The Unearthing of Blackstone Page 11

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  This is the thing that really gets me.

  Brooklyn stood in front of her work area, holding the report in one hand and her cup of ginger tea in the other.

  Shit. I’m going to have to go to the dig site. It’s been compromised by now though.

  She stomped back to her seat and sat down, completely drowning in frustration. She’d stopped smoking eight months ago, and the yearning was now stronger than ever. She had never been a big time smoker to begin with, maybe two or three a day, just enough to calm her ass down. Yet, after seeing her teeth darkening a tad, and figuring it wasn’t good for her health, she let the vice go. She now had nothing to cling onto in her time of need — except that she had replaced her slight nicotine habit with a gym membership.

  So what to do? Go exercise?

  Damn it!

  Crucial information was missing regarding her latest project. A colleague and his team had discovered a tomb in San Diego and inside were the remains of a man, obviously centuries old. Once she got wind of the case, she volunteered to offer her expertise on identification. This was her proficiency after all, but she needed at least a little to go on, and all she had was a femur bone and partial skull fragment. All the other parts turned out to be animal carcass.

  …You must be kidding me.

  She sighed loudly and glanced at the clock… 6:49 P.M.

  She wanted to bum a cigarette off Tyler, another anthropologist in the department, so badly, but fought the urge. She looked around, looking for her bag.

  There might be an old pack in here!

  Grabbing her oversized black leather purse, she dumped the contents out, rummaged through it as if it were a free pile of goodies at a garage sale. She tossed her chap stick to the side, her leopard print mirror compact and a crumpled ball of grocery receipts along with a fifty-cents off coupon for Frosted Flakes. Reaching into a side pocket, she removed her cellphone, hoping and praying the pack was there, or even that one renegade cigarette had survived her anti-smoking campaign and stayed hidden in the compartment, just for such an emergency.

  Damn it!

  She found nothing but balls of lint, a few rusty pennies and a dime, her beat-up red faux leather wallet, a white business card with one corner bent at the end and what she suspected was a Tic Tac that had gotten moist from some unknown spilled substance as it stuck to the downy insides. She rested her eyes on the business card as she huffed in frustration. Picking it up, she remembered who’d given it to her and smiled. She ran her thumbnail against it, feeling the slightly rough texture.

  Ace Blackstone. He was a nice lookin’ guy…funny, too. Hmmm…

  She flipped the card around and around, gave her cellphone a shifty glance, then looked back at the card. She hadn’t been on a date in months. It wasn’t that she didn’t get asked. Matter of fact, she even dated a few guys that Ivy insisted she go out with because they were ‘gorgeous’, but many things happened that brought everything to a halt. Either she was simply not into the guy or there was just no spark, nothing that kept her interest. It wouldn’t matter if she was interested or not, though…shit was entirely too complicated. Her life wasn’t normal, and she couldn’t pretend that it was.

  Why do I even take myself through all of this?

  She tossed the card aside and sighed. Here was the conundrum, rearing its ugly head again. Ivy had already written her off as bat-shit crazy with her insane trumped up list as to why the ‘latest’ candidates were dismissed, the proverbial door slammed on an otherwise budding courtship. She couldn’t tell the woman the truth, so she had to grasp at bent straws. Sometimes the straws could stand —laced as they were with the truth —but other times, she found herself blurting the first excuse that came to mind. Lie after lie after lie…

  Before long, she’d run into a guy who wanted more than just a sweet kiss and a warm body to lie next to. She hated the guys that did this. The man that fit this description would try to get serious, wanting to dive in deep, mark her for a potential relationship and get into her background.

  Hell, it was a reasonable turn of events. She was tired of lying about it, quite frankly, as well as fatigued with the whole status of being single. She teetered on the fence, creating her own issues, but what was she to do? She’d chosen this life, so everything happened by default. What a sticky predicament. She didn’t have to stay solo, but relationships came with strings attached, and those strings could end up wrapping around her throat and strangling her. Thus, she’d made her choice.

  If I call this man, it will be the same ol’ crap all over again. But…I would like to go out and have a conversation with someone other than the people here and Ivy. Not that there is anything wrong with Ivy, I just…dunno… I think I’m getting tired, is all. He was interesting, though. There was just something about him. Hmmmm… I need something else, something different…

  She ran her hands over her face and leaned back in her seat, dragging her eyes down with her fingertips, making them droopy — it sure as hell matched how she felt. She was a serial dater, but if she didn’t want to be alone she had to and move out of her comfort zone. It was time for a change. She’d remain stuck in this rut, her life a succession of workdays, if she didn’t take a leap of faith.

  Grabbing the card and her phone, she dialed the number. A small part of her hoped and prayed he didn’t answer, but another part of her desired just the opposite as she heard the first ring from the other end of the line…

  ~***~

  “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me!”

  Ace waiting impatiently as he watched what he presumed was a man in his mid-fifties showing off tiny white gym shorts wedged tight in the crack of his ass on the stack incline press machine. His damned socks were pulled nearly all the way to his forehead and a too small blue tank top hugged his boxy chest like bandages across a mummy. Young women sauntered by, and this clown was really laying it on thick, vying for female attention.

  The man had chosen the best machine out of the whole place to work his exercise routine on. He grunted and struggled, while a line formed behind him; this particular machine was just that popular. Newer than the others, it had all the bells and whistles and cushion in just the right places. Ace had seriously considered changing gyms over this sort of nonsense, but this place was close to his home and typically, he could get in and out fairly easily. The work-out equipment at the penthouse clubhouse was too quiet, too sleepy and depressing. This place had the vibe he wanted, but it came with a price.

  The current bane of his existence kept on strutting his stuff, his sweaty head glistening. His scalp offered the landscaping grounds for an obvious hair replacement system. The tiny veins in his neck bulged at every insignificant effort.

  Pathetic weakling. Get the fuck outta the way!

  Finally, after he’d gotten his fill, seemingly oblivious to the death glares and curses from Ace and others, the guy sauntered off, allowing Ace to take his seat.

  “Ya left sweat all over the goddamn machine and didn’t wipe it off!” Ace huffed, calling out to the bastard as he continued to stagger away, his gait bowlegged and his pride no doubt intact due to selective hearing. Ace angrily grabbed a wet wipe from his bag, and began to go over the machine with a swift, hard hand before lying back to begin his reps. With a sniff, he got situated and had just fallen into a rhythm when his cellphone vibrated against his thigh. The pocket of his off-gray jogging pants did a bit of a jig as the call came through.

  He rose, looked behind him and noted the glances from annoyed onlookers.

  “Just a minute…” he mumbled as he grabbed the phone and answered the unknown caller.

  “Yeah…”

  “Um, is this Mr. Blackstone? Ace Blackstone? This is Brooklyn Greene.”

  He swallowed hard and caught a reflection of himself in the smudged mirrored wall. He looked damn goofy with that silly ass grin plastered to his perspiring face.

  “Yes, this is he.” He tried to sound less agitated as
he grabbed his belongings and forfeited his workout for a conversation with Ms. Greene, much to the glee of the next guy in line. “Just a sec.” The man clamored behind him, eager to take advantage of his lucky break, while Ace made his way back to the changing area and shower enclosures. He slumped down on a slanted bench in need of tightening due to loose screws. It made a clapping noise once he sat upon it.

  “Did I interrupt you?” Her sweet voice cut through the crud swarming in his mind.

  “Nah, well, yeah, but it isn’t a big deal. I was working out is all.”

  “Oh…well, I can call you back.”

  “No! I mean…no, it’s fine.” He ran a hand over his knee. Around him, half dressed men paraded back and forth to lockers and the whistle of a freshly turned on shower screamed throughout the enclosure.

  “Okay, well, I was just calling per your request.”

  “Do you always sound so formal?” Ace chuckled.

  “Well…I…”

  “Per my request, huh? I’d hope you called because you want to take me up on my offer to have a great dinner, get to know one another, ya know? So, what type of food do you like?” He rose from his seat and paced about, dabbing at his forehead with a hand towel. He had nervous energy and a need to get the spastic vigor out of his system.

  She called. This day isn’t turning out to be so bad after all.

  “I’m pretty open. I consider myself rather greedy, actually.” She laughed, poking fun at herself. He detected a bit of edginess in her tone, and found it both refreshing and endearing.

  “I’m greedy, too.”

  I want to taste your damned lips…both sets.

  “What about Table Fifty-Two? Sound like a winner?” he offered, shoving lurid thoughts aside.

  He was greeted with laughter.

  “Wow… Fancy, huh? You’re really going all out.”

  “What? You prefer Burger King? Have it your way,” he teased, causing her to spill more soft giggles into his ear.

  “No, no…I’ll take your first offer for five-hundred, Alex Trebek,” she said lightly.

  “You’ll take what’s behind door number one, huh?”

  “Wrong game show, but I’ll play. Yes, and what did I win, Mr. Blackstone?”

  Flirting…flirting…flirting…

  “A date with the most sophisticated man in all of Chicagobut, unfortunately, he was busy, so they sent me instead.” She burst out laughing. “Nah, I’m not sophisticated, that much is true, but I try to be at times. So, do you like to dance? Maybe we could go dancing afterward.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am. Is there something wrong? You don’t like to dance?” He shoved his hand in his pocket and scratched the back of his head; his face was starting to hurt from all his grinning. His lips seemed to be frozen in that position.

  “There is absolutely nothing wrong with dancing, I’ve just…well, I’ve never had a man ask me out to dance before.”

  “Hey, don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t call myself the best dancer, but I can cut a rug or two.”

  “I like to line dance. What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh no, no line dancing. I was thinking of something a bit more interactive. I know this little spot where we can tango.”

  “Tango, huh?” He could tell she was grinning wide now. “But I don’t know how to tango. Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse to feel me up, Mr. Blackstone?” she cackled. He absolutely loved it. She was open, like a flower blooming right before his eyes and ears. He never expected the conversation to go this well, so smoothly. Words and chemistry he could hold tight against him, that left him warm and tingly.

  “It might be, but I can tango. I can show you how. I’m a good teacher…trust me.”

  “You know what?”

  “What?” He paused from his panther prancing and braced himself.

  “Why not…sure!”

  “Alright, great. Now, what is your availability like? We could maybe hook up tonight, tomorrow… or would another day altogether be better?”

  I sound so damn desperate, just fucking sad. Oh well, I want to see you again and it’s been driving me crazy…

  “Tomorrow would work, Ace. Tonight I think would be pushing it, plus I doubt you could get reservations at Table Fifty-Two this late in the game.”

  “I kinda know someone…but yeah, I can respect that,” He ushered the conversation along, rearing to hook her into a time. “…So tomorrow at six?”

  He hated how his body continued to warm while he was caught in the rapture of her voice. This crush he had on the poor woman was overwhelming his bravado.

  “Make it seven. Seven is better.” He heard a clanking noise, as if she had a set of keys in her hand.

  “Got it. So do me a favor. I’m getting ready to finish my workout.” He sniffed again, fearful of a cold on the horizon; it could ruin all of his effort if he had to cancel. He wiped his nose with his index finger as he paced a bit faster, the muscles in his neck and shoulders clenched. “Text me your home address and I’ll come pick you up.”

  “Okay, I will. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow...”

  “I look forward to speaking with you, spending some time together…”

  An awkward silence ensued.

  “Mmmm, okay, well, see you then. Bye now.” He sensed again the smile in her tone, and it turned him on.

  “Goodbye, Brooklyn…” He disconnected the call, wallowed in the moment a bit and re-played the conversation in his mind as he slumped back down onto the bench, goofy grin plastered on his face.

  I am completely losing my cool with this woman, and I’ve never even touched her yet...

  Storming back out into the gym area, he looked for something big to tamp his excitement down a notch or two. He felt good, damn near great. He thundered over to an Elliptical machine, popped in his earbuds and hit play on his MP3 player.

  ‘Crawling’ by Linkin Park blasted in his eardrums, giving him the motivation to do one of hell of a back-bending workout that would leave him pleasantly sore and distract him from the boner that strained against his jogging pants.

  If I wasn’t careful, I just may have jizzed all over my fuckin’ self…

  He laughed at himself as he got into his glide, with pep in his step and vigor in his bravado…

  ~***~

  A small silver and gold accented pendulum swung back and forth on Dr. Rose’s desk. Ace kept his eyes keenly upon it as the late morning sun filtered through the vast window behind the man, reminding him of a breakfast commercial.

  “Would you like me to close the blinds?” the doctor asked, pointing casually behind himself before crossing his legs in his customary fashion and taking a slow sip of what Ace assumed to be coffee.

  “It’s fine.” Ace gave a slight wave of his hand, maintaining focus on the hypnotic contraption. He looked at the damn thing with such intensity; perhaps the stupid thing would fly away if he willed it hard enough. He’d have liked to fly away, too. Everything inside of him wanted to bolt, run towards the exit. The cells in his body did a jittery dance but his heart needed the reprieve; thus, he stayed put.

  “So, today I had planned to discuss your family in more depth, but you stated you have another issue you wish to examine, correct?” Dr. Rose placed his coffee mug back down.

  “Yes.” Ace sat up, cupped his elbows, held himself for a moment, then took a long hard look at his shoes. They weren’t particularly interesting, but for some reason, he was avoiding eye contact with the man. “Remember how last week we talked about my job a little? Well, I’ll admit that I get lost in my work from time to time.”

  “It is a diversion? A vacation from what actually bothers you?”

  “I wouldn’t call it an escape, but…it gives me something back. Like, I really need to do it; it helps me, inside.” He stared at the ground. “Other peoples’ problems become my problems, ya know? Until I solve it. The chase for the conclusion excites me. Finding the subject and telling th
e client I got ’em gives me a charge. I’ve done it thousands of times, but it never gets old…kinda like an orgasm I guess.” He laughed lightly, took a quick glance at the doctor who offered him a kind smile, but no words as of yet.

  “Well, recently I did some shi…some stuff that really made no sense.” Leaning back in his chair, he ran his hand roughly over his mouth and slowly shook his head.

  Do I really want to get into this with this man? Once I say it, it’s out there, and there is no reeling it back in…

  “What did you do that you feel wasn’t rational or out of character?”

  “I…”

  Here goes nothing.

  “… was presented a case that had gone unsolved for quite some time.”

  “Mmmm hmmm.”

  “Now, I rarely back down from a challenge, Dr. Rose, so I took it. I was already knee deep in other investigations, but I trust my gut on this stuff, and decided to go ahead. It was a bit frustrating, but I did solve the case.”

  Dr. Rose shrugged. “So far, so good.”

  “I found the subject. My problem is…my problem is, I am now questioning my motivations.”

  “Questioning your motivations? If you did not find him or her for the client, then who did you find them for?”

  “That’s what I’m still trying to understand. You see…” He ran his hand nervously over his knee, then pulled at the polymer blend material. “It started out normal, like any other case, and me being me, I got lost in it, which is customary. After awhile though, it seemed it turned into a bit of an obsession, more so than usual. I think I get it now…” He was piecing the shit together as he aired his dirty laundry to the man. The mysterious fog in his brain began to clear. “I was driven hard to find her and it was for all the wrong reasons.”

  “So…it’s a her.” The doctor paused as if he, too, were putting two and two together. “What reasons propelled you forward that you question?”

  “I’m going to admit something that is unprofessional, but you should know, so you can really understand where I am coming from.”