Chapter 77

"I think you seriously need to consider making a move when you finish your schooling," Remy commented as he followed her directions to the shop. It bothered him that since she'd met him, she'd been both shot at and had her apartment broken into. Clearly this city wasn't a safe place for a young single woman.
Mari shrugged. "I guess I'll go wherever I get the best job offer," she finally said. "I haven't gotten any yet, so it's a moot point. And I'm kind of limited to coastal areas. I can handle freshwater, but I feel better if I can swim in the ocean at least once a month or so."
An idea was beginning to trickle into his mind. "How about an indoor saltwater pool? Would that meet your needs?"
She shook her head, her glossy hair sliding against her fleece jacket. "I don't know. I've never been in one where I was the only person present so I could try to shift."
"Some of the gargoyles in our clan have semi-aquatic forms. We have a big indoor facility for them to work out in. And you wouldn't need to worry about any of them seeing you shift."
She turned in the low bucket seat to face him. "Are you inviting me to Quebec?"
Was he? He thought for a moment, then nodded. "I believe I am. We can always use qualified people, especially at the high school. Since gargoyle adolescents are in their alternate form during daylight hours, everyone who works there has to be either a clan member, or someone close, who we can trust to maintain total secrecy. Since you're a shifter yourself, you'd have some understanding of what our young people go through, and I know you could be trusted. If you'd like, I can speak to the Matriarch on your behalf."
"Yeah."
He looked away to negotiate a turn, but could feel her nod. Her fingers squeezed his thigh.
"I think I'd like that very much."
Remy's cock thought the idea was bloody brilliant. He'd get to continue his affair with her indefinitely - until one of them tired of it. Judging by his body's instant response to even the thought of her, that was going to be a long, long time.
He pulled his car up closer to the strip of shops and peered closely with his enhanced night vision. "Sweetness? I think there may be a problem here."
Mari turned and stared. "That's crime scene tape," she whispered. "That's not at all a good sign, Remy."
"No."
He parked his Porsche a block away. "Wait here," he said to Mari as he unbuckled his belt.
"Uh-uh," she replied. "Together, we're just an ordinary couple holding hands as we walk down the sidewalk. By yourself you'll attract way more attention."
He had to chuckle at her use of the word ordinary, but he didn't object as she climbed out of the car. He met her around the front of the vehicle and pulled her close with an arm around her waist.
At least there were no officers still in sight as they approached the building. They continued on past, but Remy studied it as carefully as he could while they strolled by. The doors had been locked, but not sealed, and no lights were on in the building. From the front, nothing looked damaged.
He guided Mari around the corner, then up the alleyway that ran behind the row of shops. It was an upscale enough area that the alley was cleaner than many, with a large lidded dumpster behind each of the stores. He paused beside the one near the antique shop so he could better study the back entrance to the building.
The crime scene tape was loosely draped across the door. It hadn't been padlocked, though the regular locks were probably in use. The single window pane beside the door had been broken and was sloppily covered with plywood.
"Too many coincidences," he muttered.
Luckily, the plywood was nailed on from the outside.
"Mari? I want you to go down to the end of the alley - see that fire escape? Stand under it and watch. If you see anyone coming this way, run and get me, would you? But be very quiet about it." He started stripping off his jacket and boots.
"What are you doing?"
"I need to go in there, and I need to do it in my gargoyle shape. That way I have the strength to remove that plywood if I can't pick the lock. And if anyone does come in, all they'll see is a life-sized gargoyle statue."
She regarded him with one raised eyebrow. "You sure about this?"
He stripped off his shirt and handed it to her. She folded it and set it atop his boots and jacket while he wiggled out of his jeans, and fished his Swiss Army pocketknife out of the front pocket. "I'm sure. I need to see if the cup is still in there. If it isn't, I'm going to see if I can find a computer record that will tell me who he sold it to."
"Here." She handed him the flash drive off her keychain. "Use this."
"Your papers..."
She shrugged. "Are backed up on the campus server. But if you can manage not to delete them, that would be good too."
He gave her a quick hard kiss, then shifted. Another advantage of his gargoyle form was that he wouldn't leave recognizable fingerprints. Once he'd fully changed, he slipped through the shadows to the door. A quick twist of his hand loosened the bare bulb that shone above it, casting the area even deeper into the gloom. He studied the lock and sighed with relief. Much easier than prying the plywood off the window.
Telltale colored lights through the tiny window in the door showed that whatever alarm system had been in place hadn't been reactivated, so he used one of the blades of his knife to pick the lock. It wasn't one of the standard tools, but one his friend Damien had shown him how to modify a long time ago. With the prophecy hanging over his head, Remy had been schooled in tactics and security with his friends, even though he'd shown nowhere the same degree of aptitude for it as Beau or Damien.
He eased open the door and slipped inside, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the deeper darkness. He looked around carefully before moving further inside. Then he moved past the small office and tiny restroom into the main area of the shop.
The first thing he noticed was that the place hadn't been ransacked like Mari's apartment. There were a few signs of a struggle though - an overturned shelf behind the sales counter and a wide path from the front door where displays had been pushed aside - probably by the police or emergency personnel. Above the smell of dust and age was the distinct tang of blood. Remy used the small penlight on his keychain to look down and saw a big, drying pool on the floor behind the counter. It was more blood than a human could have lost and survived. Damn!
It was beginning to look like he'd walked into the middle of something messy and so had Mari. The only question was whether he'd dragged her into it, or if she'd pulled him with her.
Remy did a quick inventory of the shop. In the locked display cases, he found several valuable and lovely pieces, but no golden aquamarine-studded cup. Merde.
There was no computer on the counter - not even attached to the cash register. That meant either the killer had taken it, or the police had hauled it in as evidence. He made his way to the office in the back. Now here was where the ransacking had occurred. The room was a shambles. There was no computer here either, and he wondered if the thief had found what he was looking for.
Then something about the desk caught his eye. It was an antique, beautifully made, and the splintered drawer was a crime in of itself. But the drawer hanging out didn't look right. It wasn't deep enough to account for the space it occupied.
Remy held the light in his teeth as he worked at the damaged wood with his fingers. There! The false bottom of the drawer slid to the side, revealing a heavy leather-bound ledger book.
Mari had said the shop owner was an elderly man. Did he perhaps distrust modern technology enough to keep his records on paper. Remy flipped through the pages. Surely enough, they held entries of objects, each with an inventory number recorded by date. He flipped to the entries from January, and found it. "Gold chalice with cabochon aquamarines..." It listed Mari's name and the amount he'd paid her for the cup. It also listed a buyer, and the rather staggering amount for which it had been sold.
Remy pulled his cell phone from his pocket and took a photo of the entry. He'd have to track down the buyer, but he'd also have to be careful. It was too big a coincidence that bad things had started happening the day after he'd appeared in town asking questions about antique goblets.