214 Palmer Street(10)
Gavin reached over and gave her a pat. “I know my detectives gave you their cards, but feel free to call me directly if you prefer. Friends get special priority. You and Kirk are family to me.”
“We feel the same way about you and Natalie,” Kirk said, which wasn’t entirely true—at least not on Sarah’s part. They were Kirk’s friends and she found them pleasant enough, but family? No, not at all.
She had to admit, though, that Gavin Kramer was a presence. He had a loud laugh and a way of pulling people into conversations. His signature look consisted of wraparound sunglasses, a neatly trimmed goatee, and a wide smile, revealing straight, bright white teeth. If you spent any time with him at all, you’d hear him proclaim his love for his wife, his country, and his SUV.
But despite Gavin’s big personality and good looks, there had always been something about him that Sarah found off-putting. She had no reason not to like him; in fact, he and his wife, Natalie, had welcomed her into their circle of friends with open arms. But something was off and she couldn’t quite work it out. Maybe it was the way they always insisted on having dinner at their house, but found excuses not to come to Kirk and Sarah’s. Or the way Gavin had of bragging about his exploits, his most recent golf game, a big arrest at work, the woman brought in for questioning who blatantly hit on him even though, he said, she was under suspicion of burglary and he was happily married. He’d pulled Natalie into a hug after saying this. “When a man comes home to a woman like this, all others pale in comparison.”
Natalie had rolled her eyes and leaned in toward Sarah. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
Gavin told countless stories, all of them for entertainment value, and he had a killer sense of humor. Despite herself, Sarah found herself laughing. He told jokes too and did impressions. People remembered Gavin. Of the two high school friends, Kirk might have turned out to be a bigger financial success, but when it came to having standing in the community and important connections, Gavin had him beat.
The man also had a fondness for things—oddities and collectibles. During her first visit to their house, while his wife was getting the table ready for dinner, he’d insisted on showing Sarah all the treasures located in his den. Kirk had unenthusiastically followed them down the stairs to the lower level. “I’m not sure this is Sarah’s kind of thing,” he’d said.
“She’s going to go crazy when she sees.” Gavin’s tone was firm. “Everyone does.”
The room with its black-and-white motif, large-screen TV and leather furniture had a man-cave vibe. What made it unique were the items he kept displayed in glass cabinets and framed shadow boxes. She was taken aback at the shrunken head and the display of white mice dressed in clothing and arranged as if they were playing a miniature round of golf. “The magic of taxidermy,” he’d said, proudly showing it to her. Some of the items he’d gotten during their travels, but he also came across things at estate sales and antique shops.
One wall was covered with weaponry: antique firearms and numerous swords. Taking in the display, she said, “Looks like an entire fleet of ninjas could battle it out here.”
Gavin took her comment as encouragement and went around, telling her about each item. Everything had a story. One antique pistol he’d gotten after a bidding war with another guy. “A real yokel,” he’d said. “Right off the farm, but not stupid. He clearly knew the value of the piece. It’s one of a kind. He desperately wanted it, but I got it.” He grinned.
Kirk must have sensed her boredom because he said, “Shouldn’t we be heading back upstairs? Natalie must be ready with dinner by now.”
“She’ll call us when it’s time, believe me,” Gavin said with a wave of his hand. He kept going, ignoring Kirk and focusing on Sarah. Even though they’d barely known each other at that point, he was overly familiar, resting his hand on the small of her back and leaning in close when making a point. She could see the whiskers on his face and smell breath mints as he spoke.
Because Gavin was Kirk’s best friend, she ignored her unease, making a point to smile and exclaim over every piece. Still, she was relieved when they’d gotten to the last one, a black-framed shadow box holding a silver knife.
“And this one?” she’d asked lightly. “Did it belong to Julius Caesar?”
“I can smell dinner,” Kirk said before she got her answer. “Shall we go up?” He made a point to take hold of her hand, as if reclaiming her.
“I am hungry,” Sarah said, turning to Gavin. “And Kirk has raved about Natalie’s cooking.”
“In a minute,” Gavin said. “I need to tell you about this knife because it’s my favorite.”
“Oh, man,” Kirk groaned. “Can’t you see that Sarah is bored? Give her a break.”
Sarah felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “No, no, it’s fine,” she assured him. “I’m finding this all very interesting. Tell me about the knife.”
“It wasn’t owned by Julius Caesar,” Gavin said with a laugh, “but it’s still very special. It’s a machete made from Damascus steel.”
She leaned in to take a closer look. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that kind of steel.”
“You can tell it’s made with Damascus steel by the wavy light-and-dark patterns in the metal. See?” Gavin pointed. “Besides being beautiful, it maintains its razor-sharp edge. It’s superior to weapons forged from iron. Both hard and flexible.” He raised one eyebrow.