Chapter 17
Farnsworth
Across the street from the gallery is a diner where Borja and I have been for several hours, waiting for the day to start. The gallery doesn’t open until ten, so after the sun to rose, we came here to have breakfast and coffee.
The patrons are an interesting mix of people dressed in smart business clothes and others in much more casual wear. Borja explained that this area is part of a renovation and that’s why there are so many construction workers.
I sip my coffee, aware of how enjoyable it is and how it gives me just a hint of my former life. I lived a nice enough existence, my father was affluent and therefore we could afford some of the luxuries of life, but I don’t recall food and beverages being as flavorful as they are now.
“We should probably get a plan together for what we’re going to say if we find Michael.”
I glance up, watching Borja finish his pancakes. “Yes, of course. We’ll need to carefully figure out what he already knows or believes. If we start talking about haunted objects right away, he might have an unpleasant reaction.”
“I would.” He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Did you like your food?”
I glance down at my plate, mostly empty now. I ordered an omelet and toast and found them both to be delightful. “Yes. Though I will say I’m awfully full. I don’t remember the last time I ate so much.”
“Down in the Revival House, you don’t need to eat or drink?”
“No. My body slows itself down there and doesn’t require the same sustenance. I don’t need to sleep much either. I do enjoy a nice cup of tea though, when I’m reading.”
“I don’t think I’d like that. I enjoy food. Finding new restaurants or dishes to explore is fun.”
“I see the allure.” I glance out the window. “There’s a lot to enjoy up here.”
“There is.” Borja looks out the window too. “So, Michael. I was thinking we could tell him we’re doing a documentary about the hotel and the brooch and wanted to see if he could talk to us about the rumors surrounding his family.”
“Very good. I think that’s a fine way to start out. We’ll know how receptive he is at that point.”
“Can I get you gentlemen anything else?” Our waiter appears at our table. He’s a young man, possibly in his twenties, though I’m not very good at detecting ages, with messy brown hair and crystal blue eyes. His attention is completely focused on me.
“No, I think that’s all,” I reply. “The check would be fine.”
“Sure thing.” He lingers, glancing at Borja before returning his gaze to me. “Are you a couple? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Borja turns to the waiter now. “What?”
“I was asking if you’re a couple, because if you’re not…” He slides a slip of paper toward me. “Or if you are and you’re open or ENM, I’m down.”
He walks away before either of us can answer. I take the slip of paper and see it has a phone number scrawled across it with the name Leo written at the top.
“What just happened?”
Borja chuckles. “He wants to hook up with you, Farns.”
I blink rapidly, trying to process that information. “What? How did you get that from that interaction?”
“He gave you his phone number, asked if we’re a couple or if we’re open to extra partners. It wasn’t exactly subtle.”
“What did ENM mean?”
“Ethical non-monogamy. Another term for polyamory.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“Uh, well, it basically means you can be in a relationship but still open to new relationships or sexual partners. It’s not cheating because all partners are aware and consenting.”
“People do that?”
“Yep. I wouldn’t say it’s mainstream, but it’s more common than most people think.
I tried it once. I went on a few dates with someone who was poly, and it was cool, but when he introduced me to his primary partner and their girlfriend, it got a little uncomfortable.
I just got a vibe that his partner didn’t like me and there would be tension if things continued.
He assured me it was fine, and if there had been a stronger connection between us I might have continued it, but it just sort of fizzled out. ”
I nod, taking that all in as I imagine it. “So, you could have a boyfriend and another boyfriend at the same time?”
“Yes. Or a husband and a boyfriend. Or, if you swing differently, a wife and a boyfriend.”
“And it’s legal?”
Borja chuckles. “It’s legal.”
“Fascinating.”
“Look.” Borja points out the window as a black car pulls up across the street in front of the gallery.
A man dressed in an unusual flowing black outfit steps out and walks to the door, then opens it with a set of keys.
“Want to bet that’s Michael Wolcott?” Borja says.
“It very well could be.”
Leo, our waiter, returns and sets the check down.
I glance up at him and he winks before walking away again.
I shake my head, truly confused about what a young man like him could see in me, but at the same time, it’s strangely pleasant.
First a beautiful man like Borja, and now this. Wonders never cease.
“If you want to call him, I won’t stand in your way,” Borja says.
“What?”
“The waiter. If you want to call him and try a hookup.”
I pull my head back. “Gods, no. Firstly, I’m here on a mission, and secondly, well, he’s a stranger.”
“You only live once.” He laughs. “I guess that’s not true, is it?”
“No. I’m not interested in that, but thank you for your benevolent permission.”
Borja raises an eyebrow. “Hey now, spicy kitten. I was just making sure it wasn’t weird for you.”
“Spicy kitten?”
“Calling it like I see it.” He winks, which immediately defuses my annoyance. He takes the bill and digs some money out of his wallet. “This is enough to cover the tip too. Ready to go?”
I nod, sliding out of the booth. “Ready.”
Just before we exit the restaurant, Leo waves and mouths the words, Call me. I’m still confused by his interest in me.
“I have a question, Borja.”
“Hit me.”
“Leo seems young to me, yes?”
“Yeah. Midtwenties, I’d guess.”
“Right. So how could he look at an old man like me?”
Borja’s brow crinkles as he turns to face me. “Old man? Dude, you realize you don’t look a day over thirty, if that, right?”
Huh?
“You might be old in years, but your face is young. Sure, your vintage style adds a maturity to your look, but on the outside you’re young. You’re also totally gorgeous, if you forgot.”
“I don’t feel young. I suppose I have forgotten how I look on the outside.”
“Clearly.” He steps closer, resting his hand on my waist. “Listen to me, Farns, you’re a looker. Leo won’t be the last guy who tries to catch your eye.”
“Well that’s very flattering.”
He moves closer, obviously giving me an opportunity to stop him if I want to, but I don’t want to. I want his lips on mine, and the thrill of doing it so publicly isn’t lost on me either.
The kiss is brief, simmering with heat and the promise of more later, but the warmth spreading through me is enough to trigger a desire for so much more. Could I really do the things he suggested we do? What would it feel like to be with a man that way? Could I put him in my mouth?
My breath catches at the thought and Borja smiles. “You okay?”
I nod, smiling back. “Yes, just thinking of… later. Perhaps.”
“Duty first, pleasure later?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
We cross the street to the gallery and step inside. It’s a sterile space, with white walls and marble floors, sporadic artwork and a few sculptures. It’s dimly lit, but I suppose that’s because it’s not fully open yet.
The man we saw earlier comes out from behind a wall carrying a large canvas, and pauses when he sees us.
“Can I help you?”
Borja jumps right in. “We’re looking for Michael Wolcott.”
“That’s me. The gallery isn’t quite open yet, but if you’re interested in a certain piece, I’d be happy to show it to you.”
“No, actually, we’re…” He glances at me. “We’re independent filmmakers and we’re researching the history of the Samuel Brent Hotel, and specifically the hummingbird brooch. Our research led us here. Do you have a minute to talk about it?”
Michael sets the canvas against a wall and hurries toward us. He’s older, I’d say in his sixties, with salt and pepper hair that touches his shoulders, squinty dark eyes, and ruddy cheeks, but a pleasant demeanor over all.
“What about that damn brooch? It’s not here, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” I answer. “That’s a strong reaction.”
“That thing is cursed I tell you. It’s haunted my family for generations, and if I ever get my hands on it again, I’ll melt it down and sell it for scrap.”
“Haunted in the literal sense?” Borja asks.
Michael looks wary but he nods, folding his arms across his chest. “I know it sounds insane, but yes, in the literal sense. Years ago, long before I was born, my family went to great lengths to keep it under wraps, locked away where it couldn’t do any damage, but then a distant relative, not knowing any better, tried to sell it.
” He leans against a chair. “Allegedly, the two people he sold it to returned it within twenty-four hours.”
Borja glances at me, then back to Michael. “Do you know how it was eventually returned to the hotel?”
“Yep. My Great-Aunt Patricia returned it. She decided it was too much trouble for us.”
I’m not sure this history is helping us.
“I suppose you want to know about the locket then?” Michael asks.
“The locket?” I step forward. “Yes, tell us about it.”
He gestures for us to follow him across the gallery into a smaller room. Inside a glass case is a small gold locket. “This belonged to my great-great-grandmother, mother to John Henry Wolcott, who is pictured inside of it.”
Michael pulls out a set of keys and opens the case, delicately lifts the necklace, and hands it to me. I immediately sense the Horror contained inside it.
“Can we borrow this?” I ask. “I assure you we’ll return it to you unharmed.”
Michael twists his lips as he studies me and Borja. “You’re not doing a documentary, are you?”
“I, um, we—”
He lifts his hand, cutting me off. “I can sense things, and I’m definitely getting some feelings about you two. You especially,” he says, pointing to me. “You know about these objects, don’t you?”
I see no point in lying at this stage. “Yes. Something is attached to objects that are connected to John Henry Wolcott. We need to find all the pieces and put them together to banish the spirit for good.”
I’ve never told a mortal about the world beyond the veil, so I’m not sure what kind of reaction I’ll get, but an understanding nod isn’t what I expected.
“When the locket is close to the brooch, things happen. It’s why my great-aunt returned the brooch to the hotel but kept the locket. I’ve been tasked as its keeper, but if you can fix it, I’ll more than happily hand it over to you.”
Borja smiles. “Awesome. We’re close to resolving this, we think. Hopefully, this is the last missing piece.”
“Unless you know of any more haunted heirlooms in your family.”
Michael smiles. “No. That’s the last of it. There were some letters, but those were destroyed in a house fire years ago. It’s weird, because nothing happened for years with the objects until there was an estate sale and some of the items were sold. It’s almost like something awakened them.”
“Something for us to consider, certainly.”
Borja nods. “Definitely. We’ll return it as soon as it’s all clear.”
I dig in my pocket and produce a card. “If you have a pen, we can give you a phone number to reach us.”
Michael pulls one from his pocket and hands it to Borja, who jots down his name and number on the card.
“Thank you. You’re helping us a lot, Michael.”
“If you can do what you say you can, you’re helping me.”
We take our leave, locket in hand, and walk back to the train station.
“What do we do next?” Borja asks.
“We put all the items together and see if anything happens. If it doesn’t, we’ll know we have more searching to do, but if it does, well, we have a Horror to banish.”