A Change of Worlds

Book 5 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 19

"What—" Jacy started to whisper.

Shushing him with a finger to my lips, I pressed my ear to the crack of the door, straining to hear what was going on in the house.

"Do you need anything, Virgil?" Mrs. McClain asked.

She sounded so scared I thought for sure her husband would notice and figure out something was wrong.

"Yeah, I need to shit," he said with a laugh. "Don't think you can help me with that."

I pulled away from the door as if it had burned me. Did they have another bathroom? I couldn't take that chance. I pushed Jacy towards the shower and pressed my lips against his ear. "Get in!"

He stared at me in wide-eyed fear as he slipped behind the curtain with me at his heels. I could hear Virgil and his wife right outside the door.

"I was just going to clean the bathroom..." Mrs. McClain was speaking much too loudly. Surely Virgil had to know something was going on.

"For God's sake, Nancy, you can clean it later. I have to go now!"

"Wait! What did those boys want?"

"You know damn well what they wanted. I'm sure you were listening at the door like you always do."

"I do not!"

"Right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take a goddamn shit in peace."

I heard the door swing open and Mrs. McClain gasp. Then the door closed firmly. Virgil was muttering under his breath, something about "crazy woman." There was a rustle of clothes, followed by a sigh as I assumed Virgil settled himself on his throne.

I looked over to Jacy and saw his eyes were still huge, but now two bright red circles had appeared on his cheeks. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow, drawing my attention to the rather stifling heat in the shower stall.

I took a deep breath and held it. I had a feeling I'd need it.

The next fifteen minutes seemed like an eternity. Even after Virgil washed his hands and left the bathroom, we had to wait, huddled in the shower, breathing shallowly through our shirts, until Mrs. McClain came to tell us it was safe to leave.

Once we received the all-clear, we wasted no time in beating a hasty retreat. As soon as we were safely in the car, Jacy burst out laughing.

"What?"

"Man, your job really stinks."

I snickered. "Yeah, it can be pretty shitty sometimes."

He laughed even harder, then gasped, "It really went down the toilet today."

At that we both roared with laughter, releasing all our nervous tension.

"Whew," he said a few minutes later, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes. "Seriously, though, I don't know if I'm cut out for detective work."

I chuckled again, wrapping my arms around my aching stomach. "I don't usually get trapped in bathrooms — especially while they're in use."

"Still, I'm sure other dangerous situations come up all the time, right?"

"I wouldn't say all the time, but I've had my share."

"You're more than welcome to my share too. I'm not exactly a thrill-seeker. I was scared to death back there."

"Hey, I was scared too."

"I wouldn't know what to ask people, either. You always seem to know the right questions."

I shrugged. "Novak taught me how to conduct an interview. That can be learned."

"Are you trying to recruit me as a PI?"

I laughed. "No, I'm only saying it's not always like it was today. Besides, you're the one who insisted on helping me in my investigation."

"You're right." He sighed. "I just seem to have gotten in over my head."

"Well, it actually wasn't such a bad idea."

"Really?"

"Yeah. While I may be able to figure out what kinds of questions to ask, there're a lot of things I don't know concerning this case. It's helpful to have you along."

He smiled. "I'll be more than happy to help you with anything you need, but maybe I'll just sit out the house calls from now on."

"It's a deal," I said with a grin. I thought Fletcher would be happy with that compromise. "Actually, you can start helping right now. What did you think of Mr. McClain's collection?"

"It was impressive, but I'm not an expert on artifacts. My heritage was a complete mystery to me until a few years ago. If the goal was to see if any of the stolen pieces were in his collection, you should have taken one of the archaeologists."

"You may not be an expert, but you know more about this sort of thing than I do, even if it's just from seeing Fletcher's collection. As for the archaeologists, I don't trust any of them enough to bring them into the investigation."

"Not even Elyse?"

"I can't afford to trust anyone involved until I have a better idea of what's going on."

"Do you trust me?"

I glanced over to find him watching me carefully. "Yes, I do. Call it a gut instinct." He smiled. "Now, back to the collection: your impressions?"

He shrugged. "I have no way of even guessing whether any of his pieces came from the excavation on our property, but I'm pretty sure not all of the pieces were found locally."

"What do you mean?"

"When I first moved in with Fletcher, I was fascinated by anything Native. Fletcher has an extensive library, and I read everything I could get my hands on, especially about the Plains tribes. Some of the pieces in McClain's collection reminded me of pictures in the book. There may be something similar around here that I'm not aware of, but I suspect they were Plains artifacts. I don't know how he could have gotten them."

"Mrs. McClain mentioned that he sometimes buys artifacts, remember?"

"Right. That would explain it. He probably didn't even know they weren't local." He shook his head. "Finding them I can understand, but buying them? I wouldn't even know where to go."

An idea occurred to me. "Do you think there's a sort of artifact black market?"

"I have no idea."

"Elyse could probably tell us. We're not far from the college. Let's swing by and see if she's at her office."

"On a weekend?"

"Can't hurt to try."

Of course, Jacy was right, and she wasn't there. I called her cell, but she didn't answer. I left a message on her voicemail asking her to get back to me when she had the chance.

On the way back to the office, I started thinking about the long night ahead of me. I'd successfully distracted myself with work, but once I was alone, I was sure the fact that Micah and I had broken up would hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Hey, you okay?" Jacy asked, bringing me back from my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I replied quickly, if unconvincingly.

Jacy gave me a look that clearly said he didn't buy my assertion. "I can tell something's been bothering you all afternoon. You keep drifting off into your own little world. What's going on?"

I sighed. "My boyfriend and I broke up last night."

Jacy's eyes widened. "Oh! Wow. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pried."

I shrugged. "No, it's okay. The whole thing has just been very confusing."

"What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure I want to talk about it yet."

"That's cool," he said quickly. "I understand completely. If you change your mind, though, I'm here for you."

"Thanks."

The last few minutes of the drive were spent in silence. As I pulled into the small parking lot and stopped beside Jacy's bike, he turned to me. "So, uh, what's next on the agenda?"

"Well, it's a good thing you don't want to accompany me on any more interviews. I need to talk to the council members, and I think it would be better if I did it alone. Other than that, I'm pretty much at a standstill until I hear from either Elyse or Healy's friend Professor Howard."

"Um, I kind of meant what was next on your agenda for tonight."

"Oh. Right." I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. "I don't really have any plans."

"You should come over to our house, have dinner with us. I know Fletcher would love to see you, and it would be a nice distraction for you."

"I couldn't just show up—"

"You're not just showing up. I'm inviting you. If it makes you feel any better, I can call Fletcher and check, but I'm sure it will be fine."

Before I could protest, he pulled out his cell phone. After a brief conversation with Fletcher, he grinned at me. "He said 'absolutely.' He's making plenty of food because Lily and Nikki are coming over for dinner as well."

"I don't want to intrude on your family get-together."

He laughed. "Fletcher predicted you'd say that. I'm to tell you you're not intruding, and he insists you join us."

I laughed. "Well, if he insists..."

"Great!" Jacy grinned as he jumped out of the car and onto his motorcycle. Checking over his shoulder to make sure I was behind him, he revved the bike to life, and it leaped into motion.

When we reached Fletcher's house, Lily's car was already in the driveway. We found Fletcher in the kitchen chopping something on the counter — I couldn't see what, since his body blocked my view — while Lily was stirring a pot on the stove.

Nikki sat at the table, chin propped in her hand as she watched the other two. Her face lit up when she saw us. "Hey, boys!"

Fletcher and Lily turned to greet us, Fletcher holding a large knife in his hand.

"What's for dinner," Jacy asked as he sniffed the air.

"Baked rockfish," Fletcher told him.

"With brandied rice and a wild-greens salad," Lily added.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Jacy asked.

"You can join Nikki at the table and stay out of the way." Fletcher winked before turning back to the counter.

I could finally see that he was preparing a large, whole, silver fish. He had it sliced open and was performing some sort of surgery on it.

"There's no point arguing." Nikki grinned and kicked a chair out from the table. "They won't let me help either, so you might as well take a seat."

"Thank you so much for having me over for dinner," I said. "Are you sure there's enough? I hate to intrude."

Fletcher turned and glared at his grandson.

"Hey, don't look at me," Jacy protested. "I told him he wasn't intruding."

Fletcher rolled his eyes. "You're welcome in our home, Killian. We're happy to have you. Don't worry. This fish is plenty big enough to feed all of us."

"I don't think I've ever had rockfish."

He smiled. "Not like this, anyway. I'm going to cook it outside on a fire, much the same way our ancestors probably did."

"Shouldn't you be cutting it up with a flint knife then?" I asked with a grin.

He laughed. "I'm not so foolish as to give up all my modern conveniences. Why don't you and Jacy fill me in on your investigation?"

Jacy caught my eye and shook his head slightly. He didn't want Fletcher to know about our close call. I nodded and launched into a brief summary of the case so far, leaving out the part where Mr. McClain almost caught us in his shower, and concluding with my thoughts about a black market for artifacts.

When I finished, Fletcher paused in his preparations and turned to face me with a thoughtful expression. "I haven't heard of any artifact black market, but then, I wouldn't. Are you aware of anything like that, Lily?"

She looked up. "Not really. The closest thing I know of would be that antique store out on Route 50. I went in there once and was appalled to see all the artifacts they were selling."

"Were any of them local?" I asked.

"I couldn't say, but I wouldn't be surprised. The place struck me as kind of shady. They're probably still open if you want to run by there now and check it out for yourself. Dinner will still be a while yet."

I looked at Jacy, who shook his head. "Help yourself, but like I said, I'm strictly a reference source from now on."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "This isn't an interview. I just want to check out the store."

Fletcher glanced over his shoulder at me. "What's this about?"

"Jacy decided he'd rather take a more passive role in my investigation." Fletcher nodded with satisfaction. "Which is fine, but I could use his help in checking out the antique store. He'll know a little better what we're looking at."

"Okay, I'll go," Jacy said quickly.

I got the impression he was more eager to end the conversation than to actually join me. Our experience at the McClain's had soured him quite thoroughly on playing detective.

Fletcher consulted the clock. "Just be back in about an hour."

After we got directions from Lily, Jacy suggested we take his bike. While I'd had to turn him down when he offered before, I eagerly agreed this time.

He retrieved his extra helmet and helped me fasten it on. "Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"Nope. Is there anything I should know?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Hold on tight."

He swung his leg over the bike and stood straddling it, then patted the seat behind him. "Hop on."

Now that the moment of truth had arrived, I was a little more nervous than I had expected. I climbed clumsily onto the bike and settled behind Jacy, placing my hands on his hips.

"Uh-uh. That's not gonna do it. Hold on really tight."

I gripped the fabric of his shirt, but he just laughed. "Like this." He took my wrists and pulled my arms around his waist, bringing my chest up against his back.

A confusing wave of emotion washed over me: pleasure at the closeness of his body, guilt over Micah, and uncertainty about Asher.

"Now hang on," Jacy said. "And when I lean into turns, lean with me, but not too far. Just move with my body."

I was very glad he couldn't see my face, since judging by how hot it felt at that moment, I was sure it was a brilliant scarlet.

The bike came snarling to life, causing me to reflexively tighten my grip.

"Not too tight. I still have to breathe," he yelled over the roar of the motor.

I loosened my hold, and suddenly we were moving.

For the first few minutes, I was too busy fearing for my life to enjoy the ride. Once I began to relax a little, however, I started to notice that it actually wasn't so bad. In fact, the sensation of flying through the wind was exhilarating. Before long, I'd completely given in to the experience and loved every minute of it.

We passed our destination before we realized it and had to turn around. The store was a plain cinderblock cube set back a bit from the highway. It looked as if it had once been a gas station or garage whose bay doors had been bricked over to convert the building into a rather dreary retail space. A small sign sitting out by the road read, "Antiques ~ Books ~ Indian Artifacts."

When Jacy turned off the bike, the sudden silence seemed to ring in my ears. As he helped me off the bike, he asked, "So what did you think?"

"It was incredible!" I gushed. "I was sorry it had to end."

He grinned. "There's still the ride back, and I'll take you out any time you want." He looked around the deserted parking lot. "Do you think they're open?"

"The neon sign in the window says they are. Let's go check it out."

Inside, the first thing I noticed was the musty smell of old books. As my eyes adjusted to the dim interior lighting, I saw row after row of closely set shelves running the entire length of the building. A narrow aisle down the center led to an open doorway in the rear, above which a hand-lettered sign proclaimed that there were "More antiques in the back." A dusty, cluttered counter was to our immediate right, but there was no one in attendance.

"It looks abandoned," Jacy whispered.

I was about to holler out a "hello" when a man stepped out of the back room. He was tall and broad, his skin the color of dark, polished mahogany, his close-cropped hair starting to go salt-and-pepper on the sides. He looked us over suspiciously, leading me to suppose we weren't his usual clientele.

"What can I do for you boys?" he asked.

"We'd just like to look around, if that's okay," I said.

He nodded. "Let me know if you need help with anything."

We started making our way up and down the aisles, moving fairly quickly since what we were searching for clearly wasn't to be found there. Although the shelves mostly held books, scattered about here and there were a few small antiques and collectibles. A fine layer of dust coated everything. Obviously, cleanliness was not next to godliness in that establishment.

We finally worked our way to the back room. The guy I assumed to be the shop owner was repairing an old chest of drawers and didn't even look up from his work when we entered. The room held a motley assortment of furniture and larger items, most of which had seen better days, but no artifacts.

Another hand-lettered sign pointed us toward a door leading into yet another room, where we finally found what we were looking for. A glass jewelry counter ran down the left side of the room, a tall display case stood against one wall, and several smaller cases hung on the other. All held Native American artifacts — probably more than Mr. Thompson's and Mr. McClain's collections combined. It looked like a museum, except everything had a price.

"You boys interested in Indian stuff?" the owner asked suddenly. I hadn't even realized he'd followed us into the room.

"You might say that," Jacy replied in a soft voice.

"You have a lot of artifacts," I commented casually.

The man smiled proudly. "I'm the biggest dealer in this area."

"Where do you get all these artifacts?"

His smile tightened slightly. "Here and there."

"I mean, I've never seen so many, and I've seen some nice collections. Do collectors sometimes sell their artifacts?"

The last of his smile faded away, and he just looked at me.

"My mom told me I'm part Native American," Jacy announced suddenly, drawing the man's attention away from me.

"Really?" he asked without interest.

"Yeah, so that's why I'm here. Someone told us you sold stuff like this."

"You'd like to start a collection?"

"Yeah, as long as they're local."

"I have artifacts from all over the country, but most of my pieces are from around here. How much are you looking to spend?"

Jacy shrugged. "That's not really an issue."

I was impressed. For someone who not so long ago was saying he could never be an investigator, Jacy sure was doing a great job of thinking on his feet. He was making a lot more progress than I'd managed with my more direct approach. I knew when to shut up and fade into the background.

"In that case, let me show you some things. We'll start with the more inexpensive items and work our way up."

"That sounds good."

The dealer unlocked the jewelry case and pulled out a tray of loose arrowheads that he laid on the counter. "These are just some miscellaneous points. All are authentic and local. They're two bucks apiece."

Jacy shook his head. "I'm looking for something more...special."

The man nodded and put the tray away. He pulled out another tray of arrowheads, these lined up neatly on foam rubber. They were of noticeably better quality than the first batch, even to my untrained eye.

"These are individually priced, ranging from five dollars up to around twenty-five."

Jacy took his time examining the selection, then finally shook his head. "Do you have anything cooler? I've seen stuff like this before. I'd like something rare, something really unusual."

The owner put away the tray and carefully locked the counter, then opened the large case against the wall. "I have some stone tools and other artifacts in here." He began pointing them out. "This is an archaic axe. Notice the full groove. It's a nice piece. This is a celt, which is essentially an axe without a groove. These are a mortar and pestle, used to grind up corn and grain."

"Is this all you have?" Jacy interrupted.

The man stopped and frowned at him. "Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Not really. I'll know it when I see it, but I haven't seen it yet. Like I said, the rarer the better."

"I don't keep my rare pieces just lying around."

"Can I see them?"

The man shook his head. "Not right now. I'm about to close up for the night, and I have an appointment I can't miss. If you're really interested, come back one day next week and I'll show you some things you might be interested in."

"I can come any day. When would be best for you?"

The man looked at him thoughtfully and rubbed his chin. "Let's say Tuesday afternoon."

"Great," Jacy assured him with a dazzling smile. "I'll see you Tuesday afternoon. Thanks for your help."

"My pleasure," he said, although no signs of pleasure were evident in his expression as he watched us go.

"What do you think?" Jacy asked when we were outside.

"I think you'd make a damn good PI."

He rolled his eyes with a snort. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. That was an impressive bit of detective work there."

"I just saw you weren't getting very far with your questions, so I thought I'd better come up with something fast."

"And you did. Seriously, Jacy, it was incredible how you handled that."

He flushed with pride. "Well, thanks." He handed me my helmet and started strapping his on. "Do you think he'll have anything from the excavation?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if we'd recognize it if he did. I need to try to get in touch with Elyse again. Maybe she can tell us what to look for."

I scrambled onto the bike after Jacy, wondering how many times I'd have to do it before I acquired his grace. I suspected I never would. You had to be born with it.

This time, he didn't have to instruct me on how to ride. I slid my arms around his waist and held on for the ride.

I could get used to this, I thought idly as we rode towards Fletcher's.

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