“They’re really onto something, aren’t they?” a voice called out. Arthur jumped as his neighbor, Jim, stepped over the low hedge. Jim started helping him shoo the animals away with a few sharp whistles. As the dogs finally scattered, Jim lingered, his eyes narrowing as he caught a glimpse through the half-open shed door.
He spotted the glint of the brass helmet and the bloated, muddy shape of the antique suit lying across the tarp. “What the hell is that, Arthur? Looks like you dredged up a body,” Jim said, his tone half-joking but his eyes sharp with curiosity. Arthur’s face went hot, and he fumbled for the door handle. “Nothing, Jim. Just… just an old relic I found. Scrap metal, really,” he muttered. The explanation sounded hollow even to his own ears.
Jim didn’t push further, but he walked away slowly, glancing back at the shed with a look of deep suspicion.