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?“We need more evidence,” I pointed out. “I want to talk to them, see if they know more than they let on about all this.”
?“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” Mark acknowledged.
?We entered the hotel, and the pair of us took the nearest escalator to the mezzanine level.
?“There’s something I have to take care of,” Mark told me, as we both pulled out our name badges and entered the Marketplace.
?“You aren’t going anywhere without me,” I told him.
?“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He reached out and gave my hand a squeeze.
?My heart fluttered. Crap, I had it bad.
?We approached the “YE OLDE MYSTERIOUS TOBACCO SHOPPE” booth. I stopped for a moment as we drew near.
?“What’s wrong?” Mark questioned.
?I frowned. “Nothing, just it’s odd that the first two words are so close together on that banner.”
?He shrugged. “Someone miscalculated when they painted it. C’mon.”
?We walked into the booth and there sat John Stewart.
?“You had me worried,” Stewart said. “I have a sale for that third pipe.”
?“Afraid the sale will have to be to me,” Mark said, and pulled out his wallet. “The police—”
?I shot an elbow in Mark’s ribs to make him look at me and gave him a small head shake to say “no.”
?“What’s this about the police?” Stewart grimaced.
?“They are…uh…looking for it,” Mark attempted. “But I left it in the podium the other night, and when I went there yesterday, it was gone. I think I lost it.”
?“Now, that’s a shame,” Stewart said. “Jeez, I feel bad. You using it in your speech helped me sell the other two.”
?“I can’t cheat you, John.” Mark offered a credit card.
?Stewart took the card and ran it through a small machine near him. It buzzed and crackled as he returned the card to Mark.
?“Well, I’m still gonna make sure you get something,” John prattled, and he reached behind his table and came out with a beautifully carved wood pipe.
?“That’s nice,” I said.
?The pipe had a forty-five degree angle bend but was not as big or impressive as the pipe Mark had at the lecture, but looked like something Mark could use for any future lecture—or smoke if the desire struck him.
?My father smoked a pipe. Gave it up years ago, but there was still something so masculine about the idea of Mark with a pipe. Then again, the mood I was in, anything Mark did seemed to excite me.
?“You can have this. I get them for a good price,” Stewart explained.
?“Thank you,” Mark responded.
?I glanced over his shoulder at the credit card slip. Three hundred and eighty dollars, plus appropriate New York State and city taxes. I swallowed hard as Mark signed the paper.
?Mark pocketed the gift pipe, and then we moved down the aisle in the convention room and headed toward the spot where the attendees and participants checked in.
?“There’s Jon Kane!” Mark announced, and pulled us in the direction of the tall figure.
?I watched Kane with an observant eye as we approached. He indeed was tall, and although his suit hid it, he looked fit. Was he strong enough to lift and carry Mark out of Candy’s room?
