Part 6 (1/2)
Five minutes later Suter stepped out the front door and thanked Mrs. Gonzales. She leaned out to wave good-bye to Bohannon. Her dejected husband had already made his way to the backyard.
Bohannon pointed his key fob at his car and unlocked it.
”Let's call it a day. Can you drop me off at my hotel? We'll regroup tomorrow morning out at the hangar. Pirelli texted me a while ago and says you've been approved to work with us for the duration. He wants to read you into some more details about the case.”
”Details? What kind of details?”
CHAPTER 9.
DESPITE HER MOTHER'S protestations to rest after Abby had dropped her off, Mara worked on the rototiller Diana used to turn soil in her organic vegetable-and-herb garden. Sitting cross-legged on the covered back porch, Mara had splayed parts of the device in a fan pattern on the floor in front of her, inspecting and working on each in turn. Only the handlebars, frame and tines were recognizable to Diana as she stepped out onto the porch.
”Remember the first time I took this apart?” Mara asked, waving a piece of carburetor.
”Yes, you were eight. Grandpa had dropped it off the day before, and you were obsessed with it.”
”You had a major meltdown when you caught me.”
”What do you expect? Normal eight-year-old girls play with dolls and stuffed animals. They don't take tillers apart. You were covered with grease, and there were parts all over the place. I had to till manually that year.”
”Only because you wouldn't let me put it back together.”
”Who knew you were such a grease monkey? You eventually got it fixed.”
”I had to break into the shed to do it. For years you thought Grandpa had rea.s.sembled it,” Mara said. ”Come out to give me a hand?”
”No, I've got some lentil soup and that bread you like on the table. Come on in and eat. You can work on that later. I won't be tilling for weeks yet.”
Mara walked into the kitchen drying her hands with a towel, which she threw over the back of her chair before sitting at the round dinette table set off in a small alcove. Diana ladled soup into her bowl, pa.s.sed the breadbasket and sat down. She reached across the table and grasped Mara's chin with two fingers and tilted her head trying to get a look at the injury near her temple.
”It looks like that is healing quickly. How are you feeling?”
Mara pulled her chin away. ”I feel fine. It doesn't hurt anymore, and I've been clearheaded since I woke up.”
”Still you should take it easy, just in case.”
”I've been taking it easy in the hospital for nearly a week. I'm ready to start moving around a bit. To tell you the truth, I'm feeling kind of antsy. Abby and I are going biking with Bruce tomorrow. He's going to give us a tour of some of the trails we've not been on.”
”Mara, you just got out of the hospital. I don't think it's a good idea-”
”We're going to take it easy. Almost all of it is flat paved bike paths. I'll be wearing a helmet, and we won't even be on the roads most of the time. Bruce knows what he's doing. You remember Bruce, the bicycle mechanic at the shop, Mr. Mason's grandson? I promise to be careful.”
”I just wish you would slow down long enough to absorb what has happened to you.”
”I can absorb just fine while I'm pedaling.”
”Well, make sure you charge up your phone and take it with you, just in case.”
”Deal.” She scooped up some lentils, stopped lifting her spoon halfway to her mouth. ”Oh, I was thinking about that medallion or whatever it is we found in my pocket. Do you know anyone who can give me some pointers on how to repair it? I figured since it has crystals, you might know a New Age jeweler or metallurgist or something.”
”That's not like you, to want to engage with my friends.”
”I don't want to engage. It's more like a contract job.” She slurped loudly. ”Just business. No hinky hoodoo let-me-feel-your-chakra stuff.”
”You sound like your father, and I'm not only talking about the slurping. Just because you don't understand something doesn't mean you should belittle it. You expect me to ask someone to help you while you make fun of them behind their back?”
”Sorry. I'll be good.”
”Thank you. I really wish you would be a little more open-minded. Everything in Heaven and Earth isn't built with gears and powered by batteries.”
”Mom, I said I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you wound up. You got someone in mind?”
”I think so, but you need to be respectful.”
”Mom, I got it. I'll keep the ridicule to a minimum.”
”You'll keep the ridicule to yourself or no deal,” Diana said. ”And don't leave that bath towel in my kitchen when you get up.”
Diana heard Ned Pastor's truck pull up out front, and she turned on the porch light for him. She then turned to Mara and gave her a stern ”be good” look.
”As long as he doesn't try to read the b.u.mps on my head, I'll be cool.”
Ned was a tall lanky man who could have been anywhere between sixty-five and eighty years old. Wiping rain from his flannel s.h.i.+rt, he stepped into the living room with the stride and presence of a much younger man.
”I hear you have something you want me to see.” He looked at the old DVD carrying case in which Mara had placed the medallion. She opened it and handed the copper piece to him.
Ned accepted it, rotating it in his palm, feeling the texture of the etching with the pad of his thumb and finally flipping it over to look at the back. He was intense in his examination. After a few minutes, he said, ”This is a unique piece. It radiates...something. Where did you get it?”
”We found it in my pocket when I was taken to the hospital after the crash,” Mara said.
”Do you know what it is used for? It isn't jewelry. It looks like a compa.s.s or a sundial, but the markings are unfamiliar,” he said, still turning it over in his hands.
”I don't know that it's used for anything. I a.s.sumed it was ornamental.”
”It obviously was in a fire. It got burned in the plane crash?”
”Again I would a.s.sume so.”
He placed the medallion between his palms, closed his eyes and tilted his head upward. He appeared to be meditating.