They stood in Gretchen’s living room, heat blasting out of a loose overhead vent. Her back rested against Zach’s chest as he looped his arms around her waist.
“What do you think?”
Zach studied the painting hanging over the couch. Fluid strokes captured the afternoon sunshine pouring through a high circular window. A woman sat under its ethereal glow, the sun’s rays brandishing her chocolate hair with strands of gold. Seated on a stool before an easel, her hand was raised with a thin paint brush clutched in her fingers.
It was the sad smile that came to life on the canvas. It toyed with rosy lips. Heartbreaking. Resolved. Every emotion captured perpetually in acrylic colors. On the easel, a sketch of a young girl evolved, the vitality of youth melding into shadow.
Emotions ran the gambit viewing the painting. It was so defined, he could feel the warmth of that high sun. He could hear the soft scratch of brush against canvas. Was she humming? Something in the angle of the throat made him suspect she was humming. A bird chirped just outside the circular gridded window. Or was the bird here, chirping outside Gretchen’s bay window?
Zach’s lips dropped to hair that smelled like coconut and ice. His mouth lingered there as he gathered himself.
“It is the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen.”
Gretchen batted the hand stretched across her abdomen. “You have traveled the world and seen every form of art—originals from the masters. You don’t have to boost my ego, Professor. I am taking you to my bed regardless.”
Zach brushed her hair back and kissed the side of her neck. “That’s good to know, but Gretch—” So moved by the painting, he untangled himself from her and walked up to it, the colors coming to life. From this angle he was Gretchen, sitting on the little rocker, looking up at her mother capturing a memory.
He turned away from it and held his arms open. Gretchen was there, pressed against him, hugging him as if he might slip away. Hugging him like she was a warrior’s shield. Hugging him like she was in love with him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Gretchen.”
Bright eyes looked up at him. “I have nothing to offer you. I am an art student in between jobs. Maybe in six months I’ll have a new job. A better job. A promising career. But right now I live in a condo where the heater sounds like a Slinky and the refrigerator is stocked with yogurt and macaroni and cheese.”
“Ah, Gretch—” he stroked her hair. “I’m no great catch. I almost got you killed.”
“Well, there’s that.” She snorted into his shirt.
“I love you,” he rasped.
The words were so raw he had to stop a moment to look into those shimmering pools of mystery and enlightenment. A million journeys around the world would never yield the treasure he unlocked in her eyes.
Her smile was slow to form, like a flower rising towards the light. It was a haunting semblance of the painting, but instead of sorrow, it brought joy. It painted a future—a very happy future.
“I love you too.”
Zach kissed her, and would have kept on doing so, but they had a plane to catch.
“Let’s go do this. I don’t want you to ever worry about looking over your shoulder. I don’t want you to ever be afraid.”
“I’m not.”
“Because you’re a badass.”
“I am a badass—but I’ll be even more of a badass if you teach me some of your moves.”
“Oh, I’ll teach you some moves, alright.”
“Martial arts moves.” She pressed her palms to his chest.
“Okay,” he laughed. “As soon as we get back.”
In order to feel safe going forward, they had to get rid of the Ensom Island coin. Tim agreed with Zach’s plan and offered to meet up with them in New York, but at the last minute a new client called him away, onto a new adventure.
While in Narsarsuaq, Zach had mailed the coin from a tele post center to the only place he knew it would be safe.
“Here it is.”
He stopped at the bottom of the wide stairs leading up to the pillared entrance of the Museum of Historical Art and Antiquities.
“I know the curator here,” he said. “Actually, I know both curators, and I trust them with my life.”
Gretchen looked up at the building with the refreshing enthusiasm of a child on a school trip. In a museum, everything looked larger than life. Here, lifetime moments of awe were rendered.
Her boots clicked on the marble floor of the foyer as they approached a circular lobby desk. The greeter took their names and motioned with her finger, one moment as she placed a phone call.
“Wait here, please,” she said after hanging up.
A huge replica of the Sphinx dominated the vaulted lobby as well as a ring of sarcophagi in glass cases. Gretchen stooped to read each placard.
“Zachary!” A female voice called.
Zach turned to find a graceful woman cross the marble tiles in high heels and a sleek blouse and skirt. It was a far cry from her wardrobe in the jungle. She reached him and gave him a friendly hug, pausing to look at his face. “You look tired.”
“It’s been a long few weeks. Gretchen—” he motioned and put his arm around Gretchen’s waist. “I’d like you to meet Professor Alexandra Langley.”
“Curator,” Alexandra corrected. “If you recall, I left that life behind for something more staid.”
“I can relate to that,” Zach agreed. “Gretchen is my—” future wife, dear God, please “—girlfriend and assistant.”
Alexandra smiled warmly and shook Gretchen’s hand. “You have a fine man on your hands—a very intelligent and self-sufficient man.”
Gretchen looked back and forth between them and muttered, “I think so too.”
Zach splayed his fingers on her hip and gave her a confident smile. Alexandra could be intimidating, and he didn’t want Gretchen daunted. Then again, nothing daunted Gretch.
“You just missed Mitch and Chuck,” Alexandra said, motioning them towards the elevators. “Mitch is my husband,” she explained to Gretchen, which seemed to ease some of the tension around her eyes. “And Chuck—Chuck is my co-curator, whenever he can stay in town.”
“Yeah, like Tim.” Zach snorted.
“How is Timothy?” Alex asked once they were in the brass interior of the elevator.
“Restless. A free soul.”
“Yes.” Alex smiled. “You were always the practical one.”
“Great. Don’t give Gretch a negative opinion of me.”
“I like practical,” Gretchen murmured. “But Zach has flare.”
Alex nodded slowly, her smile growing. “Good analysis. You fit well with our Zachary.”
The elevator dinged and they emerged into a marble hall holding glass covered exhibits of golden artifacts of various origins and ages.
“Here, let’s use this desk.” Alexandra waved over two burly security guards. “Protocol. They must watch the transaction. Guards patrol this floor twenty-four hours a day.”
“Of course.”
Alexandra set the pouch she had been clutching atop a cloth already splayed out for inspection. She pulled plastic gloves out of her skirt pocket and yanked them on before extracting the coin.
“Beautiful,” she marveled, holding it up. “But you say it has no provenance. A one-of-a-kind?”
“Right.”
“All right, then. We’ve already agreed that I’ll leave it at that, and I’ll take whatever you’d like to see written on the museum label.”
Zach reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Alex unfolded it and read aloud. “A silver coin struck in Italy circa 1450 with the obverse side bearing the symbol of a raven that might indicate a possible Viking penny. Apparently unique. Engraver anonymous.”
She nodded. “Very good. Numismatics hedge away from words like, one-of-a-kind when there is no provenance. This will be perfect, and a lovely addition to our collection here. And—” she paused, leaning over the table to whisper, “—safe.”
“We didn’t get to talk in great detail—” she continued.
Because I don’t trust phones.
“So both of you need to join me and Mitch for dinner before you leave town.”
“We’ll be here two more days. But we both have to get back to Summerville.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow morning. In the meantime, enjoy the museum. Here’s a badge that will get you in to any exhibit you want. Any exhibit.” She arched a golden eyebrow.
“Great. Thanks, Alex.”
“Thank you,” Gretchen added. “And it was nice to meet you.”
Zach took Gretchen’s hand and started to walk towards the elevator. He hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. Alexandra was crating up the coin in a padlocked box until it made its way to a display case.
That was it.
The coin was gone.
It was safe.
It was anonymous.
And now—so were they.
“She seemed nice,” Gretchen remarked as the elevator doors slid shut.
Zach read her curiosity.
“Alex—nice? Ummm. She’s a pit bull. A nice pit bull, but a pit bull nonetheless. Alex was there when I was shot. She nearly ripped the head off the guy who did it.” He shrugged. “She’s kind of like a mom to me.”
“That’s one hot mom,” she mumbled, her head tucked down.
“Tim and I were students of hers. Things went to hell in the jungle. We got out alive, but she was shot as well. Pretty bad.”
“Oh?” Gretchen’s eyes widened.
“So you see—” he watched the numbers decrease on the monitor. “Being around me probably isn’t in your best interest.”
“Too late, Professor.” She peered sideways at him. “Besides, I have some martial arts classes in my future. If I’m going to teach at the college level, I hear it’s a pretty dangerous field.”
Zach looped his arm across her shoulder and dipped his head for a quick hard kiss. The elevator doors slid open while he was still kissing her. A group of students giggled as they emerged.
“So, Miss Rice. You are in New York City. What do you want to do for the next two days?”
“Besides stay in our hotel room and teach each other several key moves?”
Zach cleared his throat and moved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That sounds damn tempting, but we’ll be doing that as soon as we get home too.”
Gretchen beamed.
“Well then—I’m in the Museum of Historical Art and Antiquities. Art! I want to stalk every inch of this place. I can’t believe you know the curators. I can’t believe we have an unlimited pass.”
So enthused, she already snagged his hand and hauled him towards the closest directory mounted on the wall.
“And when we’re done here,” she said, her head tipped back to marvel the gilded panels on the arched ceiling of the central hall. “I want pizza.”
“Pizza.” Zach smiled at her, though she didn’t see it. “I want pizza too.”
Standing before the museum directory, their hands found each other and linked.
He would come back to this museum. Maybe wearing a hat. Different glasses. A high collar. And he would visit the mysterious coin from Ensom Island.
Because it had changed his life.