Seattle
January 15
The cab pulled to the curb and stopped. A moment later Shane stepped out and then leaned back in. "Wait here please. I'll only be five minutes at most." The driver nodded.
Shane exhaled slowly as she pulled the ankle length Peacoat tighter around her slender frame. "Oh Oliver," she whispered to the wonderfully warm memory haunting her thoughts. "You have spoiled me, Mr. O'Toole. I need your arms to hold me while I sleep." She thought about sighing again but made a growling sound deep in her throat instead.
The only thing she knew of Seattle was what her eyes told neighborhood was near the bottom of the Queen Anne Hill. She knew nothing of its history other than what was written on the streets and buildings for her to read. Nothing was new but every nook and cranny was filled with character. Some more than others. Caulic Antiquities and Heirlooms on Dundas Street was one of those. Forcefully pulling her thoughts away from Oliver's arms, she looked up at the building jutting into a cloudy sky. The structure was a hybrid of glass and steel combined with the old wooden original and all set on what looked like a very old stone foundation. "Could have been a castle once," she whispered to herself. Shane shook her head. "The two dissimilar styles do not complement each other. But I would wager that someone's ego was flattered."
What had intrigued her most about Caulic Antiquities and Heirlooms when she had done an internet search, was the complete lack of a digital footprint. She had found nothing, not even an address or phone number as if the building in front of her didn't really exist. That had been true for the web that existed in the light of day. She had entertained the idea of delving into the dark web. But. The but was Steve Marek and his band of minions who would recognize her own footprint almost at once. Something that Oliver did not want. And to be honest, neither did she. Hence the cab ride to Dundas Street.
The windowed door fo the building squeaked as it closed behind her, then her footsteps echoed hollowly as she approached what looked like a reception counter. She waited, listening for a sound, any sound that would offer evidence that the shop was inhabited. There was nothing. "Hello?" she tried, and listened to the word echo back to her from the opposite end of the long room.
The display room had a high ceiling and a hardwood floor dappled with dim sunlight spilling through the wide front windows. The space was cluttered with haphazard displays that left some items as shambolic as a flea market. "Or a yard sale," she muttered to herself. To one side were several tables, some hand carved, mixed with settees and couches. Next to those were high-backed chairs and two dozen clocks, some self-standing and some mantle clocks set on stands. The long interior wall was filled with paintings, French, Dutch, a few Masters – mostly minors – all little-known names and nothing collectible that she could see. Along the far wall were rows of sculpture, statues, carvings, bas relief plaques and embossed bronze plates.
Then, "Ah," Shane smiled, seeing a very large bookcase filled with a thousand titles. "I wonder if there is anything there that Oliver might like?" After running her finger across a dozen spines, she turned away. "I could find everyone of those on that book cart that sits outside the Post Office."
"Gottcha," Shane said and pulled her phone from her pocket when she saw the last display. It was partially hidden owing to the fact that it was turned sideways so that it could only be viewed from beside the bookcase. "Did someone do this on purpose?" she asked herself as the number she had dialed started ringing.
"Shane!" Rita's voice giggled out of the phone. Shane laughed at her friend's enthusiasm. "Do you want to talk to Oliver? I can holler and get him over here."
The "Yes!" was right on the tip of her tongue, but she cut it off with a groan. "No," she said. "Just hurry and get here."
Rita laughed. "I hear you. Doctor Dupin arrived in Denver this morning. We are flying out of here in a couple of hours and should see you tonight. Any luck finding the Meerschaum yet?"
"Besides the Bertram Liddy clue? Nothing. At the moment I am following a wishy-washy tip that Josiah came up with. A shop at the bottom of the Queen Anne Hill called Caulic's. Which is why I am calling."
"Wishy-washy?"
"Well, it's sort of like a chocolate covered lemon. Looks good outside but might be bitter inside."
Rita made a coughing sound. "O, out with it?"
"I am looking at a glass display case, locked, and I do mean locked, big locks. Inside are half a dozen Meerschaum pipes. How long does it take to lean how to pick a lock?"
Rita gasped. "If I was beside you I could teach you in half an hour."
"Pssstt." It was a sound of derision. "I don't have half an hour."
"Not to mention the six months for B&E," "Rita chided her.
"B&E?"
"Breaking and entering. I was listening when we went to the Dark Angel yesterday. Meerschaums common to the twentieth century are carved out of briar wood because it is easy to come by. We are looking for one much older than that. The one we want is carved from a silicate and will look, well, like stone."
Shane pulled a penlight from a pocket and aimed it through the glass door of the locked case. "Rats," she sighed. "These are all wood, no silicates here."
"Well, for what Dupin is paying us, it was worth the look."
"Rita? Can you do a favor for me?"
"Sure."
"Call Dale Travers and give her the name Caulic Antiquities and Heirlooms."
"Ok. Why?"
"Estate auctions do not generate the kind of income this place is suggesting. The export of antiquities is heavily controlled these days by almost all countries around the globe."
"You're thinking smuggler aren't you?"
"I am. Perhaps Dale can contact her friends at the FBI and drop a name?"
Rita laughed.
The sound of footsteps approaching spooked Shane and she dropped the penlight back in its pocket. "I gotta go. Company is coming and I don't want to explain anything. Give my husband a hug for me. Bye."
"Bye –," was all she heard as she dropped the phone in after the penlight.
A few seconds later she was slamming the door of the cab shut behind her. "Ooff," she gasped from exertion.
"Where to now?" the cabbie asked.
"Anywhere with coffee."
"Lady, this is Seattle. Everywhere has coffee."
"Just drive," Shane said, looking through the back window of the cab and seeing two very large men come out of the building she had just vacated. Both were staring at her as the cab pulled away. Shane tuned back to the driver. "Say, do they have coffee carts in Seattle?"
The man laughed. "My favorite is just a few blocks this way."
"Onward, and hurry," Shane grinned.
