watching fingers of sunlight change from yelow to orange to gray. The ocean was calm, a background symphony of swels roling gently to shore. Now and then a seabird caled out and another answered.
We finished with key lime pie as the gray turned to black.
Pete cleared the table, then we both put our feet on the railing.
"The beach suits you, Tempe. You're lookin' good."
Pete looked good, too, in his rumpled, tousled Pete Petersons way.
I repeated my earlier warning. "This isn't a date, Pete."
"I can't mention the fact that you look nice?" Al innocence.
Muted yelow lights were appearing in the houses lining the shore. Another day was checking out. Pete and I watched in silence, the salt breeze playing with our hair.
When Pete spoke again his voice had taken on a deeper tone.
"What I'm having a hard time remembering is why we split up."
"Because you're annoying as hel and spectacularly unfaithful."
"People change, Tempe."
Al responses to that seemed dumb, so I didn't make one.
"You ever think—"
At that moment my cel phone sounded. I dug it from my pocket and clicked on.
"How's the most beautiful woman on the planet?" Ryan.
"Good." I dropped my feet and did a half turn in my chair.
"Busy day?"
"Not bad."
"Any word on your skeleton?"
"No."
Pete served himself more of the Chardonnay, then waggled another Coke in my direction. I shook my head no.
Sounds slipped over the line. Or Ryan picked up on my reticence. "Is this a bad time?"
"I'm finishing dinner." A gul screamed overhead.
"On the beach?"
"It's a beautiful night." Dumb. Ryan knew my attitude toward dining solo. "Pete made a picnic."
Ryan didn't answer for a ful five seconds. Then, "OK."
"How's Lily?"
"Good." After another long pause, "I'l talk to you later, Tempe."
I was listening to dead air.
"Problem?" Pete asked.
I shook my head. "I'm going to turn in." I rose. "Thanks for dinner. It realy was nice."
"My pleasure."
I started up the boardwalk.
"Tempe."
I turned.
"When you're ready to listen, I'd like to talk."
I walked toward the house, feeling Pete's eyes on my back.
===OO=OOO=OO===
My late afternoon nap kept me up until wel past three.
Or was it agitation over Ryan's displeasure? Though I phoned several times, my cals went unanswered.
Was Ryan displeased? Was I being paranoid? He's the one who'd gone to Nova Scotia to visit Lily. Wasn't Lily's mother in Nova Scotia?
Whatever.
And what was bothering Emma? Saturday's caler had obviously not delivered good news. Was she in trouble over this cruise ship case?
Who was parked outside Anne's house early this morning? Dickie Dupree? He'd threatened me, but I hadn't taken him seriously. Would Dupree stoop to physical intimidation? No, but he might send somebody.
Could Dupree have something to do with the skeleton buried on Dewees? That seemed a stretch.
Had bacteria realy contaminated the iceman's bones? Five thousand years in the Alps and now he's snack food for microbes?
Why two spelings for ketchup? Catsup? And where did that name come from, anyway?
I tossed and turned for hours, then slept later than I'd planned on Monday.
By the time I got to the hospital it was after ten. Emma was there. So was the forensic dentist, a behemoth in a sweatsuit he must have picked up at a Kmart closeout.
Emma introduced him as Bernie Grimes.
Grimes's handshake was one of those you don't know quite how to handle. Too weak to grasp. Too clingy to slip.
Freeing my hand, I smiled at Grimes. He smiled back, looking like a silo in blue velour.
Emma had already wheeled the skeleton from the cooler. It lay on the same gurney it had occupied on Saturday, a large brown envelope covering the ribs. The dental X-rays were again spread on the light box.
Grimes led us through a point-by-point description of the morphological characteristics, oral hygiene, and entire dental history of CCC-2006020277. Smoker. Negligent brusher. Nonflosser. Filings. Untreated cavities and massive tartar buildup, hadn't seen
We finished with key lime pie as the gray turned to black.
Pete cleared the table, then we both put our feet on the railing.
"The beach suits you, Tempe. You're lookin' good."
Pete looked good, too, in his rumpled, tousled Pete Petersons way.
I repeated my earlier warning. "This isn't a date, Pete."
"I can't mention the fact that you look nice?" Al innocence.
Muted yelow lights were appearing in the houses lining the shore. Another day was checking out. Pete and I watched in silence, the salt breeze playing with our hair.
When Pete spoke again his voice had taken on a deeper tone.
"What I'm having a hard time remembering is why we split up."
"Because you're annoying as hel and spectacularly unfaithful."
"People change, Tempe."
Al responses to that seemed dumb, so I didn't make one.
"You ever think—"
At that moment my cel phone sounded. I dug it from my pocket and clicked on.
"How's the most beautiful woman on the planet?" Ryan.
"Good." I dropped my feet and did a half turn in my chair.
"Busy day?"
"Not bad."
"Any word on your skeleton?"
"No."
Pete served himself more of the Chardonnay, then waggled another Coke in my direction. I shook my head no.
Sounds slipped over the line. Or Ryan picked up on my reticence. "Is this a bad time?"
"I'm finishing dinner." A gul screamed overhead.
"On the beach?"
"It's a beautiful night." Dumb. Ryan knew my attitude toward dining solo. "Pete made a picnic."
Ryan didn't answer for a ful five seconds. Then, "OK."
"How's Lily?"
"Good." After another long pause, "I'l talk to you later, Tempe."
I was listening to dead air.
"Problem?" Pete asked.
I shook my head. "I'm going to turn in." I rose. "Thanks for dinner. It realy was nice."
"My pleasure."
I started up the boardwalk.
"Tempe."
I turned.
"When you're ready to listen, I'd like to talk."
I walked toward the house, feeling Pete's eyes on my back.
===OO=OOO=OO===
My late afternoon nap kept me up until wel past three.
Or was it agitation over Ryan's displeasure? Though I phoned several times, my cals went unanswered.
Was Ryan displeased? Was I being paranoid? He's the one who'd gone to Nova Scotia to visit Lily. Wasn't Lily's mother in Nova Scotia?
Whatever.
And what was bothering Emma? Saturday's caler had obviously not delivered good news. Was she in trouble over this cruise ship case?
Who was parked outside Anne's house early this morning? Dickie Dupree? He'd threatened me, but I hadn't taken him seriously. Would Dupree stoop to physical intimidation? No, but he might send somebody.
Could Dupree have something to do with the skeleton buried on Dewees? That seemed a stretch.
Had bacteria realy contaminated the iceman's bones? Five thousand years in the Alps and now he's snack food for microbes?
Why two spelings for ketchup? Catsup? And where did that name come from, anyway?
I tossed and turned for hours, then slept later than I'd planned on Monday.
By the time I got to the hospital it was after ten. Emma was there. So was the forensic dentist, a behemoth in a sweatsuit he must have picked up at a Kmart closeout.
Emma introduced him as Bernie Grimes.
Grimes's handshake was one of those you don't know quite how to handle. Too weak to grasp. Too clingy to slip.
Freeing my hand, I smiled at Grimes. He smiled back, looking like a silo in blue velour.
Emma had already wheeled the skeleton from the cooler. It lay on the same gurney it had occupied on Saturday, a large brown envelope covering the ribs. The dental X-rays were again spread on the light box.
Grimes led us through a point-by-point description of the morphological characteristics, oral hygiene, and entire dental history of CCC-2006020277. Smoker. Negligent brusher. Nonflosser. Filings. Untreated cavities and massive tartar buildup, hadn't seen
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