The Viking Seal

CHAPTER 10 - Loss Of A Bookman

With the sudden departure of the first couple out the back and now the arrival of this woman and the large man he glimpsed over her shoulder, a sense of foreboding seized Wallace; her generous mouth smiled but her eyes bore into his like two ice picks, and he placed a hand on the table to steady himself. "I've just brewed this if you'd like some . . ." He stuttered, rattling a cup off the tray and picking up the teapot.

"I asked, what happened to your guests?" Moira stepped toward the table.

"I uh- I don't know what you—"

"They picked up material that you gathered for them. Don't waste my time, Wally. Where are they?"

"G-gone . . . out the back." He put down the pot and wiped his hands on his cardigan again, watching the woman study him.

"In that case, maybe I should have been the one to get it." Moira leaned on the table and tilted her head. "I'm the one you made the arrangements with." She waited while he processed the lie, smirking as she saw him reach the obvious truth.

"I think perhaps you'd better leave." He cleared his throat, mustering a nervous authority.

Moira laughed and glanced back at Parker who was shaking his head. "You think so, Wally?"

"Ethel!" he croaked loudly. "Please call the sheriff would you." He adjusted his glasses on his slippery nose and tapped his fingers on the table.

"Parker." Moira barked over her shoulder.

"Aw for Chri—"

"Parker!" She snapped louder while at the same time she pulled out her Beretta and held it out, rock steady toward Wallace. The tray and the tea spilled onto the tabletop as Wallace stumbled, grabbing the edge to keep from falling.

"Wha- what the devil do you think you're doing, young lady?"

Moira tilted her head and silently indicated he behave, but Wallace's fear, mixed with a growing indignation continued, and as he stepped toward her the Beretta jerked slightly making a noisy bark, and he flew back, crashing into the bookshelves, a small rosette blossoming on the front of his shirt near his heart. Several old volumes tumbled down on his body, scattering their fragile pages like autumn leaves.

Moira stepped around the table and looked down at Wallace's surprised face, then leaned down to straighten his glasses. The two slapping sounds seemed loud in the empty store, and she pocketed her gun and strode out to where Parker stood, round-shouldered, gazing at the pile that was once Ethel; her little desk a clutter of papers slowly gathering a red stain from the gaping hole in her head. Her small computer screen blinked off and was replaced with the face of a tiny kitten screensaver.

"This wasn't necessary you know." He complained, following her out of the store.

"But it felt good, Parker." She flipped open her cell phone and rang Kenny.

Stone and Gretta made a dash for the driveway, keeping their heads down, and ran precariously out to the highway, Gretta panting instructions into her phone as she ran.

****

Arnold had wanted to stay fairly close so they took a quick run into South Leadmont, drove around some backstreets and looked at the houses, found nothing that took their fancy then headed back out to the highway and into New Hereford just south of the turn-off and five minutes from the book store. The place they found was worn but clean and the coffee was large and hot, and they settled into a large booth with wooden seats and a plastic tabletop.

"God, this is so fifties!" He exclaimed, patting the arborite and tipping a thumb toward the jukebox on the wall next to the table. "Even the selections are old. Look at this," He flipped the panels over and read off several numbers that he'd only heard played on nostalgia shows.

A tired looking, middle-aged woman shuffled over and took their order, moving away at the same pace, leaving them with the sense of the desolation she lived each day in her chosen employment.

"Not a routine I'd like to be tied to," Melanie observed.

"So what do you really think about all this?" Arny asked tentatively, changing the subject.

"About the Congress?"

"Yeah."

"My answer is going to be biased, Arny. After all, it's the field my father and I make our livings in."

"Yeah, but you don't- you and your dad aren't- aren't like Gretta and Jeb."

"No, but unfortunately the Grettas and Jebs are a necessary part of the archaeological world."

He spun his spoon on the tabletop and sighed, waiting until the woman had delivered their coffees and left. "So you're okay with what they do . . . and how they do it?"

"No. But Jeb rarely gets into that area. I've learned to live with the few times that he's taken contracts that required- uhm- extraordinary measures."

He snorted at the euphemism, then quickly blinked an apology at her reaction. "Sorry. I just don't describe it quite that way. In Gretta's case it's a- a devotion. She loves her work and sometimes the more dangerous the more she enjoys it."

"But you're still together after all this time." She drank nearly all her coffee in one swallow.

He looked up and considered her frank gaze. "Guess I'm just a superhero junkie."

"I think it's more than that." She waved to the waitress for a refill and waited until the girl had come and gone. "I don't know if you know how Jeb and I met, but it was one of those associations where I resented every bone in his body. He was young, cocky and too attractive and I was brittle, bitchy and foolish." She giggled aloud. "We made a perfect couple."

She glanced at Arny and saw his puzzled frown. "What they're doing is right, Arny. None of the world's treasures should be the private property of greedy collectors. Everyone is entitled to share in the wonder and beauty of our past."

He blew out a slow stream of air and showed her a crooked smile. "Majority rules, I guess. I promise I will try and adjust my reservations and not be such a doom and gloomer."

Mel toasted him with her coffee and they shared a laugh, interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. She sat up when she saw Arnold's expression at the information he was hearing on the cell phone. A familiar shiver of dread cruised down her spine. He closed the phone, slid out of the booth, grabbing his jacket and the bill.

"What happened? What is it?" Melanie followed suit, pulling on her vest and jacket as she hurried after him to the cash.

"Trouble," Arnold whispered, dropping some change on the counter and opening the door. They ran across the lot and jumped into the van.

"Tell me, Arny! What's happened?" She snapped her seat belt on and braced one hand on the dash as he heeled the van around on the slippery drive and headed, swerving and swaying onto the highway.

"Watch for them by the drive into the store." He regained control and accelerated up the road. Fortunately the highway was empty and Arny made the trip in a much faster time than recommended.

"I see Gretta and there's Jeb!" She yelled, pointing.

Arny swung the wheel hard and skidded across the highway into the end of the drive, searching the front of the store for trouble. The van swerved around and skidded to a stop beside the couple and they yanked open the door and piled in, tossing the box into the rear and exhorting Arny to make tracks. The van slid around again and darted straight across the road onto the turn-off.

"Get back to the main highway as quick as possible!"

"Gretta?" Arnold's voice held a sharp edge.

"Later, Arny. I'll explain everything. Just hurry."