A Change of Worlds

Book 5 of the Killian Kendall Mysteries

By Josh Aterovis
Copyright 2026

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Chapter 26

I parked my car in front of the antique store and looked over at Jacy. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be. What about you? Is the camera running yet?"

I clicked on the camera pen I'd inserted into the neck of my polo shirt. "It is now. I feel like James Bond."

Jacy laughed. "That thing is so cool. This detective stuff is a lot more fun than I thought."

"It has its moments," I said with a grin. "We've got our story straight, right?"

"Yep. I'm starting a collection, and I want something really special to be my first purchase."

"Great. Let's go."

We walked into the store, where a small brass bell attached to the door announced our entrance. The man we had talked to the week before appeared from the back room.

"Hello again." Jacy gave him a bright smile. "We're back."

The man nodded, but didn't return the smile. "I didn't really expect to see you again."

"Why not? I told you I was starting a collection and I want it to be special. You said you have the biggest selection in the area, so why would I go anywhere else?"

The man nodded and finally cracked a small smile. "Come on back. To tell the truth, I just figured you were some kid playing around. You don't see too many guys your age interested in collecting, especially the good stuff. I haven't even gone through my best pieces. It might take me a few minutes to pull some things for you."

"That's no problem, Mr.—"

"Joyner. Malcolm Joyner." Once we were all in the backroom, he pulled out a keychain and unlocked a door I hadn't noticed before. "I'll just be a minute or two." He disappeared through the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Jacy raised an eyebrow, silently asking how he was doing. I gave him two thumbs up before slowly walking around the room, scanning the camera over all the artifacts on display. I didn't notice anything new from what had been there before, but I couldn't be sure. I only hoped the camera was working.

I'd just completed my circuit when Joyner came back, balancing a tray of stone tools that he slid onto the counter. Before he could shut the door again I caught a glimpse of a dimly lit storage space piled with boxes and a few pieces of furniture.

I moved to stand next to Jacy, doing my best to direct the camera towards the tray. To get the right angle, I had to bend stiffly at the waist. Joyner gave me a strange look, probably wondering why I was behaving so oddly.

I decided to head him off before he became too curious. "I took some archaeology classes at school last semester. All this stuff fascinates me."

Dismissing my interest, he shifted his attention back to Jacy. "These are a few of my better pieces."

He picked up a polished stone shaped like a propeller blade with a hole drilled through the center. It appeared similar to the one Mr. Thompson had shown me but glossier and made from a different stone.

"This is a bannerstone. They used it on an atlatl. Do you know what that is?"

I got the impression he was somehow testing Jacy. If I hadn't played that little guessing game with Mr. Thompson, I never would have known, and I'd just claimed to be an archaeology student. I hoped Joyner wouldn't spring any pop-quiz questions on me. Then again, if he did, I could always claim the course had only briefly covered Native Americans.

"Of course. An atlatl is a spear thrower." Jacy held out his hand for the object, which Joyner reluctantly passed to him. "Isn't this a fairly simple design for a bannerstone?"

Joyner nodded slightly. "It's a pretty common style." He selected another artifact from the tray. This one appeared to be an oversized arrowhead, as long as the length of my hand and almost as wide. "What do you think of this?"

Jacy's eyes widened. "It's beautiful," he said in a reverent tone. He had clearly dropped any pretense at acting and was genuinely moved by the item.

Joyner couldn't hide a proud — and somewhat predatory — smile at Jacy's obvious appreciation.

"It's a blade," he said, "and an especially fine one."

"Where did it come from?"

"It's local. Nice, huh?"

"It really is. Can I see it?"

Joyner handed him the blade, exchanging it for the bannerstone, which he carefully replaced. Then he selected a flat, rectangular stone decorated with an etched geometric design and several carefully drilled holes. "How about this gorget?"

Jacy just shook his head. "How much are these?"

"Well, I thought I remembered you saying money wasn't an issue, so I brought out some of the nicer things I have on hand right now."

Jacy seemed to recall why we were here and snapped back into investigator mode. "Does that mean you get new pieces often?"

"On and off. It's not like I receive regular shipments. I never know when something new is going to come in."

"If I gave you my name and number, would you call me if something comes in you think I'd be interested in?"

"Maybe, if I felt it was worth my time."

Jacy took the hint and turned his attention back to the ancient object in his hand. "How much are you asking for this blade?"

"Well, since it's your first purchase to start your collection, let's say five-fifty."

"Five hundred and fifty?" Jacy clarified, not quite covering his shock.

"That's right."

"And the gorget?"

"Three-fifty."

"The bannerstone?"

"Six hundred."

Jacy looked back down at the blade with a new respect. I knew he hadn't come prepared to spend that much, but if we didn't buy something, the chances we'd hear from Joyner again were next to none.

"I think you should get it," I piped up.

Jacy shot me a look, trying to keep his expression neutral but not quite pulling it off. "What?"

"Well, you obviously like it. You came to start your collection, so you might as well do it right. You can afford it."

I put a little extra emphasis on the last part, hoping he'd catch the hint that the investigation would cover his expenses. I'd just bill the tribe for the purchase.

He nodded and turned back to Joyner. "You know what, he's right. I'll take it."

"The blade?"

"Yes."

Joyner broke into a wolfish grin. "I'll wrap it up for you."

"Oh my God," Jacy gasped as we got in the car. "I just bought a six-hundred-dollar blade. My credit card is probably still smoking!"

"Don't worry. I'll cover it. I'll write you a check for the full amount when we get back to the office."

I pulled out the pen and turned off the camera.

Jacy shook his head. "This is insane. I almost panicked when he started quoting prices."

I laughed. "I could tell. We have an expense account for situations like this."

"You could have warned me in advance."

I laughed again. "Where's the fun in that?"

He laughed with me, before asking, "Did you get some good shots?"

"I don't know. Let's find out." I pulled my laptop out of its case, connected the cord to the pen, and plugged the other end into the USB port. I downloaded the file that popped up, waiting anxiously for it to finish transferring to my hard drive. I held my breath as I clicked on the file.

I released a sigh of relief as a surprisingly clear video of the store sprang to life on my screen.

"Looks like it. I can't believe the quality. It's better than I expected. And we also have one actual artifact for Professor Howard to inspect, in addition to this footage. Mission accomplished!"

"Do you think I'll ever hear from Joyner?"

Jacy had left the man his name and cell-phone number with instructions to call if any new items came in.

"Honestly? I doubt it. I thought he was acting a little suspicious. We can only hope the sale will outweigh his wariness. If he does contact you, though, let me know right away."

"Of course."

I'd seen enough of the video to know the camera had worked. I shut my laptop and glanced up towards the building. My breath caught in my throat. Joyner was standing at the door staring at us intently. I pasted on a quick smile and waved at him. No trace of expression crossed his face, but he did give me a terse nod.

Jacy followed my gaze. "Do you think he saw?"

"I sure hope not. Do you think he could see the screen from my lap?"

"I don't know."

"Shit." I inhaled noisily through clenched teeth. "Nothing we can do about it now. We just have to hope he thought we were checking out the blade."

I was quiet as we drove downtown, mentally berating myself for being so stupid.

"You shouldn't get so upset," Jacy said at last. "You don't know that he saw the screen."

"And I don't know that he didn't. Besides, whether he did or not, I was careless. I should have waited until we were back at the office to look at the video. I might have blown the case because of my screw-up."

Jacy sighed and slumped down in his seat. There was nothing he could say. We both knew I was right.

As soon as we reached the office, Jacy had to leave to get back to work. I promised to call him when I had his reimbursement check or when I knew something more about the video footage, whichever came first.

After he left, I went up to see if Novak was busy. I felt a need to confess my bungling. I wasn't Catholic, but at that moment I could have used a couple of Hail Marys — or Bloody Marys.

I found Novak on the phone. One look at my face, though, and he waved me in and started trying to end the call.

I laid the pen on his desk, then dropped heavily into a chair to wait.

A minute later, Novak hung up and turned his attention to me. "Did the camera work?"

"Yes."

"Did you get some good footage?"

"I think so."

"So what's wrong?"

"I may have compromised my investigation."

He raised an eyebrow as he leaned back in his seat. "How so?"

"When we got back to the car, I was so eager to see if it had recorded anything that I downloaded it right there in the parking lot. I glanced up to see Joyner — that's the owner — watching from the door."

"Did he see what you were doing?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping he thought we were admiring our new purchase. I waved, and he just sort of nodded back. He seemed a little brusque, but then, he always is."

Novak shrugged. "At this point, there's no way of knowing what he saw, so don't sweat it."

"Don't sweat it? I could have blown the case!"

"Or you could have made a minor mistake that amounts to nothing. You learn from it and move on."

"But what if he did see?"

"So what? You already got the footage. Even if it turns out he is fencing the stolen artifacts, chances are the looter already knows you're investigating."

"But if he realizes I'm catching up to him, he might panic."

"Which could work to your advantage. When people panic, they get sloppy."

"What if he just gets more careful?"

"What if the moon slips from its orbit and careens into Earth? Killian, you're getting upset over something that might not have even happened, and even if it did, it's not the end of the world. The antique store isn't your only avenue for catching this guy. In fact, even if you confirm that artifacts taken from the dig are showing up at the store, you don't know who actually stole them, and you have no proof that the owner knew they were stolen. He could very well have bought them in good faith. He probably doesn't ask a lot of questions."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. So you're saying I should keep pursuing other avenues."

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Who has motive and opportunity? If you think the artifacts are being stolen for profit, who stands to benefit the most? Who needs money that desperately?"

I nodded. "Right. Okay."

"You should also give Professor Howard a call and see when she can take a look at the footage you recorded."

"And artifact," I said absently, already thinking about where to go from here.

"Artifact?"

"Oh yeah. We owe Jacy five hundred and fifty dollars, plus tax. He bought an artifact."

Novak's eyebrow shot up again. "I'm assuming it was a necessary expense."

"Yeah. We had to convince Joyner that we were serious collectors."

Novak nodded. "Turn in the paperwork and receipt and I'll cut him a check before I leave today."

"Thanks."

I returned to my desk and quickly wrote up my notes, including the details of my blunder. I gave Novak the requested paperwork, then moved on to other matters.

First, I called Professor Howard. Without hesitation, she agreed to help me by viewing the video. I made an appointment to see her the next morning.

With that out of the way, I turned to the question Novak had raised. Who needed money? I remembered Alexander saying he was on a scholarship that he was desperately trying to hang on to, but I didn't know about the rest of them. I decided to call Elyse and see if she could shed any light on the financial status of the crew.

"Hello?" a woman answered. I was pretty sure she wasn't Elyse.

It took a second for me to recognize the voice. "Susan?"

"Yes," she replied warily. "Who is this?"

"Killian Kendall."

"Right."

I glanced down at my notebook to make sure I'd dialed the correct number. "I wasn't expecting you to answer the phone."

"Well...um. Look, Elyse told me you know about the two of us, so I guess it won't hurt to tell you I'm moving in with her."

"Really? But what about the school? Won't that seem—?" I cut myself off. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"No, it's fine. Elyse needs me, and I want to be here for her. We're tired of sneaking around."

"Like I said, it's really none of my business." Despite my polite disinterest, I couldn't help wondering if Susan was moving in with Elyse because she couldn't afford to keep her apartment. "Is Elyse available?"

"Sure. Hang on a second."

A few moments later Elyse picked up. She'd obviously been standing nearby. "Hello, Killian," she said somewhat guardedly.

"Hi, Elyse. I was hoping you could help me out a little with some questions regarding the case."

"Oh. Okay. Sure." She sounded decidedly more relaxed once she realized I wasn't going to give her a hard time about Susan.

"Who among the crew was in need of money?"

She laughed. "They're college kids. They all need money."

"No, I mean serious need. Who might resort to theft to make money?"

"Oh, I see where you're going with this." She was quiet for a few seconds. "I'm not sure how ethical it would be for me to discuss such personal matters."

"Elyse, two people have been murdered so far, and an elderly man was physically assaulted. The time for caution is long past. I need to find out as much as possible about everyone involved. You know I can keep this in confidence if I have to."

She sighed. "You're right. Let me think." A little more time passed. "Alexander is on a full scholarship."

"I knew that. He mentioned it when I spoke to him before."

"He comes from a very poor family. He never had any spare cash. If we went out as a group, he'd never order anything for himself. He didn't ask anyone for money, but a lot of the time, someone from the group would buy him food or drinks."

"What about the others?"

"Israel is on a scholarship too."

"He is?" That one caught me by surprise. I pictured his expensively furnished apartment.

"Yes, but he always seems to have money. You've been to Britney's house?"

"Yes, when I was doing interviews."

"Then you know her family is comfortable. She was never strapped for cash. Ricky—"

I could hear Susan's voice in the background.

"Susan says that Ricky has a gambling habit. He goes to the casinos almost every weekend. He's invited her along a few times, but she's always said no."

"Does Ricky have money?"

Elyse relayed the question. "She has no idea," she reported. "And neither do I."

I paused as I tried to figure out how to best tackle my next question. Elyse spared me the trouble.

"I guess you want to know about me and Susan as well."

"Well, yes, but then again, I would hardly expect you to implicate yourself or Susan."

"Meaning, you don't trust us to tell you the truth."

"I didn't say that."

She laughed lightly. "No, but I understand your position. Honestly, I don't exactly make a fortune as a professor, but it's enough for me to be comfortable, at least with my lifestyle. Susan inherited quite a bit from her grandparents, and she also works part time bartending."

"If she has money, why does she tend bar?"

"She has enough that she doesn't have to worry, but the inheritance won't last forever. Besides, she says she likes bartending."

"Fair enough. I guess that's all the questions I have right now. Thanks for being so honest with me." Assuming you were honest, I added to myself.

"No problem."

I hung up and looked over the notes I'd jotted while I talked to Elyse. I had written three names with dollar signs next to them: Alexander, Israel, and Ricky. They all had opportunity, and they all possibly needed money. I added question marks behind Israel's and Ricky's names. Israel was obviously getting money from somewhere. Could it be the profit from stolen artifacts? If he was selling stolen artifacts, flaunting your money in front of your coworkers would be pretty stupid, but it wouldn't be the first time a criminal had made a dumb mistake. I had no idea if Ricky needed cash, only that Susan reported he gambled often, which didn't necessarily translate into financial difficulties. Maybe he won a lot. I needed to talk to the three guys.

I started to call Alexander, then stopped. I'd had solid success with my surprise visits. No need to fix something that isn't broken.

I stuck my head into Novak's office. "I'm leaving again."

"Fine. I'll get the phone. Don’t worry about me." His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I can't wait until Chris starts," he added under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear.

I chuckled. "Just let the voicemail pick up. I'll check back in later."

"That's what I was planning to do anyway. I'm just giving you a hard time."

"What's new? I thought I'd get a little more respect, now that I'm a partner."

"You earn respect, young one." He grinned. "Don't worry about coming back this afternoon. Any messages will wait until tomorrow."

Pulling up in front of Alexander's address, I was struck once again by how rundown the house appeared. I knocked and heard footsteps from inside.

The door swung open to reveal a pale, overweight woman with stringy black hair going to gray. She was dressed in a faded and stained lavender sweat shirt and grungy, baggy jeans. She eyed me suspiciously. "Yeah?"

"Is Alexander home?"

"You a friend from school?"

"Yeah," I fibbed.

"He's not here right now." She started to close the door.

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Nope." The door clicked shut.

Strike one.

I went to Israel's apartment next, but no one answered my knock. I wrote a note on a business card asking him to call me, and stuck it in his door. I was zero for two so far.

Ricky was my last chance for the day. It was almost dinnertime, and my stomach was starting to remind me that all I'd had for lunch was a couple of stale cookies rescued from my desk drawer.

Ricky answered the door almost before I'd finished knocking. His face lit up when he saw me.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Killian Kendall, PI." He smirked at me as if he'd just come up with something terribly witty, and I remembered why I didn't like him. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes if you have the time."

"I've got all the time in the world. Come on in."

As I entered, I noticed what appeared to be a skinny gorilla in a basketball jersey and cutoff sweat pants sitting on the couch playing some first-person shooter video game on the TV.

Ricky introduced me to his hirsute housemate. "This is my roomie, Joe. Joe, this is Killian Kendall."

"'Sup?" Joe grunted, his eyes never leaving the TV screen.

"Sit down," Ricky offered as he dropped into a chair.

I took the only other chair in the room and glanced over at Joe again. I'd never seen anyone so hairy. A dark pelt covered almost every square inch of exposed skin, including his shoulders and what little of his back I could glimpse from where he sat leaning forward on the couch. He was almost enough to make me believe in the existence of Sasquatch.

Ricky misinterpreted my stare. "You don't have to worry about Joe. If he's playing, he won't even notice we're in the room. Right, Joe?"

"Huh?" Joe mumbled inattentively.

"Never mind," Ricky said with an I-told-you-so grin. "So what's up?"

"I'm just doing some follow-up interviews with everyone on the crew."

"Good luck with Bridget." He chuckled at his own sick joke, until he noticed my face. "Oh man, sorry. I guess that was inappropriate. I just have a really sick sense of humor. I think it's because I'm such a comic-book geek, you know? We're famous for our developmental problems." He grinned as if he were somehow proud of his lack of social graces.

"Anyway," I forged ahead, "right now I'm looking into the financial status of everyone on the crew."

"That's easy. Alexander is dirt poor, Israel gets money from somewhere but nobody knows where, Susan is some sort of trust-fund baby or something, and Doc Pike survives on her professorial salary. I'm assuming Bridget is out of the running, but she was filthy rich anyway."

"You know a lot about your colleagues' finances."

He shrugged with a smug expression. "I know a lot about my colleagues, period."

"Why?"

Another shrug. "I like to know everything I can about the people around me. For instance, I know you solved your first case when you were sixteen after your friend was murdered — and you blew away the killer in the process."

I tried not to flinch at his blunt presentation of the facts. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your financial status?"

"I get by."

"That's vague."

"My parents pay for college and give me spending money. Is that detailed enough for you?"

"What about your gambling habit? Do they give you money for that too?"

His eyes narrowed. He obviously didn't appreciate being on the other side of the rumor mill. "I don't have a gambling habit."

"I heard you hit the casino almost every weekend."

"So?"

"Doesn’t that get expensive?"

"Not if you know what you're doing." His voice was cold and defensive now.

"And you know what you're doing?"

"I like to think so."

"So that doesn't cause any financial strain?"

"No."

I decided to change tack. "You said Israel always has money but you have no idea where it comes from?"

He nodded. His eyes were still guarded, as if he expected me to shift the topic of conversation back to his gambling at any moment.

"What did you mean by that?" I pressed.

"Just that he always seems to have cash but no job anyone is aware of."

"Family money?"

"He mentioned before that he was raised by his aunt and they never had a lot of money while he was growing up."

"Doesn't mean they don't have money now."

He shrugged. "You'll have to ask him."

It was obvious I'd set him on edge with my aggressive questioning, and he was clamming up as a result. It was time to leave.

"Well, thanks for talking to me."

When Ricky just nodded without moving from his chair, I figured I'd have to let myself out. I paused at the door. "It was nice meeting you, Joe."

"Totally," he shot back, still engrossed in his game.

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