31 - There dwells a spirit, waiting to be released

Three days had passed since Merlyn and the detective came up with a logical motive for the murders that didn’t involve him. She had called at one point to say the police had indeed found the names of three persons who had shown an interest in buying the okimono figures from Alton and were checking them out. She told him they were still a long way from tying any one of them to the murders but she wasn’t giving up hope.

Other than her call, the only ones he’d received were from potential clients wanting him to create something for them. If he took every order he’d be busy for months if not for the next year. Somewhere along the line he knew he’d have to go in search of another agent but he still wasn’t ready to do that.

The one call he really wanted to get he didn’t. There was no word from Alan. It was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth. As morning slid into afternoon of the third day Merlyn was nearly frantic with worry. He couldn’t believe that the man who had said with such sincerity that he loved him would just walk away from what had seemed to be becoming a serious if still tentative relationship.

“Damn it Alan,” he growled as he threw himself into the beginnings of a new, life-sized sculpture of a nymph for one of his clients. He was so focused on his feelings of betrayal and loss that he brought the mallet down too hard and at the wrong angle on the pitching tool. A large sliver of marble flew off, striking his bare forearm. Swearing vehemently at the damage he’d done to the block of marble, more so than about the blood dripping from his arm, he hurled the tools across the studio. He heard the mallet hit the floor but the pitching tool struck something before it bounced off the far wall to land in a corner of the room.

By then his arm was bleeding freely so he barely took in the fact that the tool had cut through the canvas covering the statue Alton had so admired a few long weeks ago, hitting in the area of  the statue's thigh.

Hurrying downstairs he went into the bathroom to clean and bandage his arm. By the time he finished he was royally pissed at himself for being so upset that he’d made the stupid mistake that he had and then had a childish tantrum as a result.

“I need to get out of here. Away from… everything, at least for a few hours,” he admonished himself.

That decision made, he stripped out of his work clothes while trying to decide where to go and what to do. Suddenly an idea hit him. Quickly he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, knowing he could just be compounding the emotional mess he was in at the moment but still needing to do this.

Grabbing his wallet, cell and keys he left the house, locking up and setting the security alarm as he did. Moments later he was in his car, heading toward the highway out of town.