Lochlan Museum: The Case of the Collectible Killer

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  “No, don’t do that,” she replied swiftly, catching his wrist the better to stop him, in case he decided to try. “We don’t want our fingerprints on this.”

  “We don’t want to destroy fingerprints that are already there, either,” he agreed, handing her the container in which the putty and vial rested, in order to quell her anxiety. She seemed certain he was about to grab it and rip the sticker off.

  “If it wouldn’t destroy the fingerprints, we could use un-du. That’s an adhesive remover. That, and a set of tweezers…”

  Alec laughed a little. He couldn’t tell if she was serious, or joking.

  “As interesting as it would be to try that… we know it’s evidence, and so does the FBI. We can’t tamper with it. We can, however, pick up lunch, then do some internet searching.”

  “Alright, fine, I know you’re right,” she conceded with a sigh. “Good call, Ned.”

  “Thank you, Nancy,” he smiled.

  A half hour later, they sat at Claire’s kitchen table. Takeout containers were arranged within easy reach, and her laptop sat in front of them. While they ate, they input Variant Research Laboratories in the search field, then worked their way through the results.

  “They’ve got some talented scientists,” she commented. “Or researchers.”

  “Whatever they are, as long as this is correct, they’re making amazing advancements in the treatment of Alzheimer’s, epilepsy, and in reversing the effects of brain injury,” he commented. “The prosthetic devices are cool too, but… that’s not what’s in the vial Allen Parker stole, and intended to sell to a competing company, or country.”

  “I hope the FBI catches him,” Claire scowled. “Can you imagine? These people put in the intelligence, time, and resources, and then… some other company comes along, and profits instead.”

  “That company gets the financial profit, and the credit,” Alec agreed. “Those who did the actual research end up with nothing. Imagine what they might accomplish if their brilliance was rewarded. They’d have plenty of investors lining up for their next project. Instead… investors line up to fund the company with no moral standards, and no talent worth having.”

  “Ug! It makes me so mad!” she declared. “I’m glad he didn’t get away with it this time.”

  “We can’t do anything about the rest, but you’ve made sure the competing company and their second-hand savages won’t get their hands on what’s in the vial,” Alec pointed out.

  “And that, is a good feeling. I don’t see anything notable, in a notorious way, about Variant itself. Do you?”

  “No. By all appearances, they seem well-intentioned and reputable. So moving right along…”

  Claire entered Intersect in the search field. As the screen loaded, they both leaned a little closer. Their eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “I was expecting their website to be the first link,” Claire commented.

  “Yeah… not all these news articles,” Alec replied, studying the results in fascination. Claire picked one, and clicked on it.

  “Variant is a health and human services federal government contractor,” she mused, as her eyes skimmed the screen. “And Intersect is a government defense contractor.”

  “They’re connected though,” he considered. “Variant is a division of Intersect. How does that work, exactly?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied slowly, as she read.

  “I wonder how many types of government contracts there are.”

  “I have no idea. Defense sounds awfully serious, though.”

  “The Department of Defense thinks so,” he commented. “The entire security department at Intersect is under investigation.”

  “Intersect’s CEO thinks so, too. He replaced them all, after the Division Director stepped down,” she pointed out.

  “Right, after his son repeatedly exposed classified files, and set up three other Intersect employees to take the blame,” Alec summarized. “One of the guys was under investigation by the DOD. He figured out what was going on, and went to security. That was the thanks he got.”

  “This other guy’s family was threatened after he found out, so he took them and disappeared. He knew what would happen if he went to security,” Claire scowled.

  “Exactly. And this guy, he was killed by whoever was behind the whole thing,” Alec pointed out.

  “Could that have anything to do with this?” she wondered. “Variant is a division of Intersect…”

  “I have no idea, but it makes me even more certain that going directly to Variant with that vial would be a mistake,” Alec replied. “Allen may have been working with someone. We know he was working for someone.”

  “Right, someone who can afford vandals and thieves to destroy second-hand merchandise, and slip in and out of homes undetected.”

  “I’m guessing the guy who tried to break into the museum last night, couldn’t get past the security system. So he intended to smash and grab?”

  “He obviously has no idea how stuffed the sorting room is,” Claire replied. “He never will, because Mr. Lochlan now has security officers patrolling after-hours.”

  “What they’re looking for isn’t there, anyway. But you are. Be careful, Claire,” Alec said with concern. “You could be seen as the weak link.”

  A trickle of fear chilled her momentarily, but she brushed it off.

  “I don’t work alone anymore, remember? I don’t open the door for just anyone. I never stay after dark. You drop me off, and pick me up. So I am careful. We both are.”

  “Alright… then I’ll try not to worry,” he said.

  “Good,” she smiled. “Because there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Chapter 18

  “It’s almost time for lunch,” Claire noticed, glancing at the clock on the sorting room’s wall. Mark glanced at it too, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “That was quick.”

  “In a way. We got a lot done,” she said approvingly, looking from one side of Mr. Edwards’ estate to the other.

  “We did,” he acknowledged, brushing his fingers through his light brown hair, as he surveyed their progress. “His collection is unbelievable. I haven’t seen anything authentic… but the reproductions are amazing. Mr. Lochlan should consider displaying some of them. I’m certain I’ve seen that done.”

  “We’ll suggest it,” Claire replied. “It’s hard to imagine ever getting hold of a real live sarcophagus, anyway.”

  “One can only hope,” Mark said wryly, and Claire laughed.

  “No kidding! I’ll bet you love the Mummy movies. And Indiana Jones.”

  “Kind of,” he smiled.

  There was a knock at the brand-new door, and Claire glanced at the video monitor. With a swipe of her ID, she opened it.

  “Right on time,” she greeted Alec.

  “Of course,” he smiled, returning her hug. “Hi, Mark. How are you?”

  “Good. How are you?” Mark replied.

  “Great,” Alec replied, as he followed Claire toward the breakroom.

  Mark frowned slightly as he looked from them, to his own hands. He grimaced.

  “I don’t guess Mr. Edwards cleaned his estate before donating it.”

  Claire looked at her palms. Alec did too, then saw the handprints on his shoulders. He craned his neck, trying to get a look at the back of his white t-shirt.

  “Aw, Claire! What did you do to me?” he teased, as she stopped herself just short of clapping her hands over her mouth.

  “Oh my goodness, I had no idea!” she exclaimed. She took a step toward him, intending to swipe at the handprints she left when she hugged him.

  “Uh, no,” he protested, turning sharply to block her. The back of his shirt was spared, but the front paid the price.

  Claire winced. She might worry, if she didn’t see the laughter in his eyes. His expression, however, was serious, as he examined his once-white shirt.

  “Do you have any idea the kind of teasing I’m in for, once I get back to
the garage?”

  “I can’t imagine why,” she said, giving him a sideways glance as they followed Mark toward the breakroom, and its sink. “You’re the boss. Tell them to quit yapping, and get back to work.”

  Alec laughed.

  “I’ll try that. How was your morning? You got a lot done, it looks like.”

  “We did. You’re wearing the evidence. How about you?” she asked.

  “I finished Mr. Evans’ vehicle, then spent the rest of the morning on yours,” Alec replied.

  “I’ll bet you loved that,” she commented.

  “I did. I brought pictures, if you want to see.”

  “I’d love to. Will I have any idea what I’m looking at?” she wondered. “You said you’re taking it apart.”

  “I’ll interpret,” Alec assured her. They reached the breakroom, and went inside.

  “It’s all yours,” Mark said, reaching for the paper towels as he turned away from the sink.

  “Thanks,” Claire replied, and proceeded to scrub her hands.

  As she retrieved her lunch from the refrigerator and joined Alec and Mark at the breakroom table, Tammy entered. Alec watched her a bit apprehensively, but she was all smiles.

  “And how are you today, Alec?” she asked pleasantly.

  “I’m… doing really well. I take it you know I wasn’t out with a supermodel on Saturday. Or anything remotely like one.”

  “Claire did clear all that up this morning,” Tammy said, waving away the silly notion. Mark raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  “Good. I like Claire,” Alec added. He didn’t think Mark was interested in her, but… it didn’t hurt to state that for the record. “She’s the only one I want to go anywhere with.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Tammy beamed. She poured coffee into her mug.

  “Good for you,” Claire said, trying not to blush. “And I mean that. It’s good for you, that you feel that way. Otherwise, I’d sic Tammy on you again.”

  Alec and Tammy laughed at that. Mark looked curious, but didn’t ask.

  As Tammy left, Gina walked in.

  “Hi, guys!” she smiled.

  “Hi, Gina,” Claire replied. “This is Mark. Mark, Gina.”

  “Hi, Mark,” Gina smiled. “Tammy told me we had a new guy starting here.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he replied, and Gina turned back to Claire.

  “I’ve finally got the girls-only event nailed down. Saturday evening, six to ten. I’ll get you the address.”

  “Great,” Claire said.

  “Alec, Jake is arranging one for the guys at the same time. Mark, you should go,” Gina told him.

  “What is this?” he looked a little concerned.

  “The singles group at church,” Alec explained. “Sometimes they have girls-only events. They usually have an event for the guys at the same time, so we don’t feel left out.”

  “And so you guys have something to do while we’re busy,” Gina informed him. “I’ll have Jake call you, Mark.”

  “Okay…” he looked uncertain. Maybe nervous.

  “Great!” Gina replied, entirely undaunted. She retrieved a Coke from the refrigerator. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  She left the breakroom, and her footsteps faded down the hall.

  “Do you go to church, Mark?” Claire wondered.

  “I have… not in a while,” he said, his expression thoughtful.

  “You’re welcome to join us, if you want,” Alec offered.

  “Okay… thanks. I’ll think about it,” Mark replied.

  Now he appeared lost in thought, so Alec took his phone out of his pocket and showed Claire the pictures of her car.

  “Wow. And you’re going to put it all back together again?” she asked, a faint crease between her eyes. She looked doubtful.

  “Oh ye of little faith!” he reprimanded her. “Of course. It’ll be better than new. How would you like to drive it to your friend’s wedding? Or, I’ll drive. How would you like to ride in it?”

  “That might be fun,” Claire said. She still sounded a little doubtful.

  “It will be. It’ll be awesome. I’ll have you as into classic cars as I am, by the time next month rolls around,” Alec declared.

  “As into them as you are?” she asked, giving him a dubious look. “You’ve got your work cut out for you. I feel like Herschel would, if you told him a month from now, he’d love alfalfa pellets.”

  “Oh, come on. That’s not even close,” he scoffed. “I’ve seen how you love the Blue Lightning. It’s not quite classic, but… it’s getting there. You’re closer than you realize.”

  “Alright, I’ll be open-minded,” she conceded.

  “What is it you do?” Mark wondered.

  “He owns Collins’ Classic Automobile Restoration,” Claire replied.

  “No way,” Mark said, interest lighting his eyes. “That’s very cool.”

  “It is,” Alec smiled.

  “You do the work yourself?” Mark wondered.

  Claire groaned inwardly.

  But, it was nice the guys had that in common. Mark was generally quiet, and didn’t talk a whole lot. He was very polite, and worked hard, but she wondered if he had friends. Probably, but… whether or not he did before, he seemed to have one now. The guys’ conversation was animated. They found their common language, and… it was too bad Claire didn’t speak it, too!

  She did find it was easier to eat when not talking the whole time. That was a plus.

  Before lunch ended, Alec invited Mark to visit the garage, then earned himself points in the future-boyfriend department, and switched back to English.

  After lunch, Alec returned to the garage, and Claire and Mark returned to sorting Mr. Edwards’ estate. The antique store made another pick-up, freeing additional shelves. Juniper Creek Thrift arrived after, freeing several more.

  Claire looked around in satisfaction.

  “Now, the janitor has more than a square inch worth of floor to mop,” she said, and Mark smiled and nodded.

  There was a knock at the door, and Claire checked the monitor.

  “It’s probably a delivery,” she said over her shoulder, and pressed the intercom button. “Hi, are you delivering?”

  “That’s right,” the guy answered. He held a stack of boxes. They looked heavy.

  “Thank you very much. Go ahead and leave them there, and we’ll have them brought in.”

  “Alright…” the guy said, and set them beside the door.

  Claire watched him walk away, then returned to what she was doing.

  “I guess that’s smart, not opening the door to just anyone,” Mark commented.

  “Yeah. Especially after what happened Saturday night,” she replied.

  “What happened?” Mark wondered.

  “You don’t know?” she asked in surprise. “But… you still live in Ashland, don’t you.”

  “Yes…”

  “And I guess you don’t get the Juniper Creek paper, or newsfeed.”

  “No…” he replied, giving her a curious look. “What happened?”

  “Some guy tried to break the door down. It was replaced yesterday afternoon. So was the camera.”

  “Are you kidding?” Mark asked sharply. He looked extremely disturbed.

  “No. I saw him trying to get in. My plan was to pin him to the door with my car, but… he got out of the way, hid in the courtyard, then pulled a gun, jumped over the hood, and ran off.”

  Mark looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or be shocked, so he looked shocked, and sort of laughed.

  “Pin him to the door? With your car?”

  “It’s not like I had time to plan ahead,” Claire replied.

  “Right, because… to pin the guy, you’d have to do serious injury,” he pointed out.

  “I’ll remember that if there’s a next time,” she said.

  “Did the police catch who did it? Or do they know who it was?” he asked with concern.

  “If they d
id or if they do, they have yet to inform me,” Claire answered. She glanced at the wall clock, then checked the monitor again. “It’s almost quitting time, so we better move this in.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Mark replied, as he looked for a place to put the boxes he held.

  Claire opened the door, and gave the donation a critical look. There were several boxes…

  She tested the weight of the first, and frowned slightly. Was there anything in it at all?

  She was struck with a feeling of apprehension and took a quick step backwards toward the door, as Mark stepped out, the door latched behind him, and a huge guy barreled into them both. She hit Mark, he hit the door, and the guy grabbed the lanyard hanging around her neck. He jerked hard, pulling her away from the door, away from Mark, and completely off balance. She fell to her knees, fighting for air and struggling to get her fingers between the lanyard and her throat, as Mark froze, his eyes locked on something in the man’s hand. The look in his eyes told her as much as the click she heard, as the man yanked her to her feet, and pressed the gun barrel into her side.

  Claire gasped for breath, as she watched Mark watch the guy.

  “What do you want,” Mark said evenly. The guy jerked harder on the lanyard, twisting it, and Claire winced. Mark moved forward half a step. “Stop! It’s not going to break, if that’s what you think! Just take it, but let her go!”

  The guy appeared to consider that. He slowly allowed the lanyard to slacken, and Claire gladly rid herself of it. He shoved her toward Mark, Mark caught her by the shoulders, spun her out of the way, and kicked the gun right out of the guy’s hand. It skittered into the parking lot as Claire hit the door. She clutched her throat as she caught her balance, and turned to look.

  Mark kicked the guy again, and again. The guy was forced backward, then he countered. Mark deflected the blow and struck again, and Claire fought to pull air into her lungs as she watched little Mark—because he was, compared to this tank of a guy—force him further away from the door.

  Claire lurched forward and grabbed her ID. She reached for the gun, as Alec’s truck came barreling over the curb, just in time for Mark to kick the guy into the grill. It looked like it really hurt, Claire thought with grim satisfaction. Alec was out of the truck in a flash. He didn’t know martial arts, but he was bigger than Mark, and yikes, he had a wrench. He slammed it against the side of the guy’s head, and the guy went down. He didn’t get back up.