“You were messing with the radio?”
“Of course I was. I don’t like to drive without having the radio on, especially with an unconscious body in the back. You might be used to that sort of thing, but I ain’t.” His tone sounded half-humorous and half-irritated. It was the way Charlie almost always sounded.
“I’m not pointing fingers, Charlie. But if he got out of the trunk, there would have been a light or something like that.”
Sean stepped around to the front of the car and leaned in the driver’s side door. Sure enough, a small illuminated image of a car with a trunk open glowed on the dashboard. He decided not to pursue the argument. Some fights weren’t worth fighting, and he didn’t want Charlie to feel bad about losing the guy. Part of the blame was on Sean too, a fact he knew well. If he’d followed behind instead of leading the way back to his friend’s house, he would have seen the man trying to escape.
“Should we backtrack and see if we can find him?” Charlie asked with a hint of guilt in his voice.
Sean returned to the rear of the car. He thought about the question for a second before answering. “No,” he shook his head. “He’ll be long gone by now.” A few tense moments passed as Sean thought about their next move.
“You’ll need to stay somewhere else tonight. That guy might come back.”
Charlie’s face curled. He clearly didn’t like the idea of running away like a frightened animal. “Oh, come on, Sean. He’s not gonna come back around here. Besides, I’m armed and dangerous.” He said the last part with a sly grin.
“Trust me, if I was him, this would be the first place I would look. He might be careful about it. I’d say it’s likely he will be. He’ll assume you’ll have contacted the authorities.”
“Cops?” Charlie spat. “A lot of help they were.”
His comment led Sean full circle to the conversation he’d been thinking about during the drive back to the city. “What did that guy want from you anyway?”
“I don’t know,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Something about a rare coin I put online. He wanted to know where it was and where I got it.”
Sean lowered his eyebrows to match the frown on his lips. “And he needed to take you out to the Sequatchie Valley to get that information out of you?”
Charlie shrugged. “I was too busy gettin’ roughed up to ask him about his methods.” He touched a finger to his swollen lower lip, and then walked over to the kitchen to get an ice cube from the freezer.
Sean followed him and sat down at a short counter constructed out of reclaimed wood and butcher block. “Do you have the coin?” he asked.
Still holding the ice to his lip, Charlie shook his head. “No,” he said through pursed lips. “I never had it. The thing belongs to a friend of mine. I tried to tell the Russian I didn’t have it, but he wouldn’t believe me. He kept insisting I tell him where it was or he’d kill me.” Charlie laughed at this point, almost dropping his ice. “I told him if he killed me he’d probably never find the coin.”
“I doubt he appreciated that.”
“Screw him,” Charlie said bitterly. “We shoulda put a bullet in his skull while we had the chance. Isn’t that the sort of thing you normally do?”
Sean winced internally at the comment, but passed it off. His friend didn’t know any better. “I’m trying to avoid that nowadays,” he said smiling.
“Well, I wish you woulda made an exception.”
“Finding out who the guy works for seemed like a better idea at the time.”
“And look where that got us.” Charlie’s charm hadn’t changed in all the years Sean had known him. Then something occurred to the older man. “Guy he works for?”
“Did the Russian strike you as a collector of rare coins?” Sean’s sarcasm couldn’t have been thicker.
Charlie’s eyes squinted as he tried to hold back the laughter that crept up from his pot belly. After a few seconds, he couldn’t keep it in any longer and erupted. “That’s a good point, Sean. Good point. No, he didn’t strike me as a rare coin collector type. Not one bit.”
“Right. That means he was after it for someone. And in my experience, when there is someone trying to acquire a rare item for someone else, that usually means bigger trouble is lurking behind the curtain.”
“Curtain? What curtain?” Charlie’s laughter had subsided and was replaced with a confused stare.
“It’s a metaphor, Charlie,” Sean shook his head. “I’m just saying there’s usually a deeper plot than just a rare coin.”
The older man thought about what Sean was saying for a few seconds before he spoke. “So you think that this coin could lead to something bigger? Like a treasure or something?”
“Beats me.” It was Sean’s turn to shrug. “There aren’t too many coins out there that are worth killing someone.” This gave him an idea. “You said you don’t have the coin here.”
“Nope.”
“But you put it online. I’m guessing in a forum or something like that.”
“Yep.”
“Show it to me.”
Charlie led his friend over to a little computer workstation in the corner of the garage-home. He’d made the desk from what appeared to be the same reclaimed wood as the kitchen counter. He opened up his laptop and hit several keys, then tapped enter.
A few clicks later, Charlie had found the image of the coin he’d posted in the forum just a few days before. Sean leaned in close to get a better view. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to examine the picture.
“Can you zoom in on this or make it a little bigger?”
“Sure,” Charlie said and moved the mouse, made a few clicks, and watched the screen zoom closer.
Sean stared at the screen. “I’ve never seen a coin like this before.”
“That makes two of us. Thus the reason I had to put it on this forum to see if anyone knew anything about it.”
“Does anyone?”
Charlie clicked back to the thread. There were no replies. “Nope. And this is a pretty active forum. Anyone who knows anything about antique or ancient coins is on this site almost daily. There are threads popping up constantly. I’m guessing no one knows what this is or where it came from.”
Sean’s eyes stayed locked on the round metal coin. It was in remarkable shape, still with rounded edges and a distinct raised image on the flat surface. Due to the screen resolution, it was hard to make out what the lettering said, but the man’s face on it was clear as day. He had deep, weathered eyes and a long beard that stretched down past his neck. The face was staring forward and to the left at an angle, giving it a sort of three-dimensional appearance.
“My friend said it’s made from gold, but I’m not so sure,” Charlie said as he stood up from his desk. He walked over to a bar in the opposite corner of the room. It was the only piece of furniture in the room that looked like it had come from a retail store. It featured a drop-down door on the top and two standard doors on the bottom.
He pulled down the top door and removed a tumbler. “Want something to drink?” he asked in a friendly tone. Sean was still standing by the computer, trying to analyze the image of the coin.
“No. I’m good, Charlie. Thank you.” Sean was so mesmerized by the object on the screen that his answer was almost inaudible.
Charlie plucked a bottle of bourbon from the top of the bar and poured a few ounces of the amber liquid into the glass. After putting the bottle back, he took a long, slow sip and let out a deep sigh. “That’s more like it. Nothing like a glass of good whiskey after getting soaked in the rain.”
Sean ignored the comment and stood. “Why don’t you think it’s gold?”
His host had taken another sip and swallowed before responding. “Gold’s soft,” Charlie said holding out the tumbler to make his point. “It would have likely been through so much wear and tear through the years that the face on the surface would nearly be gone. Not to mention gold is a fairly rare metal. To make a run of coins like that would take a huge lode.”