Page 43 of The Grave Artist

After a few more questions, they said goodbye and Carmen disconnected.

“‘Pedar,’” she said to Heron. “Clever. But also sad kids have a word for it.”

“Don’t get me started on the subject of sexual intrusion. We’d be here all day.”

“Well, what do you think, Heron? What the hellwashe interested in? He approached her for some reason.”

“Agree it’s significant but, as my colleagues in academia would say, I’m lacking sufficient data to form a hypothesis.”

She knew Heron was avowedly anti-speculation. He never made a decision or offered an opinion without a basket full of data points.

As they walked back to the cemetery, Carmen frowned. “Heron?”

“What’s that?”

“How the hell did he know you or Frank were coming here to interview that girl? Only one answer.”

And Heron provided it: “He’s been watching us. It’s not just honeymooners he’s after. We’ve made it onto his hit list too.”

Chapter 22

Eric,

Good news from the Eastern Front! Have had some chin-wags with the powers that be, and it looks like Congress is on our side. Going to move forward with I-squared. Make it official. Assume you want to keep your present status as lead, so they’ll need some signatures.

Somebody is coming by your office today. Can hardly believe they want to move as fast as we do.

Lots of chatter about your recent big win!

Congressional Liaison in LA will be in touch.

BTW: One can complain about pollution in the City of Angels, but did you know that Washington DC literally was a swamp once! And I’m not speaking of politicians and lobbyists. Ha.

Thanks, Eric. Talk soon.

SR

Eric Williamson read the text once more—yes, the highly encrypted text. Stan Reynolds had indeed learned his lesson about security from Heron.

So it was going to happen.

“All right, Eric, what’s that Cheshire grin all about?”

Williamson looked up from his desk to see his assistant in the doorway. Destiny Baker wore a perfectly shaved buzz cut that emphasized a perfectly shaped head and face, and the smile was remarkable, set off by the stunning crimson hue of her lipstick.

“I wasn’t smiling.”

“You weren’t frowning and for you that’s a smile.”

Williamson had no problem with her quirky nature. Baker set the standard for personal assistantness.

“Looks like it’s happening.”

She blinked. “My God. Official?”

“Official.”

“So I don’t have to start an online Etsy business to make ends meet?”