Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dave was watching TV in the living room when Oliver got home.
By the time he’d paused the show, Oliver had already dropped his bag in the middle of the floor and hurried down the hall.
The bathroom door closed, and Dave started his show again.
Oliver must have needed to go pretty bad.
When the shower started up, he second guessed himself.
The shower went on much longer than usual.
Dave turned off the TV and got up. He picked up the bag and set it on a kitchen chair.
He opened a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, grabbed two glasses, and gave them each a heavy pour.
When Oliver finally emerged in a cloud of steam, his hair wet and face red, he smiled at the glass waiting for him on the table.
“Did you just split the bottle between us?”
“Not entirely. Seemed like maybe you could use it.”
Oliver dropped onto the couch beside him. He put his head back and closed his eyes. “Fuck.”
“I take it things didn’t go as you’d hoped? Was there even a mummy?”
“Oh, there was a mummy.” Oliver gulped wine. “All wrapped up tight and creepy.” He shuddered slightly and rubbed his right hand up and down the leg of his shorts.
“Okay, you’ve gotta tell me what happened.”
As Oliver related the events of the evening, Dave’s eyes grew steadily wider. Once he’d finished, Dave scooted up close and gathered him against his side.
“I’m sorry, babe. About all of it. You were excited to get video, and you couldn’t do that. You got sprayed by some ancient bag of dust. And you accidentally touched the mummy.”
Oliver shuddered against him. “I touched the mummy.”
After a brief hesitation, Dave had to ask. “What did it feel like?”
Another shudder. “The bandage was gritty and kind of stiff. Like really dirty laundry, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. With five brothers, four of us who played football, I absolutely know.”
Oliver looked up at him. “Who didn’t play…” Understanding hit, and he nodded. “Grant.”
Dave chuckled. “You got it.”
“That tracks.” Oliver snuggled in close again. “The worst part was feeling the bone underneath.”
“Oh, babe…”
“I know.”
Dave tightened his arm, and they sat in silence together for a while. Oliver was the first to yawn, but he caught it right after.
“Ready for bed?” Dave asked.
“Carry me?”
“We’ve both had too much wine to try that. Come on.”
Dave stood and tugged Oliver up from the couch.
“Sure you want to sleep with me?” Oliver said as they shuffled down the hall. “I may be infected by mummy dust and turn into a zombie during the night.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“You’re either brave or foolish.”
Dave gripped his shoulders and gave him a quick massage. “If you do turn into a zombie, I want to be one too so we can stay together.”
Oliver sat on the edge of the bed. Lamplight shone in his eyes. “You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”
Dave got into bed beside him. “Sleep well.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Minutes later, they both were asleep.
The next morning, Oliver was up before Dave and making scrambled eggs. After a good morning kiss, he held his arms out to the side and said, “Still human.”
“I’m so glad. I really don’t like rare meats.”
Oliver laughed easily. Dave’s body responded in kind, and they enjoyed a comfortable breakfast together before Oliver left to go to class. Dave logged into work and, after a couple of meetings and sorting through a problematic formula in Excel, sent him a text.
10 days. I love you!
His phone buzzed in his hand with a call from Cody. A call instead of a text usually equaled trouble.
Dave answered. “Are you in jail?”
“Why does everyone say that when I call?”
“Because you usually want something.”
“That’s not true. I called you plenty of times before you moved back.”
Dave had to give him that one. “Okay, fine. You got me. What’s up?”
“I’m in jail.”
“What?” Dave practically shouted.
Cody laughed. Dave cursed him out.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But you deserved that.”
“No, I didn’t. Especially not a week before my wedding.”
“It’s ten days.”
“Is there something you need? Other than a smack on the back of your head?”
“I’m trying to get a head count for your bachelor party.”
“Yes, include Oliver.”
Cody released the longest, most dramatic sigh Dave had ever heard. “Oh my God. Your precious fiancé is on the guest list, okay? You got your wish.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve also got Demmy and Jugs. Do you want me to invite anyone else?”
“When are Mom, Dad, and Grant coming in?” Dave asked.
“Not until the day before the wedding. And you’re welcome for that.”
“Thank you. Are they staying with you?”
“Actually, you can thank me for this, too. I talked them all into getting an Airbnb— Mom, Dad, Grant, Brady, and Roman.”
“Their families aren’t coming?”
“No. I guess since I had the first gay wedding in the family, they’ve decided it’s not as special anymore and you’re only getting your brothers.”
“They were all just in town a few months ago for grandma’s funeral,” Dave said. “They’re probably saving up airline miles for family vacations.”
“If that makes you sleep better at night, that’s cool. I still think me breaking the mold has something to do with it.”
“I’m sure it does, big brother.”
“That sounded suspiciously placating.”
“Did it?”
“Look, I called you in an official best man capacity, and you’re acting all jerky and stuff.”
Dave snorted. “Jerky and stuff?”
“Shut up. Hey, I just walked into Margie’s and there are a bunch of kids here.”
“Kind of early for lunch, isn’t it?”
“It’s never too early for lunch. Besides, Jugs and I just finished hauling a…” Cody paused before saying, “Gosh darn boa constrictor out from under someone’s shed.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You hate snakes.”
“Nice of you to remember.”
“Well, as your favorite brother, it’s kind of my job. Are you eating alone?”
“I am. Why? Did you let Ollie crawl out from under your desk and stop gobbling your knob?”
“I take it the kids have left?”
“You take it correctly. Should I order you something?”
“Yeah, a hot roast beef sandwich on sourdough with muenster cheese and a cup of lemon rice soup.”
“One vegetarian special, coming right up.”
“You’re not funny.”
“Oh, but I am. Drive fast, I’m bored.”
The call ended. Dave snickered as he got up and left his home office.
Oliver sat in the student union before class, waiting for Robin to show up with their usual two lattes.
Glancing out the window, he saw Dr. Brennan walking fast across the quad toward the doors to the union.
Two police officers trailed behind her, trying to keep up.
These weren’t campus security, they were actual Glenmont PD.
Dr. Brennan yanked open the door and strode inside. Students hustled to get out of her way, moving even faster when they saw the officers behind her. Brennan stood, fists on hips, slowly turning her head to scan the room. When her eyes landed on Oliver, she jabbed a finger at him.
“There he is!”
Chair legs scraped on tile as students around him retreated. Phones came up to record everything. Oliver laid his hands in full view on the table, palms down. His heart pounded. Sweat coated his body.
“Mr. Berridge?” The officer was a woman, and her name badge read P. Keaton.
“Yes.”
“Were you with Dr. Brennan and her team last night in the Earth Sciences building?”
“Where is it?” Dr. Brennan demanded. She’d come up behind them, peering over the female officer’s shoulder.
“Where’s what?” Oliver said, shaking his head.
“Where did you take it?” Dr. Brennan snapped.
“Ma’am, please let us handle this,” said the male officer. He’d turned sideways to keep an eye on both of them, and Oliver couldn’t see his name tag.
“Take what?” Oliver’s thoughts were a jumble. “What are you talking about?”
Then he remembered touching the mummy. The cloth stiff under his fingertips. Hard press of bone beneath the bandages. Had his touch disrupted whatever preservation techniques had kept Amenmose intact for all these years? Had the body disintegrated simply because he’d touched it?
“Amenmose!” The word echoed around the high-ceiled space. “He’s gone, and you and Robin were the only outsiders. Where is he?”
“Ma’am, please.” Keaton’s voice was louder and firmer. “Step back and quiet down.”
Dr. Brennan retreated slightly, her lips pressed tight and her chest heaving. Her eyes bored into Oliver.
“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” Oliver’s voice shook slightly. “Robin and I left a short time after the coffin had been opened. I drove them back to their sister’s house in Thorndale and then I went home.”
“Where’s home?” The man faced him now and Oliver saw his name tag: E. Montroig.
“Parson’s Hollow.”
“Oh, yeah?” Officer Montroig smiled. “You know Deputy Lucia Durant?”
Oliver blinked. What was going on? “Um, yeah. Pretty well, actually.”
“Troublemaker.” Dr. Brennan snarled and pointed at him again. “He admits it. He’s probably got numerous offenses against him.”
“What? No, I don’t!”
Keaton faced Dr. Brennan. “All right, that’s enough, Dr. Brennan.”
“How about you come down to the station with us, and we can sort it all out,” Montroig said.
“I’m missing class right now,” Oliver said, but it was a weak protest.
“We’ll write you a note,” Keaton said over her shoulder. “Come on. We’ve got Robin Moreau at the station already.”
Oliver’s gut clenched. Robin was being questioned too?
He stood and grabbed his messenger bag. Face burning, he avoided making eye contact with anyone in the crowd as he followed the officers outside.
As they crossed the quad, more people stopped to stare, phones up and recording.
Montroig waved for him to get into the back of a patrol car.
It smelled like old farts and some kind of spicy roast beef.
Dr. Brennan got into the back of Keaton’s patrol car, and he hoped it smelled even worse.
As Montroig pulled out of the parking lot, Oliver clutched his bag to his chest and tried to slow his pounding heart.
What the hell was he being accused of? Stealing a mummy?
That was crazy. Where would he even store a mummy?