she thought, and tried again. âYou do a lot of traveling, acquiring and selling antiquarian books. It must be fascinating.â
âI like it.â
Roger leaped into the awkward pause. âI donât know what Iâd do without Doug. Canât get around like I used to. Heâs got a feel for the business, too. A natural feel. Iâd be retired and boring myself to death if he hadnât taken up the fieldwork.â
âIt must be satisfying for both of you, to share an interest, and a family business.â Since Doug looked bored by the conversation, Lana turned to his grandfather. âWell, Roger, since youâve blown me off, again, Iâd better get back to work. See you at the meeting tomorrow night?â
âIâll be there.â
âNice meeting you, Doug.â
âYeah. See you around.â
When the door closed behind her, Roger let out a steam-kettle sigh. â âSee you aroundâ? Thatâs the best you can do when youâre talking to a pretty woman? Youâre breaking my heart, boy.â
âThereâs no coffee. Upstairs. No coffee. No brain. Iâm lucky I can speak in simple declarative sentences.â
âGot a pot in the back room,â Roger said in disgust, and jerked a thumb. âThat girlâs smart, pretty, interesting and,â he added as Doug moved behind the counter and through the door, âavailable.â
âIâm not looking for a woman.â The scent of coffee hit his senses and nearly made him weep. He poured a cup, burned his tongue on the first sip and knew all would, once again, be right with the world.
He sipped again, glancing back at his grandfather. âPretty fancy piece for Woodsboro.â
âI thought you werenât looking.â
Now he grinned, and it changed his face from surly to approachable. âLooking, seeing. Different kettle.â
âShe knows how to put herself together. Doesnât make her fancy.â
âNo offense.â Douglas was amused by his grandfatherâs huffy tone. âI didnât know she was your girlfriend.â
âI was your age, she damn well would be.â
âGrandpa.â Revived by the coffee, Doug slung an arm over Rogerâs shoulders. âAge doesnât mean squat. I say you should go for it. Okay if I take this upstairs? I need to go clean up, head out to see Mom.â
âYeah, yeah.â Roger waved him off. âSee you around,â he muttered as Doug walked to the rear of the store. âPitiful.â
C allie Dunbrook sucked up the last of her Diet Pepsi as she fought Baltimore traffic. Sheâd timed her departure from Philadelphiaâwhere she was supposed to be taking a three-month sabbaticalâpoorly. She saw that now.
But when the call had come through, requesting aconsultation, she hadnât considered travel time or rush-hour traffic. Or the basic insanity of the Baltimore Beltway at four-fifteen on a Wednesday afternoon.
Now she just had to deal with it.
She did so by blasting her horn and propelling her old and beloved Land Rover into an opening more suited to a Tonka toy. The dark thoughts of the driver she cut off didnât concern her in the least.
Sheâd been out of the field for seven weeks. Even the whiff of a chance to be back in again drove her as ruthlessly as she drove the four-wheeler.
She knew Leo Greenbaum well enough to have recognized the restrained excitement in his voice. Well enough to know he wasnât a man to ask her to drive to Baltimore to look at some bones unless they were very interesting bones.
Since she hadnât heard a murmur about the find in rural Maryland until that morning, she had a feeling no one had expected them to be particularly interesting.
God knew she needed another project. She was bored brainless writing papers for journals, lecturing, reading papers others in her field had written for the same journals.