The Myth of Reality

Chapter Three

'Mary had a Little Lamb....'

"Are you taking the back way?" Beth asked as she placed her steno, pencil, and book back into her briefcase. "If you do, then we can park with the teachers and maintenance people."

"Will there be enough cars for camouflage?" he asked with a glance in her direction.

She tried to catch his gaze and let him know she was trying to cooperate and be nice, but he kept his eyes on the road. "Usually. I don’t really know."

"Any idea where the dean will keep the manuscript?"

"I had it addressed to myself in care of dean Orbach. He may have put it in my office."

"Then again, he may have it in his office," Mr. Kelsey added.

"Yes." She sent him a questioning gaze. "We should split up, right?"

"Don’t see any other way." He reached behind his seat and dug into his backpack. "I don’t know how much experience you’ve had with guns, but under the circumstances... There it is." He handed her a snub-nosed .38. "Do you know how to use this?"

She took it from him, giving it a slight rub with her thumb before checking the bullets and pushing the cylinder back into place. She met his eyes. "I’ll manage."

"Something tells me that’s an understatement." He turned to stare at the road behind them and then turned back around. "I don’t see our friends from before, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Let’s get to the University and get on our way back to New York as soon as we can."

"I couldn’t agree more."

Mr. Kelsey turned down the road that led to the maintenance building and pulled into a space between a large cleaning van and a shuttle bus. "This is as good as it gets." He climbed out of the Cherokee and shut the door, watching her as she did the same. "Is fifteen minutes enough time," he asked. He checked the clip in his gun and slammed it back in place. "I’ll come in after you if you’re not here when the time’s up."

She stepped down and tucked the pistol into her windbreaker as the two of them met in front of the jeep. Looking up at him, she saw a hint of fear darken his green eyes. It made her wonder about his past again.

"Be careful," she said.

"I will. It’s you I’m worried about."

She smiled at the seriousness of his tone. "I’ll be fine," she told him as she started for the college.

Fifteen minutes isn’t very long. I better hurry.

The halls reverberated with her running steps as she made her way to the building of her office. Hurry. Beth squeaked to a stop in front of her office door and dug her keys out of her pocket. When she unlocked the door, she slipped in to quietly close it behind her. There was no package on her desk. Beth scowled and hurried to her desk, fumbling with the drawers one by one.

"It’s got to be here," she mumbled.

She sunk into her chair with a scowl. If I can just think for a second... Where would dean Orbach have put it for safe keeping over the summer--? Beth sat up sharply. He wouldn’t have sent it back to her parent’s home would he? Beth rolled her eyes and stood to run for the door. I’ve got to get to the mail-room! She glanced down at her watch and shrugged. I can’t return to the car to let him know where I’m going. I’ve must do this now.

She hurried out of the building and ran for the maintenance office again, but then she hesitated. Mr. Orbach never used that mail-room because he’d lost too many letters that way. He always used the one in the main office. She turned on her heel and sprinted across campus for the main building, all the while thankful for her loyalty to the five mile jogs each morning. Okay, she thought as she jerked the doors open, if it’s not here you have to go back.

Beth ran down the hall and used her key to the mail-room. Her eyes focused on a package in the ‘outgoing’ slot.

"Yes," she hissed.

She grabbed the package and sighed, but when she turned to face a dark-haired man with a cigarette between his lips she tensed. Beth gripped the package and took a step back.

"Now, now, love," he soothed in an English accent. He took a step forward and Beth’s eyes looked past him to the door. "Don’t be so sure I’m going to hurt you," he reassured her.

She edged along the wall while keeping a wary eye on him. When she made a dash for the door, his arm wrapped around her waist and jerked her sharply away from it.

"Let go," she screeched.

"Well you’re a bit of a cat, aren’t you?"

"I’ve got claws, too."

He clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly squeezing off the air to her nose, and brought his lips to her ear. "Listen well, my pet. You’ve led me to what I want, so don’t think I need you alive anymore."

Beth wriggled, clawing at his hand over her mouth as she struggled for air.

He wrenched her head to one side and she screamed in pain, the hand muffling the sound. "Claws in, cat, or you’re dead."

Beth tensed and helplessly stared down at the package lying so innocent a few inches from her feet. She knew Mr. Kelsey was out looking for her, but where could he even begin to look? He’d never get there in time. A plan, Beth, she told herself sharply. You need a plan! She hesitated and then closed her eyes, forcing herself to go limp. The man’s grip tightened a moment before he laid her down on the floor and turned to pick up the package with a chuckle. Beth slowly pulled her gun out of the pocket of her windbreaker. She pointed it at him, arms steady as her hands gripped the wood butt. She pulled back the hammer and the man tensed but didn’t turn around.

"I warned you about my claws."

"And how sharp are they, pet?"

She slowly stood, keeping a generous distance between herself and the captive. "Sharp enough to have the job done and make you wish you hadn’t asked."

"But would you be able to kill, I wonder?"

Beth gnawed on her lower lip a moment. "Don’t wonder too hard. It doesn’t take much to bring a person down, I’ve been told. Who ever said I would need to kill a person to get them to stop? I’m sure a bullet in the right place would hurt bad enough without killing them."

He chuckled and raised the package. "I suppose you want this?"

"Leave it by the door, if you please."

"It would be my pleasure."

He bent and set it on the floor, then made a motion to turn as he straightened. She stepped forward and pressed the cold steel against his neck. He froze. "Please don’t," she told him. "Get on the floor. Face down."

He did so and Beth stepped around him, careful to stay out of arms reach as she nudged the package along with her foot. She opened the door, kicked the package into the hall, and then looked down at her captive.

"I don’t know who you are and I don’t care, but I don’t like being called anything other than my name." She hit him on the back of the head with the butt of her gun and turned for the door. "Remember that," she muttered.

She scooped up the package and ran as fast as she could for the exit doors. Slamming out into the afternoon sunshine, she narrowed her eyes and scanned for any sign of Mr. Kelsey. Then she sent a glance over her shoulder and took off running again. She didn’t know how long he was going to be out and she didn’t want him to get a hold of her again. A shiver ran down her spine. No, she definitely didn’t want that.

Beth had just reached the outer doors of the maintenance building when the sound of running footsteps could be heard from the other side of the campus. Not again, she thought as she jerked the door open. She jogged through the hall, glancing over her shoulder toward the door before she rounded a corner.

"Oof," she grunted when she collided with someone. She screeched and struggled, but the man’s hands just tightened on her arms, ignoring her threats. "Let go," she yelled as he jerked her into a small storage room.

"Calm down, doctor, it’s me."

She looked up and let out a strangled gasp. "Ryan!"

"What’s the matter? You’re as white as a sheet." He frowned. "Where have you been?"

She shook her head and grabbed his hand to try and pull him out of the room. "There’s no time. I’m sure he’s right behind me." There was a firm resistance and she looked back at him, an unreadable emotion darkening his face. "I don’t have time to explain it now. We’ve got the manuscript. Please. Let’s go."

There was a brief hesitation, and then he guided her away from the door. "Where did you last see him?"

"In the mail room in the main office building, but I heard someone running behind me just a few minutes ago."

"I’m still going to check it out. Stay here until I come back."

"But what if he finds me?"

"Shoot him."

"What? I-I can’t do that!"

Ryan looked down at her and sighed. "I’m sorry, but we don’t have any other options. Trust me, doctor. Stay here."

Beth watched the door of the storage room shut and chewed her lip as she closed her eyes. I suppose I should have told him I have claustrophobia. Her hands tightened on the manuscript and she struggled with her concentration, forcing herself to focus on any thought except her location. Not too deep, she cautioned herself when she noticed her breathing wasn’t right. You don’t want to hyperventilate and pass out. What if Mr. Kelsey hadn’t returned and the man found you again? Beth forced the thought out of her mind. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Beth felt something brush against her leg and barely held back a scream. She looked around at her feet and sighed when a well-used mop head slipped the rest of the way to the floor. The room was just too small for comfort. It was barely large enough for Mr. Kelsey to squeeze in... The thought drifted away on the rolls of panic and she shook her head to clear it. It’s bigger than that, Beth, she told herself as her throat tightened.

She gulped for air and her gaze flew from one wall to the other. They’re creeping! I know they are. Her grip tightened on the package as she fought with her sanity. It’s so hard to breathe. But it’s not an airtight room, she reasoned. Her throat constricted tighter and she gasped, her eyes widening. Where is all the air? The sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to keep from staring at the walls as they fell in on her. I’ve got to stop those walls! I need fresh air! Air! She grabbed for the door just as it swung open. The sudden gust of cool air forced her to take deep breaths as she clutched the shirt of the person who had opened the door. It’s over. It’s over, she thought again and again.

"Why don’t you tell me these things?"

Beth gulped in the air like a madman, even when she felt a gentle grip on her arms and heard the soothing voice calling her.

"Doctor? Beth, It’s okay."

She desperately tried to focus on the voice, but her mind was so cloudy and the air tasted so good... All she could think and feel was that she was out. A hand gripped her chin and tilted her head up, but she still couldn’t stop. The walls. The stranger... Where’s the air? I’ve got to get out before I die... Before he finds me! Suddenly there was a firm and gentle pressure on her lips and fire streaked from her head to her toes. Her eyes flew open and she sucked in a breath.

Mr. Kelsey raised his head, his eyes dark. "There you go," he soothed in a strange voice. "You okay now?"

She nodded mutely, standing rooted to the spot as she looked up into his eyes with a hand to her lips. He bent to pick the package up off the floor and then stretched out his hand. She slipped hers into it and followed him as he jogged to the exit into the parking lot. He kissed me. Her mind was stunned. Why? Her brain stuttered and choked, but couldn’t find an answer.

"Why did you do that?" she asked as he helped her up into the Cherokee.

His eyes didn’t meet hers as he set the package in her lap and closed the door. "Buckle in," he told her.

She watched him go around to the driver’s side and silently climb in. "I will, but you haven’t answered my question."

He started the engine and backed it out of the parking lot, still not meeting her eyes as the silence continued. She clicked her buckle into place and turned her head to stare out the window. Her mind was still a little fuzzy, but the spark was vividly burning. Maybe I don’t want to know why he did it? It would probably just complicate things. She nodded to herself and fingered the package as she absently changed her gaze to it. If someone had told her two weeks ago that her love of literature would cause her this much excitement, she would have given them the famous Buchanaan stare and simply walked off.

Nothing’s impossible, I suppose.

"You were in shock," a gentle voice said.

Her head snapped around. "What?"

"The kiss. You were suffering from hyperventilation and shock. I had to do something fast to get your mind off the tiny space and make you stop breathing so hard."

"Why couldn’t you have just slapped me like they show in the movies?"

"You would have had a nasty red print on your face then." He sent her a quick look and turned back to the road. "I like your face the way it is."

She hesitated. What could someone say to that? "Thank you."

He sent her a look. "Did you get a good look at the man’s face?"

"It was dark because I didn’t bother turning on the lights, but I saw enough to make me dangerous, I suppose."

Mr. Kelsey slipped a picture from a folder on the dash and handed it to her. "Is that him?"

"It’s difficult to be positive, but it certainly appears to be. Who is he?"

"He isn’t a friend."

Beth looked over at him and examined his face in silence. She noticed his continual glances in the rearview mirror. "Is he following us?" Mr. Kelsey shook his head and made his way toward the freeway. "Thank God," she sighed. "We both need a breather from all this Sam Spade excitement."

Mr. Kelsey shook his head again.

"What’s the matter?" Beth asked.

"There’s no way he could have lost us. He’s no amateur, Beth. He and I have been chasing each other for years."

"It’s a large campus."

"A thing like that doesn’t make a lot of difference to him. He’s too good to let that stop him from getting what he wants."

Beth looked down at the package again. "I definitely made him look bad then."

He sent her a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he’s not going to be too happy about what happened in the mail room," she said quietly. "We had a bit of a confrontation."

"What?"

"Well, he tried to take the manuscript away and I couldn’t let that happen," she interjected quickly with a look in his direction. "Not after all you’d been through."

"What happened?"

"When he grabbed me and threatened to kill me I went limp as if I had fainted. Then, when he turned his back on me, I hit him with my gun and ran." She shrugged. "Basically, in any case."

Mr. Kelsey threw back his head and laughed. "I would love to have seen his face. Worked over by an amateur," he howled. "What a story for the guys."

I know I’ve seen him somewhere before, she told herself as she watched his face. "Who are you?" she asked suddenly.

He looked at her in shock, his eyes still twinkling. "Ryan Kelsey, remember? You already know that." His green eyes suddenly went dark and he put a hand on her head, his fingers gently feeling her scalp. "You didn’t bump your head, did you?"

"No." Fireworks went off in her blood and she clenched her teeth. "That question didn’t really come out right."

He put his hands back on the wheel. "How was it supposed to come out," he asked in a wary voice.

"Not at all, as a matter of fact."

"Well, now that it did, what’s bothering you about me?"

His voice was more relaxed and Beth began to calm down. "It’s just that you seem so familiar."

He nodded. "Of course I do. This isn’t the first time we’ve met."

"That’s what I keep telling myself," she said as she examined his ruggedly handsome profile. "I simply can’t get any further than that." She paused and then shook her head. "That must be the reason I was so irritating earlier. I knew we’d met before, but I couldn’t place the details."

"Pet peeve?"

"To put it simply."

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Please do."

"Remember the fire?"

"How could I forget? My hands are still tender from that. In fact," she said with a frown, "there was this jerk who handled me none too gently, if I remember correctly. He’s the reason I bashed up my knee and received so many scrapes. If he hadn’t taken hold of my foot, I wouldn’t have fallen--"

"I was trying to keep you from hurting yourself more than you already had," he said quietly.

Beth looked over at him with wide eyes. "You?"

He nodded with a smile. "Yes. I’m the jerk."

She bit her lip with a slight blush. "I meant it in the best possible way," she mumbled.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called worse," he laughed.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"Airport."

"I see." She sent him a glance. "I don’t pretend to be at all well-versed in your work, Mr. Kelsey, but is it wise to drive all the way to the airport when we have a madman trying to kill us? Wouldn’t he then be able to determine where we were taking the manuscript?"

Mr. Kelsey nodded. "You’re right, but I’d already figured pretty much the same thing." He pulled out his cellular phone and pushed a button, then hooked it up to a little speaker he dragged from his backpack. "I’ll call up my contact and let him know the change in plans," he said as the steady hum of the phone’s ringing filled the jeep.

"What’s the change?"

"We’ll go to a different city half-way between Portland and New York and go from there."

"Are you sure you want to put it on speaker phone?"

Their eyes locked and his face was serious. "I can’t do this alone."

"Hello?"

The voice broke their locked gazes and Beth turned to stare out the window.

"Hey, Jefferson, this is Kelsey."

"Kelsey! What the devil is going on out there?"

"Careful. You’re on the speaker and Dr. Buchanaan is all ears."

"I’m sure he’s heard it before," Jefferson said gruffly.

"Yes, but Dr. Buchanaan is a lady."

Silence fell over the line and Beth smiled. "Nice to know you people get your facts straight, Mr. Jefferson. Might I suggest you actually read the file of the person your clients choose to put in jeopardy."

"Jeopardy," he asked with a snap. "What is she talking about, Kelsey? What kind of bull-shit are you putting her through?"

Beth cringed and changed her gaze to the window. She felt Mr. Kelsey’s eyes on her and tried to ignore it.

"I’m perfectly fine, Jefferson. Thanks for caring," Mr. Kelsey said wryly.

Jefferson let out an audible breath. "Sorry, Kelsey. It’s just we have a lot riding on this deal. Both of us. What with your agency scrambling to meet all the demands put on it and my clients wanting to see quicker reactions... But you know all that."

"Yes, I do. That’s why I took charge of this operation personally."

"I thought it was because of Marcus."

Beth looked over at Mr. Kelsey and saw the sudden tenseness of his face. "Who’s Marcus?"

Silence was heard on the other line until she heard a clearing throat. "Marcus Prentiss. An entrepreneur turned arts smuggler for the black market."

"Jefferson, you don’t need to go into it. It’s strictly on a need to know basis."

"Kelsey, you can’t be serious!"

"I’m always serious."

Beth examined Mr. Kelsey’s face, noticed the twitching jaw and clenched knuckles, but decided to press the issue. "I would think that, under the circumstances, I need to know. Don’t you?"

He sent her a dark look and she saw the pain behind it. "I’ll tell you about him later, doctor."

"Kelsey--"

"Jefferson," Ryan interrupted as he broke their locked gazes, "I wanted to let you know that I don’t think it would be the best thing for us to meet in New York."

"Why? What kind of trouble are you causing now?"

"Forget about that for a second, will you? Talk to your clients and see if you can get away long enough to meet us."

"Meet you? Where? If I’m gone too long they’re liable to walk out on us, don’t you realize that? This deal is big, Kelsey."

"I know that. Why don’t you to talk to them?"

"Talking isn’t enough. The pictures won’t even keep them interested anymore. They want the real thing, Kelsey. No substitutions."

"I’ve got it, Jefferson."

"Then why can’t we just meet up at the museum like we originally planned? No more delays or excuses."

"Mr. Jefferson," Beth spoke up suddenly. "Mr. Jefferson, you don’t seem to realize the importance of the situation. Mr. Kelsey knows what he’s doing and you know this. If you didn’t, you and your clients would never have hired his agency in the first place. Let me assure you that he only has your clients’ best interests at heart."

"Dr. Buchanaan--"

"I’m not finished, Mr. Jefferson," Beth said firmly. "I have been through a lot these past couple hours and it has made me realize how much I trust Mr. Kelsey. So, you do your job and let him do his. After all, that’s what you’re paying him for, isn’t it?"

There were a few moments of tense silence, broken only by a question from Mr. Jefferson. "Where did you want to meet?"

Mr. Kelsey smiled and gave her a wink. Beth looked away. She had no earthly idea why she’d slipped into her professor/student role. Didn’t she believe these businessmen could handle things on their own? She vaguely heard them assign the rendezvous point and then Mr. Kelsey terminated the call.

"Thank you, doctor."

"For what? For butting my nose into your problems? For handling a situation you had perfect control of? For ordering your boss around and probably getting you into deep trouble?" Beth shrugged and continued to stare out the window. "If that’s the case, by all means. You’re very welcome. I hope I can be of further assistance later. Perhaps I could let the madman know where we’re headed while I’m at it."

"I mean it," he said with a chuckle. "Jefferson wasn’t going to listen to me, but you put him in his place. Besides, he’s not my boss. I’m my boss. He’s simply the ‘go between’ for my clients and me. He speaks their language, I do their dirty work."

"Sounds glamorous," she mumbled.

"It’s not so bad and it pays the bills."

There was silence and Beth felt his eyes on her after several tense moments. "Yes, Mr. Kelsey?"

"Did you want to know about Marcus Prentiss?"

She turned toward him with a nod. "If he’s the one after me, I want to know who he is."

"Well, like Dennis said--"

"Mr. Jefferson, I assume."

Mr. Kelsey nodded. "Marcus Prentiss was an arts collector of the highest degree." He hesitated. "Maybe ‘collector’ is the wrong word. Yes, he had some fine pieces of his own, but mostly he would purchase pieces on behalf of royalty, nobility, and other fine houses of England, America, and France. We believe he even reached to Spain and some smaller countries as well. He would roam the world, going from show to show bidding on pieces of artwork, antiques, or fine literature for these high-blood houses."

"What changed? It seems as if he had the best job of any of us."

"That’s definitely a true statement. In fact, his services were sought after all over the world. One thing went wrong, though."

Mr. Kelsey looked over at her and Beth thought a moment. "Some of the pieces were paid for, but never made it to the purchaser."

Mr. Kelsey nodded. "Right. Marcus would accept payment for their purchase, but they weren’t ever delivered."

"Black market?"

"Exactly."

"So..." She paused and lightly tapped her lips with her index finger as she frowned in thought. "So he had gone underground, as you might term it. Stealing pieces and artifacts that were on their way to be delivered, then sold them to black market smugglers who, in turn, sold them to the highest bidder."

"I’m impressed. That’s almost exactly right. The only difference being that Marcus somehow got a percentage of the sale from the black market in addition to the money he received from the sale to the original purchaser."

"He must be worth millions."

"Right again."

Beth hesitated. "This ‘connoisseur’ of the arts is the gentleman from the mail-room."

"Yes."

Something in Mr. Kelsey’s voice made Beth examine his face. When he turned his head to glance at her, their eyes locked and Beth’s stomach knotted before she pulled her eyes away and cleared her throat.

Chapter Two \\ Back ~ Next // Chapter Four
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