ever been worried about anything or anyone.
“Quincy, I’m a mother. I know I’m not overly demonstrative, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you and your brothers, and now my grandsons. The day you left for California on that bus…”
She just left the sentence hang there as if her emotions were too close to the surface to go on. She took a deep breath and added, “Letting you get on that bus to come to LA was the hardest thing I ever did. You and I have never understood each other, but I have always loved you and with that kind of love there’s worry. I know you’ve worried about Hunter.”
“I have. I do.” I worried that he wasn’t eating, that he was getting into trouble, that… I worried about him constantly.
“I know I don’t show my emotions as well as you, and certainly not as well as Peri—”
I laughed as I interrupted. “No one wears their emotions as well as Peri.”
She offered me a ghost of a smile as she nodded her agreement. “But I love you and I wish you would have told me what was going on in your life.”
I’d known my mother for every one of my thirty-eight years, but I’d never seen her so open and emotional.
I took a page from Peri and hugged her. “I love you, Mom.”
She hugged me back. “I love you, too, Quincy.” She pulled back and walked toward my kitchen. “Now, come tell again. This time tell me exactly what happened.”
I did.
Then I told her about our current crisis.
“So, show me your white-board,” my mother requested. I knew it was a question because her voice went higher on the last word. But in reality it was an order. She was a doctor. Worse, she was a surgeon. She was accustomed to being obeyed.
I took her into Hunter’s room. She stared at it. “You’ve organized it well,” she said. “I can see your thought process. You’ve got an organized mind.” She said that in such a way I knew it was praise. Praise was something I didn’t receive from my mother often.
“Thank you.”
“This is what you used when you solved the murder?”
“Yes. Though the board didn’t really help me in that regards. I sort of lucked into it.”
“You may not have gone there because you knew the murderer was there but because you suspected there was a clue there. That means this worked. It’s like doing exploratory surgery. I go in looking for something. I tend to know where I’ll have a good chance of finding it, but I’m not sure about anything until the moment that I am sure. You organized the information and you went looking for the answers…and you found them. Maybe not where you thought, but you wouldn’t have found them at all if you hadn’t looked.”
That was actually the most convoluted thing my mother had ever said, but I knew exactly what she meant. “Thank you.”
“So, where are you looking with the forgeries?”
“I’ve talked to two of the clients. I have one more to talk to. I’m hoping I find someone who had access to all three houses.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll just keep going over the information and adding anything new I find.”
My mother stared at my board. “These homes have security. Maybe you should check with them. See if there were any anomalies in the last few months. Any reasons why the security companies came out, even if they didn’t find a problem.”
That was a brilliant idea. “Mom, if you ever decide to give up surgery, I think you may have found your new career. Dick will be so impressed.”
“Just be careful. Though I have to confess, chasing after an art forger has to be safer than chasing after a murderer.”
“Let’s hope,” I agreed.
Chapter Five
We—by we I mean me and Dick, still impersonating an insurance investigator—checked on the first of the two different security companies. It hadn’t had any security blips.
Here’s the weird thing, my mother, the professional doctor type person, went all geeky fan-girl over my writing mentor, Dick Macy. I
“Quincy, I’m a mother. I know I’m not overly demonstrative, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you and your brothers, and now my grandsons. The day you left for California on that bus…”
She just left the sentence hang there as if her emotions were too close to the surface to go on. She took a deep breath and added, “Letting you get on that bus to come to LA was the hardest thing I ever did. You and I have never understood each other, but I have always loved you and with that kind of love there’s worry. I know you’ve worried about Hunter.”
“I have. I do.” I worried that he wasn’t eating, that he was getting into trouble, that… I worried about him constantly.
“I know I don’t show my emotions as well as you, and certainly not as well as Peri—”
I laughed as I interrupted. “No one wears their emotions as well as Peri.”
She offered me a ghost of a smile as she nodded her agreement. “But I love you and I wish you would have told me what was going on in your life.”
I’d known my mother for every one of my thirty-eight years, but I’d never seen her so open and emotional.
I took a page from Peri and hugged her. “I love you, Mom.”
She hugged me back. “I love you, too, Quincy.” She pulled back and walked toward my kitchen. “Now, come tell again. This time tell me exactly what happened.”
I did.
Then I told her about our current crisis.
“So, show me your white-board,” my mother requested. I knew it was a question because her voice went higher on the last word. But in reality it was an order. She was a doctor. Worse, she was a surgeon. She was accustomed to being obeyed.
I took her into Hunter’s room. She stared at it. “You’ve organized it well,” she said. “I can see your thought process. You’ve got an organized mind.” She said that in such a way I knew it was praise. Praise was something I didn’t receive from my mother often.
“Thank you.”
“This is what you used when you solved the murder?”
“Yes. Though the board didn’t really help me in that regards. I sort of lucked into it.”
“You may not have gone there because you knew the murderer was there but because you suspected there was a clue there. That means this worked. It’s like doing exploratory surgery. I go in looking for something. I tend to know where I’ll have a good chance of finding it, but I’m not sure about anything until the moment that I am sure. You organized the information and you went looking for the answers…and you found them. Maybe not where you thought, but you wouldn’t have found them at all if you hadn’t looked.”
That was actually the most convoluted thing my mother had ever said, but I knew exactly what she meant. “Thank you.”
“So, where are you looking with the forgeries?”
“I’ve talked to two of the clients. I have one more to talk to. I’m hoping I find someone who had access to all three houses.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll just keep going over the information and adding anything new I find.”
My mother stared at my board. “These homes have security. Maybe you should check with them. See if there were any anomalies in the last few months. Any reasons why the security companies came out, even if they didn’t find a problem.”
That was a brilliant idea. “Mom, if you ever decide to give up surgery, I think you may have found your new career. Dick will be so impressed.”
“Just be careful. Though I have to confess, chasing after an art forger has to be safer than chasing after a murderer.”
“Let’s hope,” I agreed.
Chapter Five
We—by we I mean me and Dick, still impersonating an insurance investigator—checked on the first of the two different security companies. It hadn’t had any security blips.
Here’s the weird thing, my mother, the professional doctor type person, went all geeky fan-girl over my writing mentor, Dick Macy. I
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