with my only options flight or fight...
Clare
My early morning meeting with Tess raised even more questions about the past―either mine or Paul Thickett's―I couldn't be sure, but I knew Nat Cohen, my local antiquarian and trivia master, might be able to uncover some answers.
I dropped by the library and found him hard at work on a ladder re-arranging the top shelf of the local history section.
"How would you like to do some actual research of local history for me?" I called up to him.
He came down the ladder within seconds.
"Hey, Marcus! Another project for me?"
"You'll like this one, Nat, because I'll treat you to dinner anywhere in town you choose."
"Whoa! It must be really important."
"It is to me, but it will be difficult because it involves ordinary locals and there may not be much in way of records about them."
"I do like a challenge," he smiled, "and you know I like to eat."
I clapped him affectionately on the shoulder, "Yes, I do know you enjoy fine dining, my friend."
"Just give me their names and I'll try to find some time today to check them out."
I handed him a slip of paper with Tess and Paul's names and as much information as I knew.
"Don't worry, Pal," he reassured me. "if these two have roots in the town I'll be able to trace some of their lineage."
I was heading back to my SUV when my cell rang. It was Clare.
"Good morning, Marcus, I hope it's not too early to call."
I glanced at my watch―it was half-past ten.
"Hi Clare―not early at all, I've been out seeing a friend downtown."
"I'm actually outside your house right now. I was hoping we could talk."
"I'm only five minutes away, " I told her, "the door's open and the coffee's still warm. Make yourself at home."
A burst of joy flooded my soul when I heard her voice and couldn't wait to see her again.
I had so many things I wanted to ask her but didn't want to overpower her with a deluge of questions.
I was just happy she felt comfortable in seeking me out.
A few minutes later I pulled into my driveway and recognized Clay Lightbourne's black BMW.
Clare was sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee and gazing at the flyer for Afterlife Antiques that I left on the table.
"This girl looks familiar―is she the owner?" she asked.
"Yes, that's Tess Woods," I replied.
"It was another girl who served me the day I purchased Lillian's ring."
"That was Cindy, her helper."
"I see," she whispered, and for a moment I felt guilty as if I betrayed her in some way.
"I wanted to continue our talk from last night, Marcus, without my parents' hovering in the background. Is that all right with you?"
"Of course. I don't blame you for feeling vulnerable. I feel the same way too."
"I must look a mess," she said, pushing back a stay wisp of hair from her forehead. " I'm afraid I didn't get much sleep last night―I kept going over and over things we said."
I looked at her lovely face and its soft pink glow and couldn't imagine her being any more beautiful than she looked right now.
"I should look so good when I miss a night's sleep, I laughed.
She flushed and her shyness was so adorable I wanted to hold her in my arms.
"Do you know all the time I was comatose I was living another life?"
I looked at her helplessly, feeling tongue-tied. "I had no idea."
"It felt like dream, akin to being in another world and yet it seemed so real."
"And I was there as well, not as Marcus, but as Paul?"
She nodded and a tear rolled down her cheek. "That's why awakening was so hard. I was torn―overjoyed to be back and see my parents but sad at thinking I lost you in the process."
I wanted to reach out and comfort her but was interrupted by the whirring sound of the antique door bell.
Through the frosted glass, I saw the unmistakable profile of Arthur Reid standing on the porch.
Damn! This was the worst possible time to have to deal with Arthur's sinister duplicity.
I had no desire to challenge Arthur's murky legal maneuverings or for Clare to witness the showdown.
In the space of a few seconds I had gone from consolation to the prospect of a bitter confrontation.