Page 64 of Second Down Fake

“What?” I asked, eagerly sidling up beside him, ignoring the faint beat of pain against my skull. Diego had played sixty minutes of football and came out without complaint. I could work through a hangover.

We paid for our admission and walked into the antique shop. Around us, other visitors milled around, picking up t-shirts and cups as if they’d been placed directly in the gift shop rather than an art installation.

“Do I press it?”

I craned my neck to get a better view of the hole in the shelf, my shoulder bumping into Diego’s. Under the snow globe was an enticingly big red button. “Absolutely.”

Diego grinned and smacked the button. We jumped back as the shelf swung away from the wall. Diego’s eyes darted between the snow globe in his hand and the now-open trap door. “So, this is art?”

“It’s not naked juggling, but it’s pretty good, right?”

“Definitely better than naked juggling.” He placed the globe back on the shelf and held the door open while I ducked inside.

“Are you going to fit?” I teased, walking crouched to the ground through a small hallway until I reached a ladder.

“Barely.”

Behind me, Diego filled the hallway, his shoulders pressed to the walls and body curled into a ball as he shuffled closer. I stood up, grasping the rungs and pulling myself up. “You okay back there?”

“Never better. This place has a great view.”

I choked back a laugh before sending him a withering glance from the top of the ladder. He winked, and the heat in my stomach traveled up to my cheeks. I turned away. “Well, keep enjoying that view. I’m forging ahead.”

I pushed against the door at the top of the ladder. When it didn’t immediately give, I shoved against it with my shoulder, stumbling out into a control room.

My eyes adjusted from the bright fluorescent light that lined the hallway to the dimly lit control room.

“What the hell is this?” Diego asked as emerged from the ladder. He closed the door absently, eyes scanning the room.

“That’s part of the mystery.” I ran my hand along a control panel until I found a button I could press. “Don’t you love mysteries?”

His tanned face tinted pink. “Unless Jessica Fletcher pops out of a filing cabinet, this wasn’t the kind of mystery I was talking about.”

“Shockingly, I couldn’t find a single murder mystery dinner theater. So, let’s figure out why that weird antique store needs a control center.”

We picked through the building, unearthing little crumbs of a storyline that stretched from a dystopic shopping mall to an ancient colony to a psychedelic room with a mime.

Diego had been to Las Vegas dozens of times, hundreds maybe. Between games and travel, I imagined there wasn’t much of the strip he hadn’t mined. So, picking something new to him had been a challenge. Judging by Diego’s enthralled expression and near-constant hypothesizing about what story he had stumbled on, I’d picked right.

We walked down the stairs, Diego stopping every few feet to check under a picture frame or run his fingers under a shelf.

“I think you’ve found every secret hiding spot in this place,” I said, feigning exasperation. Despite my propensity for weird stuff, I’d lost interest in everything except Diego’s reaction to unearthing the mystery hours ago.

“I bet there are loads of stuff we missed. I think we’re heading back to the shopping mall. We should make another pass.”

I suppressed a groan. This had been my idea, after all.

“New room!” Diego crowed, pumping a fist. “I bet it’ll explain why there’s a wormhole in the flower shop.”

My eyes slid over the “new room,” past the tables and patrons to the wall of liquor. “Oh! It’s a bar!”

Diego frowned. “So, not part of the story?”

“We don’t know.” I linked my arm with his. “We need to go investigate.”

My stomach rumbled and a bit of liquor sounded like the perfect medicine for my lingering hangover. Two empty bar stools sat at the far side of the room. I took the one closest to the wall and Diego sat beside me, picking up the menu with a frown. “I’m not sure this is part of the story.”

“We won’t know until we have a drink. What if the bartenders are actually from the future and they have a message for us?” I teased.

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