The Moche Warrior Read Online Free PDF

catch up to his car. It’s amazing, really, the depths to which we sink in dealing with an ex-spouse.
    The trouble with this small victory, of course, was that while at the time it struck me as a masterful stroke, it merely escalated the conflict. He’d taken the goblets, I’d taken his snuff bottle. At that point we were more or less even. But I couldn’t let it alone, I was still so angry. In my heart I knew, of course, that there must still be something unresolved in that relationship, even though a few years and another love had gone by. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to figure that one out. But I kept going anyway, as petty as I knew it to be. And knowing only too well just how immature Clive was, I knew he’d figure out who had the car towed and would find a way to retaliate.
    I didn’t have long to wait.
    A few days after the car incident, Clive swept into the store. “Just coming to say hello to my neighbors,” he said. “The place looks very nice, Lara. And this must be your new partner. Sarah, is it?”‘ he said in his most charming voice.
    Sarah murmured something polite, then disappeared in the back, wisely not wishing to be part of this little scene. I smiled weakly, then went to assist a customer in the second showroom. I heard Clive wandering around in the front room. In a few moments I heard him talking to an old customer of ours. “George!” he exclaimed. “How nice to see you again. Still collecting New World santos?” he asked. I heard George murmur a reply. “I have one you really must see, quite exceptional,” Clive went on. There was a pause. “Right across the road, George.” I could picture Clive pointing across the road, and I excused myself for a moment from my customer. But it was too late. Clive, his arm on the shoulder of one of our oldest clients, was steering him over to his shop. He’d stolen a good customer right from under my nose.
    It was not until the next day that I noticed that the silver peanut was missing. I’d been working on it a bit in the shop, and I thought I’d left it either on the desk in the little office or in the small drawer behind the front counter. But it was in neither place and a search of the whole shop turned up nothing. There was, in my mind, only one possible explanation. I marched across the street.
    “I didn’t think you’d stoop so low as to steal something, Clive,” I huffed. “An auction is one thing, but this petty theft—”
    “What are you talking about, Lara?” Clive replied. “Surely taking a customer away is not theft. Why don’t we call it healthy competition?”
    “I’m not talking about George. I’m talking about the peanut,” I replied, knowing as the words came out of my mouth that I sounded like an idiot.
    “The peanut,” Clive sighed. “My God, Lara, you really are losing it. Take a vacation or a Valium or something. There’s nothing wrong with my setting up shop across the street. Why do you think the big shopping malls have competitors at either end? Why are whole streets lined with stores selling the same kind of merchandise? Because it’s good business, that’s why. With you and I both here, this could end up being the antiques center of the city. There’s business enough for both of us. So please stop this nonsense about peanuts!”
    I just looked at him. “Come on,” he wheedled. “Let’s kiss and make up. Or shake hands at least. We were a good team once, weren’t we? We’re even on the auction, and I’ll forgive what you did to my car, if you’ll forgive the abduction of George.” He held out his hand. After a second or two, somewhat reluctantly, I took it.
    “Welcome back to the neighborhood, Clive,” I said.
    “That’s better,” he said. I mentally pictured myself spray-painting his lovely beige suit purple. It helped a lot.
    There didn’t seem to be any more to be said, and so I turned to go. “I don’t suppose you’d sell me the snuff bottle?” he said.
    “Sure,” I replied.