“I REALLY DON’T SEE WHY YOU ALWAYS CALL US TO be involved in these things,” said Philip from their booth at Taquito Grill. “We have a business to run. Two businesses, with a shop to get rebuilt and decorated, and the idiot contractor never seems to be there.”
“Don’t worry, Philip, it will all work out,” said Rodolfo with a particularly purring voice. “You always worry so much. You’ll lose your hair.”
Philip grabbed at his scalp and relaxed when he felt the reassuring locks. “Bite your tongue.”
Rodolfo slid closer to him. “I’d rather suck on yours.”
“Alright boys, calm down.” Jamie set the fork and napkin in front of him with meticulous grace. “Now then. We are all here as the Scooby Gang to do our duty for Skyler.”
Dave sipped his beer from the bottle. “This really is what you guys do.”
“No, it isn’t,” said Philip. “It’s just something that always seems to happen on the side. As we interrupt our lives to put ourselves into danger.”
“It’s not always that dangerous,” said Skyler. “Besides, last time it was Keith who was in danger. Now he’s safely off doing something else.”
“And he’s the only one who actually knows what he’s doing. How convenient.”
“You know, Philip, you don’t have to come.”
“Yes I do. Rodolfo always wants to do this and I can’t let him do it on his own. I keep remembering that time he was almost killed. I couldn’t stand the fact of leaving him on his own and something happens.”
Rodolfo smiled a full grill of white teeth. “Isn’t he cute?”
“Yes, I’m downright adorable.”
Skyler grabbed a chip and crunched it. “Well, I appreciate you all coming.”
Jamie settled both arms on the table. “So what’s the plan, Skyboy?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. There are so many unanswered questions. Even Sidney is stumped.”
Dave sat back, beer poised near his face. “Then I don’t know what you expect us to do.” He took a swig.
That detective spark ignited in Skyler’s chest and he leaned into the table. “Well…I had this idea…”
Jamie clapped his hands. “I love it when Skyler gets an idea!”
“Since I don’t work at the museum now that school started I can’t keep an eye on the day to day of it. I mean, I still have the cameras, but I can’t check up on it 24/7. So I thought that maybe you guys, in tag-team fashion, could check it out. Get up close and personal.”
“Do you still suspect the nephew?” asked Jamie.
Skyler sighed. “He and his uncle were pretty close. I’m really surprised that Mr. Huxley told the board that Jerome wasn’t his pick. It seemed like a sure thing to me and everyone there. But if he was the one stealing from the museum and Mr. Huxley knew it, then he’d have to stop him somehow.”
“But maybe Mr. Huxley was stopped first,” said Dave.
“Yeah. I hate to think that but…I’ve got nothing else.”
Philip stirred his straw in his drink. “Then what do you want us to do?”
“The docents don’t know you. You could reconnoiter the place, see that things are still in place, report any suspicious behavior.”
“Like, on the hour every hour? For a day? A week? How long can we do this for and to what end?”
“Oh. Well…”
“As usual, you haven’t thought it out.”
“Now wait a sec,” said Dave. “It isn’t a bad plan, overall. But it has to be figured out. Now from what you said, Sky, this Jerome fella stormed out of there when that other guy was named director, right? How do you know if he ever came back?”
“I saw him on the museum cam, see?” He tapped on the app on his phone screen and showed it to them. The screen was divided into the nine camera views. It was night now, so no one was there.
Rodolfo raised his hand like one of Skyler’s students. “If the board thinks he’s stealing, why is he allowed to continue to work there? This I do not understand.”
“Hmm. Good question. Out of respect for Lester?”
“No offense to the dead,” said Philip, “but it’s not as if he’d notice. I don’t think that's the reason.”
Dave tapped his lip with the spout of the beer bottle. “Maybe the board didn’t know about it. Maybe Lester didn’t tell them the details.”
“Denise was pretty insistent that Mr. Huxley recommended against him being director.”
“Maybe you should talk to her again. Get more details. In the meantime, I’m sure between the four of us, we can work out a schedule to spend time in the museum.”
“Do we have to?” sighed Philip.
“We’re on the case again!” said Rodolfo, nudging his boyfriend with his elbow.
“Lucky us,” he muttered.
After a vigorous exchange of Rock/Paper/Scissors, Philip was up first for museum duty. “So what am I looking for again? I don’t have to break into any offices, do I?”
“No,” said Skyler. “Just kind of keep an eye on Jerome. And at the gift shop counter.”
“Now how can I do both?”
He patted his shoulder. “You’re clever. You’ll find a way.”
* * *
Skyler was in bed reading when Keith finally got home around one in the morning. “You shouldn’t have waited up for me,” he said as he passed through the bedroom doorway.
“I wouldn’t have slept anyway worrying about you. So?” He closed his book and set it aside. “What happened with Laurie Henderson?”
“She was cautious at first. And then remarkably nice about it. She’s not a big fan of Ethan Cooper, as it happens.”
“Only Jerome Williams is, and God knows why.”
Keith sat on the bed next to Skyler and Fishbreath jumped up to join them. He stroked the tabby that had come to look on Keith as his personal god. “So we talked…for a long time. She was actually glad to hear about how my life turned out. And I apologized again for what happened. And I met Josh. He’s a sweet kid.”
Skyler’s hand curled around the edge of the quilt. “And…does he look like you?”
“Not really. He looks more like Laurie. But that doesn’t mean anything. The upshot is that she agreed to the paternity test. Because she honestly didn’t know if it was me or someone else.”
Slut, thought Skyler, but he knew how uncharitable and misogynistic that sounded. The same could certainly be said of him…and often was.
“So maybe it’s not your kid.”
“Maybe. We’re going to this clinic together tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be late again.”
“Okay. Um…do you want me to go with you? I will, you know. As moral support.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but this must be weird for you.”
“I’m sure it’s weirder for you.”
“A little. Kind of an instant family.”
“Laurie was concerned that I’d want joint custody. I told her I didn’t. That I wouldn’t put her through that. But that I’d want to be part of his life. And I told her about you. Showed her a picture. She, uh, thinks you’re cute.”
“She does?”
“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”
Skyler flushed, perplexed at the confusing emotions roiling through him.
“Let’s just leave it as it is for now,” said Keith. “It will be a few days before we know anyway.” He sat a moment in thought before he rose to get to the bathroom for his evening routine.
“Keith?” He stopped and turned toward Skyler. “What’s the outcome you’re hoping for? I mean, I’ll support you no matter what. I’m just wondering…what do you want to happen?”
His face turned aside and he shrugged. “I don’t know. I want kids. Maybe not like this, but I do want them. I don’t honestly know.”
Skyler left him to it and sat back against the pillows. He bit his lip thinking about it all, and what it might mean to the two of them as he listened to the water running in the bathroom sink.
* * *
He didn’t see much of Keith at school and he knew he’d be home late again, which was just as well. Skyler had other fish to fry. It was decided that Philip would head over to the museum around two.
Every spare moment during the day when Skyler wasn’t worrying about Keith, he kept his eye on the museum cams. “Too bad they don’t have sound,” he muttered.
His phone chimed, notifying him of an email. He clicked on it and saw that his reimbursement check from the museum had bounced. “What?” There had been plenty in the ledger, if the written balance had been anything to go by. How could it have bounced?
He sent an email to Ron at the museum (even though the address still had Lester’s name on it) and in a matter-of-fact sort of tone, explained about the bounce, that it was no big deal, and whenever it could be dealt with would be fine. He didn’t voice his concern. Come to think of it, his paychecks from the museum had been coming to him later and later, but that was a moot point now that he was off the clock there.
The Nutrition bell rung, and Skyler stayed at his desk, trying to get in some extra work before the next class. The James Polk Podcast came up on the school speakers and Skyler was surprised to hear that it was Keith being interviewed. He set his work aside and sat back in his chair to listen.
“This is Lauren Swansen, your junior class correspondent and I’m here talking to biology teacher and football coach extraordinaire, Keith Fletcher. Thanks for talking with the Polk Podcast, Mr. Fletcher.”
“Thanks for having me, Lauren.”
“It’s been a little exciting lately with your newest recruit to the football team. This is JPH’s first girl on the team, am I right?”
“That’s right, Lauren. We’ve had some great teams at James Polk and this year is certainly no exception. But additionally this year, Elei Sapani came to the tryouts and she excelled.”
“It’s certainly a controversial move. I know there are factions of boys and girls at the school who think that a rough sport like football isn’t the place for a girl. But there are many others who think it’s probably about time to integrate the team.”
“Interesting that you should put it quite that way, Lauren. I do view this move as ‘integration’ of sorts. But let me make it clear. If no girl qualified to be in the scrimmage, I wouldn’t have put any in. Same thing with boys, really. Sapani is a good player and she deserved the chance, just as anyone who tries out for the team. They need strength, agility, and a real feel for it. Those are the only qualifications as far as I’m concerned.”
“But as I understand it, Coach, there was an altercation yesterday and Sapani was accused of punching a fellow football player. Is it true she’ll be sitting out the first game of the season?”
Skyler heard Keith’s hesitation. Boy, that sure got all over the school fast. He bit his lip, listening.
“There was, uh, a situation. And it is true that Sapani will be sitting out the game as would any student who engaged in inappropriate behavior.”
“Can you confirm that Elei Sapani beat up Alex Ryan?”
“No one was beaten up, Lauren. Those kinds of rumors need to be quashed right here. There was an incident and discipline was meted out. End of story.”
“There has been rumor of preferential treatment of Ms. Sapani on the team.”
Keith expelled an exasperated breath. “I can assure all your listeners out there that there is no preferential treatment for any member of the football team. The whole point of Title IX is to even the score, so that there is no preferential treatment of boys over girls, and girls over boys. That’s it really.”
“But Alex Ryan—”
“I have nothing more to say on that subject. Except to remind everyone to come to the game on Friday night.”
The reporter seemed disappointed that she couldn’t draw out any more controversy, but Keith made it plain that he was done talking and made a hasty exit.
Cringing, Skyler sent off an encouraging email to Keith, and he only half-listened to the other stories she and her male counterpart on the podcast discussed, before classes resumed.
* * *
The lunch bell, and his students gathered their things and exited the room, leaving Skyler alone to settle in. He grabbed his cooler from under his desk. It didn’t take long for Elei to arrive with her lunch bag. She was already getting comfortable at her desk when a sullen Alex shuffled in.
“Your extra assignments are on the board in the upper right hand square,” said Skyler as he dug into his sandwich.
Alex said nothing, but Elei looked up to the board before unwrapping her own sandwich. “We aren’t playing in Friday’s game,” she said. “My dad is pretty pissed about it.”
“Well, I hope you told him why.”
“Yeah, I did.” She looked back slyly at Alex but didn’t turn all the way around. “He told me what I did was right.”
Skyler was about to open his mouth but she cut in with, “But I also told him that you said it was wrong and I shouldn’t settle my differences with violence. And I agree.” She turned back toward Alex this time. “And I’m sorry, Alex. It was sort of a gut reaction.”
He stuffed his sandwich into his mouth and shrugged. With his mouth full, he said, “I’ve been told never to play the PMS card. By lots of girls.”
Elei chuckled. “Yeah, bruh. Nothing gets chicks madder than that.”
“I can tell.”
“Okay you two,” said Skyler, “finish up your lunches so you can get to the work. And Alex, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask me, okay?”
“Okay, Mr. Foxe.” He stuffed what remained of his sandwich into his mouth and got out his notebook. He sipped at his Coke can as he scribbled down the instructions from the board to his paper and then sat staring at the sheet. Skyler didn’t wait. He got up and walked to the back of the room and leaned on the boy’s desk explaining what Alex needed to do for the assignment. Alex seemed to understand and opened his workbook to read.
Skyler took the opportunity to read and correct his many students’ class assignments. Everyone worked quietly for some time, in fact, and well before the lunch bell rang, Elei handed in her papers. Skyler took them and began to read, his red marker only swiping a few marks across her page. “Good job, Elei,” he said, and handed them back. She sat at her desk for the rest of the time, drawing on her backpack with a marker while Alex continued to work, head down, pen moving along the lined paper, up to the bell.
Elei got up, waved to Skyler, and left while Alex gathered his things. He stuffed his notebook, workbook, and pen into his backpack and thrust his wrinkled sheet of lined paper toward Skyler. “I did the most that I could, Mr. Foxe.”
“Thanks, Alex. I’ll take a look. See you at sixth period.”
Alex waved hastily as he rumbled out of the room.
Those kids. Having these same students year after year was an interesting psychological experiment, he mused. He could almost track the arc of their understanding of the world as new experiences opened their eyes and minds. He hoped that the books he chose for his classes might help in small ways with that. It certainly couldn’t hurt.
He threw out his sandwich wrapper and zipped up his lunch cooler before stuffing it away again and remembered to check his phone for anything from Philip, before he realized it wasn’t two yet. Sighing, he got up and wiped his white board clean, readying for the next class.
* * *
During class, Skyler snuck a look at his phone, checking the museum cams, and sat up as he saw Philip walk in right on time. The man was looking as suspicious as a detective in a bad TV movie. The way he slunk around the room, looking over his shoulder, might have been comical under other circumstances. Though somehow, he got Jerome to engage with him. They talked. Jerome showed him exhibit after exhibit, talking the whole time. Finally Jerome left him to it and Philip rolled his eyes walking around. But then Jerome seemed to have gotten a phone call and stepped into a corner of the rotunda to answer it. Philip tried for nonchalant to move closer to him, presumably so he could eaves drop, and ended up unconvincingly reading book titles off the spines in the glass cases.
Fortunately, Jerome never noticed. His conversation appeared to get heated and finally he angrily shut it down. Skyler followed him to the next camera as Jerome approached Ron in the office, telling him something Ron didn’t look too happy about. Jerome spun on his heel and headed out the door, nearly running into Philip who had been lurking outside the office. He pushed past him and left. Philip watched perplexed until he seemed to decide something and went after him.
“Mr. Foxe?”
Skyler startled and looked up. He had been so absorbed that he completely forgot he was teaching a class. What sort of example was he setting?
Fortunately they were all supposed to be engrossed in reading silently. But the freshman standing in front of his desk had a piece of paper in her hand. “Sorry, Mr. Foxe. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t. What is it, Ms. Walters?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment. I’m supposed to go now.”
“Oh. That’s fine. Go ahead. Did you get the homework for tomorrow?”
“Yup. Bye.”
The freshmen seemed to be getting smaller every year. But to be fair, she was a pretty petite girl, after all.
He looked down at his phone. Where the hell had Philip gone? He couldn’t call him now. He did a quick text and kept looking at his screen for a reply. None was forthcoming.
* * *
Fifth period ended, and finally it was his favorite class again. But still nothing from Philip.
He was writing on the white board when he saw Alex stomp in. He had a pretty murderous look on his face, so much so that Skyler turned away from the board to watch him take his seat at the back of the room. That was certainly not the situation at lunchtime. What had happened between then and now? A moment later Rick sauntered in, and it didn’t look like they had been walking together. Rick didn’t even acknowledge Alex in the back as he lounged into his front row desk, sticking his long legs into the aisle.
Uh oh. Trouble in paradise.
Then Amber and Heather came in, thick as thieves with their heads close together. Amber was talking a mile a minute in hushed tones, while Heather scowled.
Drew pushed his way in and the usually jovial teen merely took his place and opened his binder without looking around.
What was going on here?
Elei came through the doorway last. She looked exhausted…or defeated. He couldn’t tell which, and simply dropped into her desk, her backpack forgotten as it pooled on the floor beside her.
“Hi, everyone,” Skyler said cautiously. “Uh…everyone having a good afternoon?”
Mostly noncommittal grunts. But even the quick-witted Rick had nothing to offer but a sour expression.
Skyler gestured toward the board with his marker. “Today, we’re going to ‘craft persuasive topic sentences that transition and reveal the main idea of the paragraph.’”
“In plain English?” asked Alex from the back of the room.
“In plain English, Mr. Ryan, we’re going to focus on topic sentences. Who can tell me the function of a topic sentence?"
Amber raised her hand. “The topic sentence gives the main idea.”
"Correct! In plain language, Mr. Ryan, the topic sentence gives the main idea, but we want more than just a basic sentence. We want A+ topic sentences. Please take down the notes I wrote on the board and then we’ll begin.”
They scrambled for their notebooks and three-ring binders. Pens worked busily until Skyler thought they were ready for the next part.
“So, I want you to write a paragraph for the following situation: You are the Empire and you are trying to persuade the citizens that a Jedi rebellion would be a bad safety issue. You’ve got five minutes. Go!”
“But…”
“Alex, just pretend you’re an Empire Stormtrooper. What would be best for the Empire? Your argument is safety. Got it?”
A small flame of an idea gleamed in his eyes. “Oh,” he said, and actually leaned down over his desk to work.
Skyler walked slowly down each aisle, reading over shoulders, offering suggestions here and there, before he looked up at the clock and called, “Time! Okay, can I get a couple of people to share what they wrote?” Amber had her hand straight up, but he turned away from her to pick someone new. “Emily, would you read yours?”
The teen held her notebook in both hands, leaning almost her entire body on her desk as she read out her paragraph.
“Good argument,” he offered. “It detailed the salient points. How about adding more critical reasons for each bullet point, rather than just a listing? Good job for a start. Anyone else? Stewart?”
The lesson went smoothly and the roughness of the students’ earlier attitudes seemed to fade into the background…until Heather dropped her pen and it rolled under Drew’s desk.
“O’Conner,” she said, “could you grab my pen for me?”
“I don’t know,” he said gruffly. “Am I qualified to make that move?”
“Just give me my pen, a-hole.”
“I think I’m too opinionated to get it for you.”
With a sneer of disgust, she got up from her desk and dove under his, shoving it back and nearly dislodging him.
“You gonna beat him up, too?” asked Tyler, the stringy-haired boy. “Seems like the football team is made of wusses who get beat up by girls.”
Alex spun in his seat to face the boy. “Shut the hell up, Tyler.”
Tyler sniggered and turned back to his paper.
“Alex,” Skyler warned.
Mouth squeezed tightly shut, Alex scowled at his paper.
“And you, Tyler, keep your opinions for the appropriate time. This isn’t it.”
Heather, with retrieved pen, sat back down, muttering about idiot boys.
The only way to shut it down was to move on into the lesson. Skyler proceeded to instruct them on the next part of the procedure. He answered questions, let more students share their progress, and finally ended the lesson with just about everyone understanding what their homework should be.
“We’ll take a look at it tomorrow. Good job, everyone. I mean it. You’re doing splendidly. If you have any questions, you know you can email me. You’re outta here.”
They gathered their things, binders stashed in the crooks of arms, notebooks stuffed into backpacks, and then the shuffle toward the door, chattering with one another or plugging themselves into smartphones.
He began stuffing his own homework papers—essays and sheets to correct—into his satchel, and when he looked up, Amber stood in front of his desk, clutching her binder to her chest. Alone.
“What’s up, Ms. Watson?”
She shook her head. “It’s not good. I’m sure you heard the Polk Podcast today. Well, Alex is being teased mercilessly about what happened.”
“Oh? I wasn’t aware of that.”
“He is. And I don’t think he and Rick are speaking to each other right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because of Alex’s attitude about girls on the team and some of the things he’s said that kind of come off racist.”
“Oh dear. I thought that the Teen Police Academy would be good for him about that.”
“It was! At least for a little while. And now Heather and Drew are arguing because he tried to be a mediator between Alex and Elei and Heather got jealous or something. It’s a mess.”
“Well, maybe we can sort it out at the GSA on Friday, huh?”
“I guess. I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks, Amber. A lot of these things sort themselves out, too. We’ll see what happens by Friday.”
“Of course Alex is peeved that he doesn’t get to play in the game.”
“Consequences, Amber.”
“I know. And Elei, too. But Heather is talking about dropping out of the cheerleading squad.”
“If she’s not enjoying it…”
“But she’s really good.”
“It isn’t for everyone.”
“I know.” She heaved a world-weary sigh. “Thanks, Mr. Foxe.”
“Have a good afternoon, Amber.” And the drama continues, he thought.
He gathered his things and finally got a text from Philip.
Overheard Jerome arguing with, I presume, Ethan. They have a storage locker. Followed him and found it.
Holy shit, Philip!
What shall we do now?
Meet up later. Jamie and I have class. Shakespearean at 8:30?
OK. Agent Philip out.
* * *
All through his hasty dinner, Skyler wondered about this storage locker. But what was there to wonder about? It had the stuff, he knew it did. Shit. He was ashamed of Jerome for his uncle’s sake. Why had he done it? And did he kill his own uncle? And for what? So he wouldn’t get caught? It was all for nothing if Jerome didn’t get the directorship anyway. What a mess.
He met Jamie at the foot of the stairs to the community center and he pulled Skyler aside before they went up. “So how did Keith react? Is he mad at me?”
“Well, he wasn’t happy about it.”
“Who would be? Why do I let you talk me into these things?”
“Because you are a good and loyal friend?”
“Well…I am that. But what did he say? Is the kid his? And did he really have sex with a girl?”
“He did have sex with a girl but he was drunk at the time.”
“I would have to be almost comatose. No kidding. I just can’t even.”
“He was with his jock friends and they dared him…”
“Oh my God! That does not sound like our Keith.”
“It was over ten years ago. He was young and stupid then. His words.”
“Wait.” Jamie rested a hand on his hip. “If that was ten years ago, that would make him…your age now.”
Skyler raised his chin primly. “Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Dish, dish!”
“Okay. So he…um, fulfilled his bet and then felt like an idiot cause I guess she sort of had a crush on him and he never saw her again.”
“Men are such pigs.”
“He didn’t know she was pregnant.”
“So is it his?”
“They don’t know. She doesn’t even know. She finally agreed to a paternity test.”
“This is serious, Sky. Does he want custody or something?”
He turned toward the stairs and began climbing. “He says he doesn’t. She was afraid of that very thing but he did say if it is his, he wants to be in the kid’s life.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I don’t really have a say in it, do I?”
“That’s not what I asked.” He stopped Skyler with a hand to his arm once they reached the doors. His gaze was earnest. “Do you want to be an instant family?”
“I…don’t know. No, I guess, if it comes down to it. But what can I do? It’s Keith’s life.”
“And yours, too.”
“But don’t you have to compromise on things when you’re a couple?”
Jamie’s expression slowly morphed to a smile. “My little Skyler’s growing up.”
“Shut up. Let’s go in, already.”
All the same women were there, and the instructors Steve Larson and Federico Rojas, the latter without his padded suit this time.
Larson clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. “Today, we’re going to try some throws.”
Jamie elbowed Skyler hard. His grin was wide. “I was looking forward to learning this!”
Larson looked their way and smiled. “Skyler, want to continue to be my Guinea Pig?”
“Sure, why not?” He slipped off his shoes as the women encouraged him with catcalls and whistles. He rolled his eyes. Honestly!
“This time, Skyler, I’ll have you be my attacker.”
“It’s about time,” said Skyler to the women’s laughter.
“You’re going to come at me from the front. Try to grab me.”
Skyler, hands out in front of him at hip-height, ruminated on what exactly to do. “Uh…”
“Just come at me. Grab me.”
Skyler lunged, grabbing him at the shoulders. Quicker than he could blink, he was tossed ass over teakettle onto the mat. He shook his head, stunned.
“You okay, buddy?” asked Larson, looking down at him.
“Yeah.” He took the offered hand to help him up.
“Let’s go through it slow motion like we did before. Grab hold of my shoulders, Skyler.”
Skyler did. Larson showed how he pushed his arm over Skyler’s and pinned it while grabbing his tricep. “Then you bring your other arm underneath that same arm of his and crook your arm so you’re clamping his armpit.”
Skyler felt fairly trapped at that point. And when Larson pivoted so his butt was facing Skyler, Skyler could see that when Larson knelt and curled his back, it was a physical inevitability for Skyler to simply follow through and fall over him. Which he did in slow motion.
“Want to try it on me, Skyler?”
“With all my heart.” He faced Larson, and when the man grabbed him, he was able to slip his arm down, clamp his other arm as instructed, pivot, kneel, and voila! Larson was down. “I did it!”
“You sure did, buddy. First time, too. Now. Let’s everyone line up. Get your partners. It’s a throw down!”
Skyler watched Jamie get thrown and do his own throwing of the ladies present, even as they giggled the whole time.
Skyler was able to do it each time and he wondered if he could finally throw Keith if given the chance.
Pumped after the class, he and Jamie made their way to the Shakespearean to meet up with the rest of the SFC.
“You should have seen Skyler tonight,” gushed Jamie, settling on his chair next to Dave. “He was throwing like a pro-wrestler. All we needed were the folding chairs.”
“It seemed really easy once I got the hang of it.” He preened, pushing his beer mat back and forth.
“I’m so happy for you,” drawled Philip. “That will come in so handy when you meet your next bad guy.”
Dave frowned. “Let’s hope Sky never has to use it.”
“So let’s get our drinks and Philip can fill us in.” Skyler signaled for the waiter and he took their orders. “Philip? What happened?”
“I went to the museum this afternoon and talked briefly to Jerome. He’s quite knowledgeable, by the way, and it’s a very interesting collection. I don’t know why I haven’t been there sooner.”
“Philip.” Rodolfo sighed. “We don’t need a tour. Get on with the story.”
“I’m getting there. I’m just saying that he talked lovingly about everything. It seems so unlikely that he would have a hand in fencing the stuff.”
Everyone paused as the waiter brought their beers and set each pint in front of them. Dave picked up his and drank through the foam. “Who knows what motivates a person? If his financial situation was dire, for instance, he might just have to do the unthinkable.”
“It was strange to think of him as a possible murderer,” Philip went on. “It was all very surreal, actually. But then he wandered away to answer his phone. And I gathered it was from the dreaded E-person. They argued. I could only hear snatches of what Jerome was saying. He kept telling E-person—”
“You can say his name,” said Skyler with an exasperated scowl.
“All right, then, he kept telling Ethan to stop doing what he was doing and not to touch one more thing, that he would be right there to discuss it. Sounded mighty suspicious to me. And then he went into the office and told that preppy fellow he was leaving. Some kind of emergency. I didn’t know what to do so I followed him. I tried to keep him in my sight, got to my car, and drove after him.”
“Did he see you, minino?” asked Rodolfo.
“I really don’t think he noticed anything. He was spitting mad.”
“Seems to be his natural state these days,” said Skyler.
“Well, with that polla of a boyfriend…”
“Anyway,” said Philip interrupting. “I managed to follow him to a storage place.”
Rodolfo speared his finger into the air. “Aha!”
Jamie made a face. “Didn’t you already hear this story?”
“It’s better every time my minino tells it.”
“ANYWAY,” said Philip, louder this time.
“We’re all listening, Philip,” said Dave, taking another long drink.
“I followed him to this storage place and found which locker or whatever they call it was. And they’re open till nine.”
Skyler checked his watch. “It’s almost nine now. Maybe we should go.”
Everyone rose except Jamie. “I didn’t even get to drink my beer.”
Dave tugged on his arm. “Come on, Jamie! The SFC waits for no man.”
Jamie lunged for the table, grabbed his pint, and pounded two thirds of it down in one go. He gasped and licked the foam from his lips. “Fortified! Now we can go.”
They all piled into Dave’s new black Cadillac CT6. Skyler brushed his palms against the beige leather seats. “Nice, Dave.”
Jamie settled in the front passenger seat and buckled in. “His car talks to him. Tells him the weather and how the brakes are doing. I swear, if it starts giving blow jobs I guess he’ll get rid of me faster than Nicole Kidman runs out on a Scientology picnic.”
“Hon,” said Dave, resting a hand on Jamie’s thigh, “you are one-of-a-kind-irreplaceable.”
“That’s a relief.”
Skyler consulted his watch again. “Can we just go?”
Dave pressed the button to start it up and peeled away from the parking space. He drove as per Philip’s instructions and pulled up to the storage facility just as they were locking the gate.
“Shit,” said Skyler. “We’re too late.” He stared at the fence through the car window. “Where was it, Philip?”
“Just around the corner to the right. Number one fifty-six.”
Skyler studied the fence and opened the car door. He stood on the sidewalk looking up at the metal bars.
Philip scooted along the seat, opened the window, and hung out of it. “What are you doing, Skyler?” he rasped. “The gate is locked.”
Skyler walked along the fence. It was some kind of painted metal where the top curved outward to sharp, discouraging points. “I bet we can climb that.”
Philip scrambled out of the car followed by Rodolfo. “We most certainly cannot.”
“Sure we can. If you’d give me a boost. I can pull myself over that curved bit and jump down to the other side.”
“Skyler!”
“What?”
“Are you insane?”
“He’s got the museum exhibits in there! He has no right to them. And he might have murdered Mr. Huxley to get them.”
“Then maybe you should call Sidney?”
“And that will take forever and he might get rid of all the evidence by then.” He grabbed the fence and looked up. “I’m gonna climb it.”
But Philip grabbed him. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not thinking. You’ll get caught. Don’t you think this place has cameras?”
They both turned their heads and spied one aimed at the front gate. “It’s looking at the gate, not over here.”
Dave slammed his door and joined them just as Jamie came up beside him. “We could get into big trouble, Sky,” said Dave.
“Which is why I’m going alone. Will someone give me a boost?”
Everyone looked at each other.
“Come on, guys. SFC? Scooby Gang?”
Dave shook his head. “What are you gonna do when you get to the lock-up?”
“Well, I’ll…” He glanced at the other metal roll-up doors. They all seemed to be secured with padlocks. “Oh. Um…”
Dave sighed and turned back toward his car. But instead of walking around to the driver’s side, he opened the trunk. He took out something and returned to the fence. “I suppose we’re gonna need this.”
Jamie blinked at him. “What is that?”
Dave rested the long, two-handled tool through the fence’s bars. “It’s a bolt cutter.”
“And why do you have a bolt cutter in your car?”
“In case I come across a fire and have to get through something. Always be prepared.”
Skyler grinned. “Dave, you’re a lifesaver. Boost me?”
Dave swept the others with a glance, quirked a smile, and crouched to lace his hands together as a step.
“Dave!” screeched Jamie. “Are you crazy? Skyler could get into a lot of trouble.”
“That’s why I’m going with him. What about you, sweet thing?”
“Me?” He glared skeptically at the fence. “Climb that?”
“I’ll help you.”
Jamie sighed dramatically. “Good grief. Okay.”
“Well if he’s going, then I’m going,” said Rodolfo.
“No you’re not!” said Philip. “I am really putting my foot down.”
“And it’s so cute when you do that, Philip. But I'm going to help Skyler. It’s what friends do.”
“No, friends help friends stay out of jail. I swear, Skyler, sometimes you are too stupid to live. Oh for the love of… Fine! I’ll stay on this side of the fence. Someone will need to bail you imbeciles out when you get arrested.”
Rodolfo suddenly grabbed him, leaned him over, and gave him the wettest, loudest kiss, Skyler had ever heard. “You are my hero!” he declared and let Philip go.
Slightly dazed, Philip wiped at his mouth and took a staggering step back. “It’s ridiculous,” he muttered.
Skyler set his foot on the step Dave made and by rested his hand on Dave’s shoulder. Dave managed to hoist Skyler up and boosted him higher. Skyler grabbed hold of the sharp curved fence along the top. Designed to keep people out, it hadn’t looked all that impenetrable from the ground, but up close and personal, it was formidable enough. “Can you boost me a little higher?” he stage whispered.
Dave put his back into it and Skyler threw a leg up over the curve. Those spikes were dangerously close to his groin, but he tried not to think about it as he rolled over it and grabbed onto the bars to slow his progress down to the other side. “Hey! Piece of cake. How about Rodolfo next?”
Rodolfo’s sinewy elegance on a dancefloor did not seem to translate to climbing over fences. He squeaked and squawked his way over the top after much work by both Dave and Jamie. Philip muttered and wrung his hands the whole time.
“Okay, Jamie,” said Dave. “You’re next.”
Jamie gnawed on his thumbnail. “It’s really high. I don’t think I can make it.”
Dave leaned forward and bestowed a gentle kiss and they were lip-locked for quite a few moments. Jamie pulled back and gazed dreamily at his boyfriend. “Well why didn’t you say that before?”
He dug his foot into the step Dave made and reached up. Being much taller than Skyler certainly helped, but he dangled precariously from the pointed ends before he was able to stumble over the fence, but not before tearing his shirt first.
“Fuck. That was a Dolce & Gabbana, and I didn’t buy it at an outlet.”
“Sorry, Jamie,” said Skyler, grimacing at the tear.
“Here I come,” said Dave, oblivious to the fashion disaster that had just occurred. He jumped up, grabbed the pointy part, and hauled himself up, arm muscles bulging.
Everyone stopped to watch him. By brute strength, he nimbly cleared the fence and landed superhero-style on the other side.
Skyler and Jamie exchanged a look. “My fire-fightin’ man,” murmured Jamie.
“What was the number again, minino?” asked Rodolfo of Philip, nervously bouncing on the other side of the fence.
“One fifty-six. And would you all please hurry?”
Dave grabbed the bolt cutters through the bars and followed as Skyler led the way. The place was brightly lit, so that was no problem. But he did worry about the cameras he kept seeing aimed in all directions over what looked like an endless compound of tiny garages.
They followed the numbers up to the one they were looking for and stood before it. It, like all the others, was sealed with a padlock.
Dave held the tool, what looked like a giant set of pliers, and cocked his head. “Shall we further break and enter?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Skyler was suddenly feeling the weight of what they were doing. In the heat of the moment, it was all very exciting, but this was serious. They had already trespassed onto private property. Was he really going to break and enter, add burglary to any charges levied against him should he be caught? “Maybe I should do it, Dave.”
Dave waved him off. “Skyler, there’s no way you can work this thing. And we’ve already been spotted by about a million cameras. That safety ship sailed the moment we climbed that fence.” He lifted the bolt cutters and placed the pincer end on the padlock’s shackle. “Bye-bye, career,” he said, before putting those triceps to good use again. The cutter seemed to cut through the lock’s shackle like butter and it snapped in two.
“That’s a pretty handy thing to have around…as is the man wielding it,” said Jamie, leaning over to kiss him again.
Skyler waved everyone back. “Let me do it. I don’t want your fingerprints all over it. Why don’t I ever remember about gloves?” Delicately with one finger, he pushed the lock away, knelt, and threw the roll doors up.
It made a lot of noise in the quiet of the night, but once it was firmly set overhead, Skyler peered inside. Naturally it was too dark to see anything.
As if on cue, four phones were whipped out at the same time with flashlight beams spearing into the darkness.
“Ho-ly shit,” said Dave.
Skyler expected to see Abe Lincoln’s stovepipe hat sitting pride of place in the middle, with the rest of the missing museum exhibits around it.
“What’s all this?”
Dave stepped forward, and careful not to get his fingerprints on anything, lifted a tag or two with the very tip of his finger. “Looks like lots and lots of sports shoes and equipment.”
“And shirts and stuff,” said Jamie.
“This is not from your museum, amante,” said Rodolfo, stating the obvious.
Dave whistled. “Some of these have store tags. Looks like a shitload of stolen goods.”
Jamie nodded. “Could even be counterfeit.”
“What?” Skyler scanned the unit, looking for anything else that might be lurking in the background. But all the boxes and bags were strictly merchandise, looking like they came straight from the factory. Or out of the back of a truck. “This can’t be right.” He lifted his phone, but this time switched it to camera mode and took pictures.
Dave held his phone higher to shine his light into the back. Nothing more was there but the back wall. “What did Philip say Jerome was yelling into the phone?”
Jamie fiddled with his torn shirt. “Something about stopping doing what he was doing—Ethan, presumably. You think the two of them are in cahoots?”
“Yeah,” said Skyler. “But not fencing museum stuff.” Skyler reached up to the rope attached to the door and hauled it down, closing it up. “I guess we’d better…”
In the distance he heard the sound of dogs barking…and they were getting closer.
Dave stuffed his phone away and tucked the bolt cutters under his arm. “I think we’d better scram.”
They turned and ran. The barking was definitely coming closer.
Shit! thought Skyler. Torn apart by dogs, never to be seen again? Keith would never forgive me!
They ran hell-for-leather back to the gate. Philip was as white as a sheet and grasping desperately to the fence bars. “Hurry! The dogs!”
“We know, Philip!” gasped Skyler. He wasn’t quite ready when Dave hoisted him up, but there was no time to waste. Straddling the fence on his belly, Skyler was soon joined by Rodolfo. They both hastily turned as best they could but ended up tripping each other up and fell to the other side in a tangle of limbs. The something soft that broke their fall turned out to be Philip.
“Jesus, Philip, I’m sorry!” cried Skyler.
“Minino, are you all right?”
With the wind knocked out of him, Philip couldn’t yet reply. Another body sailed past them, and Jamie bounced upright, shaking his head. “Come on, Dave!”
Dave shoved the bolt cutters through the fence. “Jamie, start the damn car!” He tossed his keys to Jamie.
He caught them and ran around to the driver’s side, hitting the button on the key fob. “The car, the car. Oh I hope it listens to me.” He cast open the door and the engine roared to life.
The dogs—German Shepherds—cleared the corner and with scrabbling of claws, ran full bore toward Dave. He leapt for the fence and climbed, feet walking up the metal bars. The dogs arrived and barked, jumping after him, nipping at his heels.
Skyler, Philip, and Rodolfo backed away from their snarling muzzles. Dave was at the top and leapt down. He looked back at the angry dogs and motioned toward the car. “What the hell are y’all waitin’ for?”
Everyone piled in and before doors could be closed and seat belts fastened, Jamie tore away from the curb and with tires squealing, shot down the street.