Artifact by Gigi Pandian

out front, bicycles along the fence in the beer garden. He hadn’t said another word for the rest of the walk.
    “Too much for you? You should get out of that stuffy little office more.”
    “I don’t know how you do it in those heels.”
    We ordered drinks at the bar, then took them through to the back beer garden’s wooden tables and benches.
    Lane quickly scanned the garden. It was only half-full. He led the way to a table in the back corner and sat down, facing outward. I sat on the other side of the table and tucked my legs underneath me.
    I took a gulp of my Bloody Mary. I felt like I needed some vegetables.
    “This car crash,” Lane said. “You don’t think it was accidental. Why?”
    “Are you hungry?” I asked, avoiding the question. “We could order some burgers.” Even though I’d told him what was going on, I wasn’t quite ready to share everything. When I thought about what I would say next, that I thought Rupert had been murdered, it sounded too crazy to say out loud to someone I’d met only that day.
    “What I am is not hungry,” Lane said.
    “Right.”
    “Jaya?”
    “Mm?” I took another sip of my drink. He couldn’t expect me to talk with a mouthful of tomato juice.
    The hum of voices around us was starting to pick up. Pieces of conversations about bad bosses, new restaurants, and trips to Lake Tahoe blended together. I looked around at the tables. A stocky man drinking a beer by himself caught my eye, then looked quickly away.
    “The car crash,” Lane said again.
    “I know it sounds crazy,” I blurted out. “But with the package he sent to me the very same day—”
    “The note isn’t dated.”
    “There was a postmark,” I said. “Between the timing of when he was killed, what you told me about the bracelet, and now the breakin....”
    “You think he was murdered.”
    “I knew you’d think it was insane.”
    “I didn’t say that,” Lane said. “Quite the contrary. I was wondering why you were so calm at your apartment and walking down here in the wide open. You believe someone is after the ruby treasure, has broken into your apartment, and that a murderer is on the loose. What I think is that you should be taking this more seriously.”
    I believe I gasped. Hearing him state the implications so clearly and calmly made the situation all too real. I untucked my legs so my feet were firmly on the ground.
    “But why go after me?” I asked. “Rupert was involved in something that got him murdered. But even if someone is after the bracelet—and I’m still not totally convinced the breakin was more than a coincidence—”
    “You’re too intelligent to believe in this degree of coincidence.”
    “You really believe there’s a murderer on the loose? Here ?”
    I said it a bit too loudly. Two people at a nearby table stopped their conversation mid-sentence and tried to look at us without turning their heads completely around. I ignored their terrible attempt at subtle eavesdropping.
    “Not just one,” Lane said.
    If I didn’t gasp again, I’m fairly certain that at the very least my mouth was gaping open more than was attractive.
    Lane had spoken at a more appropriate volume for the discussion of murder. The eavesdroppers returned to their own conversation. I, on the other hand, returned to my drink and polished off the last of it.
    “You can’t think the same guy who killed your ex was sneaking around your apartment,” he said. “We’re in another country. On the other side of the world.”
    “ Now who’s the one being contradictory? You’re the one who went on and on about an apocryphal treasure existing. That sounds like a big enough deal for someone to hop on a flight. You can’t have it both ways any more than I can.”
    “I’m not,” he said, calmly taking a sip of his drink. “I figured it was a conspiracy.”
    As he said it, it dawned on me that he had purposefully selected a seat in the farthest corner of the garden. He had sat down first,