Chapter Forty-Five

Graves

“And what’s the story on it?” Mallory asks the clerk at the jewelry counter. This is the third time she’s asked this question, wanting to know every morbid detail on the objects that catch her eye. I have to admit… I’m not really listening to anything he says since it all could be a load of bullshit. But, watching her eyes light up with untapped interest is worth the boring droning on of the crypt keeper.

Mallory’s eyes just about pop out of her head when the salesman tells her the price of the antique ring with the black stone, and I watch her entire being deflate.

“Okay, thanks, but I’ll pass,” she says, smiling sweetly at the man who seems annoyed that he didn’t make a sale.

She starts to move toward the furniture section at the back of the store, probably hoping to find a chair for her reading room. There’s approximately fifty of them, but she makes a bee-line for the black one. She spins and sinks back into it. I pull the matching footstool up in front of her.

“I love it.” I knew she would. “Do you think it will look good in the book room?” she inquires.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, it’s not really big enough for two.” She gives me a puzzled look. “Up,” I extend my hand and she slips her delicate one into mine. I pull her up and then move behind her to sit, tugging her down into my lap.

“Nox,” she exhales my name in a whoosh of breath as her back collides with my chest. “You have to be careful with this old furniture, it could collapse from any sudden movements.”

“If it can’t handle our movements, it’s not worth buying.”

“What?” She snickers and I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Oh, HA!” she belts out. “You’d have to actually fuck me then,” she mumbles under her breath. Someone’s sexually frustrated and it’s hilarious.

“Aww, baby. Are you frustrated?”

Her eyes meet mine. I’m sure if she could burn me alive right now, I’d be a pile of ash. She huffs and rises from my lap, the coldness of her absence seeps in and I hate it. A sound of annoyance leaves her as she looks at the price tag. There’s a green neon ‘HOLD’ sticker across it and my insides twist.

“Let’s go, I’ve had enough shopping for today and I’m getting hungry. I want some fucking fries,” she grumbles and turns her body towards the exit.

“Don’t you want the chair?”

“I can’t get it, someone else put it on hold.” She points to the tag and I rip it right off. Shock crosses her face, “You can’t do that,” she whisper-shouts.

“Sure I can.” I pass her and walk to the front of the store. Mallory watches me and then rushes to catch up. I pass the tag to the woman behind the till.

“I’m sorry, sir, this item is on hold for another buyer,” she explains.

“Do you have record of who put it on hold?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Was it me?” I pull my wallet from my pants pocket and hand her my ID. It’s overcast today, so thankfully I’m not sweating to death in all this clothing. The lady’s nails clack against the keyboard as Mallory says, “Did you really put the chair on hold?” I nod and she beams.

“The matching couch too,” I reply and her little gasp makes warmth unfurl in my chest.

“How?”

“I called and asked them to put any black furniture on hold for us to look at.” I shrug like it’s nothing, but I can tell this means the world to her.

“Thank you,” her hushed words meet my ears. I pull her closer and slip my arm around her. The lady manning the computer hands me back my ID and asks if we want to see the other piece of the set, it’s in the backroom. We agree in unison and Mallory’s excited energy is infectious, causing foreign emotions to take root within me.

As soon as Mallory sees the couch, she pretends to faint and drapes herself across the cushions. Her comical display has a chuckle pulled from deep within my gut. Mal’s pale skin looks ghostly against the black damask print of the upholstery, and visions of it flushing beneath my rough touch invade my sight. I can tell she’s sold on it for the library.

Leaving Mallory to inspect all the intricately carved ebony wood accents, I turn back to the saleswoman. “Can you get all of this prepped to be loaded into my truck?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Graves," she responds excitedly, pleased she made a sale.

“Thank you.”

I turn to Mallory as my phone starts to ring. My little siren’s beautiful face drops as I risk a look at the screen. ‘Unknown number’ pops up.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to her as I leave the back room.

“Hello?” I answer the call.

“Good afternoon, sir. Do you have a minute to discuss your long distance phone plan?” The cheery voice is pitchy and grates on my nerves.

“No,” I reply flatly. I eye the jewelry sales associate across the store. He must feel my eyes on him and he starts to scan the area. Locking eyes with me, I point to the jewelry counter and he nods.

“Okay, is there another time I could call back and discuss this amazing, one time offer with you?” The shrill voice echoes through my skull as I approach the display case.

“No.” The man already has the ring Mallory was looking at earlier pulled out, along with two other rings I hadn’t noticed before.

“Sir, I don’t think you understand the offer you’re missing out on by not locking in today.”

“I’m not interested. Have a good day,” I reply and hang up the phone before she can drag this on any longer. I feel a twinge of guilt for cutting her off, but I’m not trying to get caught by my little siren, purchasing the ring she was entranced by earlier.

“Hey, sorry about that,” I say to the jewelry clerk.

“Quite alright, sir.”

“What are these two?” I point at the two bands laying on either side of the ring with the black stone.

“As I explained to the lady earlier, this ring…” He holds up the white gold ring with the black stone, which I now realize is more of a smoky colour, “Is part of a wedding set. This one goes in between the other two bands.” He picks up all three rings, stacking them on his finger to show me.

“Wrap it up.”

“Sir?” he questions.

“Quickly please, before my girl comes to see what’s taking me so long.”

“Right away.” He scurries off to do whatever he needs when my phone rings again. I swear, if it’s the same woman from five minutes ago I may lose it. But, it’s not. ‘Captain G’ blinks on my screen as I step outside.

“Graves,” I say curtly into the mouthpiece. I’m overly direct and short worded where my job is concerned. Less ability for miscommunication that way.

“There’s been another murder,” my uncle’s exhausted voice comes through the speaker.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

He clears his throat, “I hate to do this to you Lennox, but I’m going to need you to come back in.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“ETA?” he asks. I’m taking a wild shot in the dark with this one since we’re about two hours from Mallory’s house and I need to unload furniture now. I shouldn’t have done this today but the desire to make up for our time apart was too much to resist.

“Nox?” Mallory’s melodic voice cuts through the silence in the empty lot.

“Yeah, babe?” I call out to her as she crosses the gravel to my side.

“Babe?” my uncle’s voice rings in my ear. “Please don’t call me that.” I laugh, glad to see his sense of humour is still intact with all that’s going on.

“Do you need to go?” she asks, and I’m sure my uncle can hear her on the other side of the call.

“Yeah,” I reply, deflating internally.

“Graves.” My uncle is all business now, using his authoritative captain voice.

“Yes, sir?”

“Get that girl home safe and say a proper good-bye. We will all be unavailable for the foreseeable future.”

“Sir, with the utmost respect, what the fuck does that mean?” I ask. Something isn’t right, I can hear it in the way my uncle is choosing his words carefully because noise carries.

“He’s left us a note.”