Free Artifact by Gigi Pandian

something anyway?”
    “I didn’t put that can in my bag,” I snapped, dropping his hand.
    “You didn’t?” His eyes darted around.
    “Long story,” I said. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
    “You sure?”
    “What did you say to the security guard?”
    “We should get out of here,” he said. “Muscle man might change his mind.”
    I grabbed my bags and shoes and let Lane lead me away from the security area. I stopped once we were a few dozen yards into the concourse.
    “How did you do that?” I asked, dropping my bags and putting on my shoes.
    “You’re lucky it was only pepper spray, not a Taser.”
    “But what did you say?”
    “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It worked.”
    “You’re right. What matters is that you followed me.”
    “I followed your lead, but not you.” He started walking again, looking around at the gate numbers. He pulled a ticket out of his dress shirt pocket without slowing, glanced at it, then put it back.
    I caught up to him.
    “I’m going to London,” he said, “to write that article. All those paintings to back up this new hypothesis will be at the British Library in London. You wouldn’t want my article to be full of shoddy scholarship, would you?”
    He stopped in front of a gate. My gate. I flung my backpack onto the empty seat in front of me.
    “No direct flights to Scotland?” Lane asked.
    “Rupert was a lecturer in London. I’m stopping there before heading up to Scotland.”
    An announcement crackled on the speakers above, informing us that pre-boarding would begin momentarily.
    “I’ll be right back,” Lane said.
    He approached a flight staff member at the counter. He leaned over and folded his arms on the high counter, facing away from me. The young woman giggled and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear flirtatiously. She began typing on the computer. A few moments later, she handed two small pieces of paper to Lane.
    “What was that?” I asked once he returned.
    “I got us seats together.”
    “You—”
    “Sorry they’re in the back. Peak summer season and all.”
    He handed me a new boarding pass. I hadn’t noticed my old one was missing out of the front pocket of my bag.
    “What makes you think I want to sit with you?”
    “Aren’t you worried about your burglar? He didn’t get what he’s after.”
    “He can’t. It’s in a safe deposit box.”
    “He doesn’t know that. If I were him, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”
    My resolve of the night before was nowhere to be found today. I was all too aware of my tense neck muscles as I scanned the waiting area. I half-expected to see the stocky man who’d caught my eye at Zeitgeist the night before.
    I didn’t.
    No one I even vaguely recognized was in sight.
    Just Lane.
    “How would the burglar even find me?”
    “Nobody knows you’re here?”
    “Well of course people know I’m leaving. I can’t very well take off without anybody knowing I’ll be away.” Very few people, in fact. Not that I was going to tell that to Lane.
    “There you go.”
    The man had a way of leaving me speechless.
    “That’s our group they’re calling,” he said, standing up.
    My stunned silence continued as we boarded the plane and got ourselves situated. I suspiciously regarded the man with sideburns and too much cologne who sat down in the aisle seat next to us.
    “I didn’t see anyone go up to the counter after me to switch their seat.” Lane said. “He wouldn’t be near us.”
    “Then why do you look so worried?”
    “I’m not worried,” Lane snapped. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, even though it was already loosened.
    “At least I know you’re a bad liar.”
    Giving up on his collar, Lane crossed his arms so firmly that his knuckles began to turn white.
    “Ah,” I said. “You’re afraid of flying.”
    “I wouldn’t use that strong of a word.” Lane faced forward and didn’t look at me as he spoke.
    Since Lane didn’t seem to want to talk about it, I