I’m just saying, I can put two and two together. Listen, if this is something to do with drugs, I don’t want to know about it. Just please keep me out of it. Once we’ve found your sandal, I’ll just pretend I don’t know you, and I swear I won’t tell anybody. You have my word.”

  His pretty thief thought he was a drug dealer? The thought was almost comical. He shook his head, chuckling. “So I have your word, huh? Well, the problem is that you know too much already.”

  Her breath hitched.

  “But I’m not a violent person. However, I might just need you to show me that you mean what you’re saying and can really keep a secret.”

  She nodded quickly.

  He walked toward her, crossing the distance between them with three large strides, stopping right in front of her, his head only inches from hers. “See, Penny, I have to
be able to trust you, and you’ve done something to make it very hard for me to trust you. But if you could appease my anger a little, maybe then we can work things out.”

  She uttered only one word, her breath ghosting against his face. “How?”

  Hermes lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then trailed them down her neck. “I’m starved.”

  “You want to go e-eat something?” she stuttered, then swallowed visibly.

  He gave a brief shake of his head. “We both know I’m not talking about food.” He brought his lips to hover over her mouth. “I want you to kiss me the way you kissed me the night we made love. I want to know if I was wrong to trust you back then.”

  Her eyes closed. “Hermes, please. It won’t change anything. I’m still the person who stole your sandals.”

  She was right, of course, but at present, being so close to her, he couldn’t think. No, he didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel. Her. “Then kiss me and make me forget about that.”

  “But we have to search this place before the owner comes back,” she protested, though her voice didn’t hold much fire.

  Hermes motioned to the room behind him. “It’s not here. We’ve searched virtually every drawer, every display case, and every box. I have the nasty suspicion that the owner of this pawn shop left with my sandal and is trying to hock it somewhere for a much higher price than he could ever hope to get selling it in this dump.”

  “Well, then we should try and find him before he sells it,” she suggested.

  “We should.” But he didn’t move. “Just as soon as we’ve settled this between us.”

  “Settled what?” Her eyes opened wide, locking with his gaze.

  “The issue of you not wanting to kiss me. You know what that tells me?”

  “What?”

  “It tells me that you only slept with me because you wanted my sandals all along.”

  “That’s not true!” she piped up, thrusting her chin up and planting her hands at her hips.