Page 9 of The Mouse and the Maestro

“Can you carbon date it?” Blue asked. They looked at him as if he’d just asked to be tickled by caterpillars.

“It’s stone,” Jane said.

“Please don’t make me admit I have no idea the significance of that,” Blue said.

“You can’t carbon date stone, only things that were once alive. But that brings up an interesting point—a forger would definitely know that and choose stone for that purpose,” Jane said. She returned her attention full time to examining the jar, and Blue knew he was dismissed. He returned to his comfort zone, the virtual world.

Many, many hours later, after a scanty lunch of rabbit food, Jane was finished. She removed her gloves and set them aside.

“Charles, I believe it’s a fake,” she said quietly, sadly.

“No,” Charles said, his knees almost giving way.

To Blue it was merely a jar, but he could guess the implications went much deeper for a couple of museum geeks whose livelihood depended on authenticity. “Why do you think so?” Charles asked.

Jane reached for a laptop and turned it to face him. “Here, this spot from the electron microscope. It captured a brush stroke.” Blue came to stand over her shoulder. After so many hours, it was kind of exciting to hear the result.

“Where?” he asked. He saw nothing out of the ordinary in the ultra-magnified picture.

“Here.” She picked up a pen and touched the tip to the screen. He hunched closer, squinting. Doing so brought him in direct contact with her body. She did the jumping and flinching thing, and he bit down on his frustration.

“Hmm,” he said, easing away from her. Even here, in her comfort zone, she couldn’t warm up to him.

“Also there’s the lid. The fit it’s…not right.”

“I have to admit that caused me a bit of concern, too, but I so badly wanted this to be legit,” Charles said. He scrubbed his hand over his face looking sad and defeated.

“I’m sorry,” Jane said, resting her hand on his arm.

He pulled her close and hugged her. “I know, it stinks for all of us.”

Blue watched her to see how she’d react to him, but she was all-in on the hug, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her ear to his heart. Charles Stevens had no tattoos, of course. “It was an amazing forgery, possibly the best I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. “I know it’s bad timing, but do you think you can get me in to New York? I don’t have a connection there.”

“I’ll make some calls and let you know,” he promised. He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for trying to let me down easy.”

“I wish I had better news,” she said. She gave him a final squeeze and stepped out of his embrace.

Chapter 6

“You’re not a vegetarian are you?” Blue asked as soon as they were back in the car.

“No, why?”

“How do you feel about grabbing a cheesesteak before we head back to DC?” he asked. He hadn’t had one since the last time he was home, and his craving could no longer be denied, especially after such a light lunch.

“That’s fine, whatever you’d like,” she said. She sounded tired. He should probably hustle her straight home, but they had to eat. It might as well be delicious.

He took her to his favorite place, well off the beaten tourist track. “Can you do me a favor?” she said.

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone wary.

“Can you order for me? I’m going to run to the restroom.”

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Whatever you’re having will be fine,” she said.

After she escaped to the bathroom, he remembered that she also went right before they left the museum. Either she had a tiny, nervous bladder or she was faking.

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