Mel gave a conciliatory nod. “Your father made some amazing discoveries before his condition forced him into retirement.”
“Archeology isn’t genetic,” Julia said, the sting of her father’s recent diagnosis adding a bite to her words.
“No, but you obviously inherited your love of art and antiquities from someone,” Mel said. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the Museum of World History.”
Julia looked at Mel sharply and realized the woman was amused by the museum’s attempted bravado.
“My point is that besides your education, you have a lifetime of exposure to the world of archeology,” Mel said. “Surely, you can understand and appreciate the speculative nature of this endeavor.”
Julia understood all too well. She remembered the years of her father putting together excavation trips, hustling for donations, only to come home empty handed.
“I don’t want to risk the time and expense, not to mention the disruption to my guests, if there is nothing there worth finding.” Mel could see Julia was wavering but wasn’t sure which side the woman would come down on. Making her last pitch, Mel added, “I will pay you for your time, of course, and I would be willing to lend half of any find to the museum. Indefinitely.”
Julia tempered her excitement with a strong dose of her grandmother’s caution. This was how it always started for her father–the promise of a new discovery, a chance to unearth hidden wonders. The high of chasing that dream had led to years of loneliness for Julia. “Can I think about it?”
Mel frowned, and Julia blinked. For a second there were little licks of red flickering in the black of the woman’s pupils.
But that’s impossible, Julia thought.
Mel realized she had either overestimated her own abilities or underestimated Julia’s conservative nature.
“This isn’t a good time for me to be away from the museum,” Julia admitted.
“I can give you twenty-four hours,” Mel said at last. “After that, I’ll have to find someone else. I’m on a schedule and must make a decision regarding the ruins soon.”
Julia nodded and inwardly cringed at the thought of ancient ruins being dug up or plowed under to make way for another swimming pool or golf course.
“My card,” Mel said and handed Julia a small rectangle of expensive card stock.
Julia didn’t recognize the area code.
“I’m afraid I can’t be away from Avernus for long,” Mel said. She still shuddered at the memory of the one and only time she’d broken that rule. “That’s my direct line, either myself or my assistant will answer.”
Julia continued to study the card in her hand as Mel left, her heels tapping out a striking tattoo on the museum’s marble floors.
Mel walked out of the museum and stepped into the waiting car.
“Well?” Suri, Mel’s assistant, didn’t wait for her to close the door before asking, “Is she coming?”
“She needs to think about it,” Mel said and poured herself a scotch. The thirty-year-old single malt was one of the many perks of her position.
“They always need to think about it,” Suri said and waved the matter aside with a flick of her hand.
Mel noticed that her assistant’s fingernails had changed from pink to blue in the time she’d been inside with Julia.
“I was so certain Julia would be different,” Mel said. She didn’t like being wrong, and it wasn’t in her nature to second guess herself. Of course, there were many things that weren’t in her nature.
Suri pondered that a moment. Mel had a talent for knowing how to handle their guests from first contact through their stay on Avernus to the trip home.
Mel forced herself to relax into buttery-soft leather seats as the sleek sedan pulled away from the curb. She barely heard the purr of the powerful engine as the car slid smoothly out into traffic and the Museum of World History faded into the background.
“How long until the plane arrives?” Mel asked.
Avernus was calling to her.
She wanted to get off the mainland, away from the thick swarm of humanity. Mel would never admit it, but the twenty-four-hour rule worked for her, too.
“Tom should be arriving within the hour,” Suri said. The app on her phone indicated their pilot would be landing at the private airfield in fifty-eight minutes, but Mel didn’t require that level of detail.
Suri also had an app that told her the weather in Whistler–she loved the snow–and one for managing recipes. Suri didn’t cook, but she loved looking at pictures of food, and she thought humans were wonderful when it came to their little creations.
“Good, I’ve been away too long.”
Suri checked her alarm–another app–and said, “There’s plenty of time.”
“There’s never enough time,” Mel muttered.
The museum was empty and security was preparing to lock up by the time Julia returned to the sorting room. Ted was gone, and she passed by neat rows of her colleague’s workstations–each one littered with the debris that followed catalogers and restorers alike.
Julia’s desk was much the same way; her current projects scattered across the scared wooden surface. It was only as she tossed Melisandra’s business card on the desk that she saw the box.
Wide as it was tall, the antique wood was polished to a rich shine. The grain appeared unbroken, suggesting the box had been carved from a single piece of wood. However, what caught Riley’s attention, had her reaching out a hand, was the intricate maze carved into the top.
No, not a maze, Julia thought, tracing a single path to the center with shaking fingers, a labyrinth.
And there, at the center of the labyrinth, was the unmistakable symbol of the minotaur. Julia brushed her fingers over the horned bull and heard the click a second before the lock released. Carefully, she let the lid fall back on cleverly disguised hinges and peered inside.
“Oh, my God,” Julia whispered. Tucked inside, nestled in a bed of the softest fabric, was a statue of a man. Eschewing gloves, knowing Robert would scold her for it; Julia reached in and lifted the statue out.
“Hello, Theseus,” Julia greeted.
The marble was cool in her hands and heavier than its size suggested. Carefully, she inspected the statue, turning it this way and that. The piece was dusty and there was dirt caked into the crevices left behind by a master carver. It was clear to her that the piece had been buried for some time, hidden from the elements that would have otherwise worn away the exquisite detail.
Brushing some of the dirt off, uncaring when it fell to her desk, Julia confirmed the statue’s identity. The marble explained the statue’s weight and would shine once it was polished.
A small imperfection at the statue’s base caught Julia’s eye, and she grabbed the magnifying glass off her desk. It wouldn’t take away from the piece’s value, or diminish its beauty but–
Julia’s rolling thoughts stopped, and her heart sped up. “Not a blemish,” she muttered and looked back into the box. “Where’s your friend, Theseus? Where’s Asterion?”
Julia dug around in the box, carefully moving the fabric aside incase she had missed something. If she was correct, this was only half of the whole. Somewhere, there was a second segment that when locked into place would create one, beautiful piece.
However, the only thing the box contained was a plane ticket.
SHAKERS
Julia didn’t want to go home. Pointing her ten-year old Acura toward downtown, she headed for the central district. Fifteen minutes after leaving the museum, she parked behind Shakers and killed the engine.
Glancing at the box sitting in the passenger seat, Julia gripped the steering wheel tighter. For reasons she didn’t care to examine, she hadn’t logged the statue into the museum’s database.
Getting out of her car, she took the box with her as she crossed the parking lot and turned the corner. There wasn’t much going on downtown on Tuesday night and the line to get into Shakers was nonexistent.
Hector saw her coming and opened the door. “Been a while,” he said before the music inside cut across Julia’s ability to hear.
Shakers was more impressive inside than out, but even inspiring decor couldn’t compete with a body’s need to work the next day. The stage was empty, the music under the control of a DJ instead of a band.
Half of the sparse clientele were on the dance floor, bodies moving in time to the heavy beat that poured out from the expensive sound system. The other half was spread out among the bar’s high-backed booths. More than one couple was locked in a passionate embrace, and Julia caught the flash of hands as they disappeared under the table.
Sidestepping empty two-tops, Julia headed for the opposite end of the bar. She caught Jeffery’s eye as she slid onto her stool, and he nodded to let her know he’d seen her.
She waited and watched as her roommate poured drinks, alternating between flirting with and fending off customers. It was a toss up which attracted the most attention, the tattoos or the leather collar he wore around his neck. Both, she knew, were like catnip to the predominantly male clientele.
“I didn’t know you were coming by,” Jeffery said, setting Julia’s embarrassingly girly drink down in front of her.
“Neither did I,” Julia said and took a long sip.
“You just get off work?”
Julia nodded and finished her drink in two sips. “Can I get another one of these?”
“You driving?” Jeffery asked.
“I don’t know, what time are you off?”
“I’m closing.”
Which meant he wouldn’t be done until three or four in the morning, and it was just now ten o’clock.
Julia sighed. “Yeah, I’m driving.”
“Then no,” Jeffery frowned across the bar. “What’s up, Jewels?”
“It’s a long story, and you’re being paged.” Julia pointed to the cute little recreation of a surfer dude at the other end of the bar.
Jeffery turned and frowned. “Christ, doesn’t that kid ever give up?”
“A friend of yours?”
“More like a fanboy,” Jeffery said.
“Bartenders have fanboys?” Julia leaned past Jeffery to get another look. “He looks eighteen.”
“He’s twenty-two,” Jeffery said. “I make Hector check his ID every time, and I’m still not convinced it isn’t fake.” Fanboy was leaning over the bar trying to get Jeffery’s attention. Jeffery let out a pained sigh. “I’ll be right back.”
Julie watched Jeffery approach the kid. There was a short exchange during which Jeffery surreptitiously moved his hand to keep the kid from touching him. The kid’s face showed every emotion, including disappointment as he dropped back on his heels and turned away from the bar.
“I’m too old for this shit,” Jeffery muttered.
“You’re thirty,” Julia reminded him.
“And the only one in here over the age of twenty-five.”
“You could quit, come back to work at the museum,” Julia offered.
Jeffery laughed. “The money is too good here. Besides, Prestwood never liked me.”
“He always thought you were hitting on him,” Julia teased. The curator of the museum was a notorious homophobe.
“I should have,” Jeffery said, his smile fading as Julia grew quiet. “Talk to me, Jewels.”
Julia let out a deep sigh. She was embarrassed to admit what happened with Ted. God, she’d been such an idiot not to see it coming! However, if there was any one person she could talk to, it was Jeffery.
Jeffery started swearing before she finished her story.
“I’m sorry, Jewels,” Jeffery said. “Is there anything I can do? You want, I’ll send Hector over to break both Ted’s legs.”
Julia glanced over to where Hector sat guarding the entrance. The big guy filled the doorway, his shoulders nearly brushing the wood frame.
“I was thinking the pear of anguish,” Julia admitted, naming the ancient torture device. “We have one in the museum.”
“A nice choice,” Jeffery said. He crossed heavily tattooed arms over his chest, stretching his black t-shirt tight and drawing more than a few appreciative glances from along the bar. “Though I know a few guys that would pay for that kind of torture.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Julia was used to Jeffery’s choice of play partners. They’d been living together since college, first in an apartment and then in Julia’s grandmother’s house after Gigi died.
“Seriously, Jewels, what are you going to do?”
“Look inside the box,” Julia instructed.
“You bring me a present?” Jeffery asked. “And it’s not even my birthday.” Flipping back the lid, he let out a low whistle. “Nice.”
“Mm-hm,” Julia agreed. She’d carefully cleaned and polished the statue before leaving the museum.
“Julia,” Jeffery said, suddenly sounding like he was being strangled. “Where did you get this?”
Julia told him about Melisandra Black.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Jeffery hissed. “You can’t seriously be thinking about going?”
Julia bristled at Jeffery’s tone. “Why not?”
“You don’t know anything about this woman, who she is or where she comes from. She could be an art thief, dealing in stolen art for all you know.”
Jeffery’s tone suggested that was the best-case scenario he could think of.
“I’m not a complete idiot,” Julia huffed. “I checked the stolen art registry–nothing like that has been listed.”
“Jesus, Jewels, who gives a fuck about the statue, it’s your safety I’m worried about.”
“You should care; I estimate it’s over four thousand years old.”
Jeffery stuttered to a stop. “And you brought it here?”
“I couldn’t leave it in my car,” Julia said sensibly.
Jeffery scrubbed at his face and ignored the call for another beer.
“Julia—”
Julia cringed; it was never a good sign when Jeffery used her given name.
“You can’t go running off—”
“Why not?” Julia asked, surprised to find that was exactly what she was considering.
“You have responsibilities to the museum,” Jeffery pointed out. “And what about your father? You can’t just leave him.”
“My father is well taken care of,” Julia said, thinking about the sprawling living facility where he lived. “Of course, all of that will change if I can’t afford the cost of his care.”
“If you need money—” Jeffery started to offer.
“Don’t,” Julia said. “I’m not borrowing money from you.”
“Why not? I have more than enough. My landlady is a pushover; she barely charges me any rent. I could certainly afford to lend you what you need.”
Julia smiled at the attempted humor. “I know and I appreciate it, but Sunrise is expensive and the amount of care my father needs continues to go up.” The cost, too. “I can’t come to you every time I need money.”
The assistant curator position came with a nice bump in salary, and the benefits package was better.
“I need that promotion,” Julia said. “And with Melisandra Black’s help, I think I can get it.”
“You could get out there and find nothing, what then?”
“I still have the Theseus statue,” Julia.
“Then isn’t that enough?”
Julia thought about Ted and shook her head. “No, I need something the Board of Directors can’t ignore.”
Julia didn’t wait. Having made the decision, she dug around in her purse for her cellphone. Earlier, she’d looked up the area code that put Avernus Island in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. She had no idea what time it was there, and with Jeffery watching, she entered in the phone number and hit “call.”
Sooner than expected, the phone on the other end was picked up and a surprisingly bubbly voice answered.
“Hello, this is Juli
a Davenport, please tell Ms. Black that I’ll be on the next available plane.”
AVERNUS ISLAND
“Would you care for another mimosa, Ms. Davenport?”
“I don’t think I could respect myself if I said no,” Julia said and held out her silver champagne flute to the flight attendant. The woman had introduced herself as Ellen and was the only other person on the plane besides Julia and the pilot.
The plane ticket that had arrived with the Theseus statue had turned out to be symbolic. Apparently, Avernus was only accessible by private plane. Eighteen hours ago, a town car slid to a smooth stop in front of Julia’s house, the driver collecting her bags and ushering her to a small airfield.
The jet that sat waiting had taken off with an efficiency Julia could get used to. The plane had made one stop to refuel before the pilot turned the lights down, and the flight attendant led Julia to the bedroom.
A bedroom. On an airplane.
Julia slept better than when she was home and woke to the rich smell of dark roast coffee. Padding out to the main cabin on bare feet she found a breakfast of brioche French toast and fresh fruit waiting for her.
“Good morning, Ms. Davenport.” Ellen smiled and handed Julia a warm, wet towel. “The pilot asked me to tell you that we will be making our final approach into Avernus within the hour.”
“Thank you.” Julia dug into her breakfast and couldn’t resist moaning. “This is amazing, did you make this?”
“The plane has a galley,” Ellen explained. “And I like to cook.”
“This plane is nicer than my apartment in college.”
Ellen laughed. “This plane is nicer than the apartment I have now.”
“Do you travel a lot?” Julia asked and scooped up a bite of mixed berries. The strawberries were sweet and ripe and the perfect contrast to the slightly tart blackberries.
“It depends on who we have coming to the island,” Ellen said. “But I probably make the trip back and forth three or four times a week.”
“Good morning, ladies.”
Julia looked up from her breakfast as the pilot’s voice came on over the speakers.
The Ruins (An Avernus Island Tale) Page 2