“Amazingly, we salvaged them all,” I said.
“Knocking ten dollars off the price helped,” Rachel added.
Beth nodded. “Thanks, guys. You were both great today.” She looked at me. “Any word on that kid they took to the hospital?”
Rachel surprised me by saying, “His name is D’Augie.”
“Doggie?”
“Yeah. But it’s not spelled that way. Anyway, I talked to the doctor. He’s going to be okay. He doesn’t need grafts or anything.”
“You ever figure out what he was doing in your fire pit?” Beth asked.
“Not a clue,” I said.
Beth covered her mouth and tried to suppress a yawn, gave up, and let it run its course without apology. “Okay, I’m done,” she said. “Love you guys.”
We said our goodnights and waited a few minutes for Beth to settle into her bedroom and close her bathroom door. When we heard the water running in Beth’s sink I handed Rachel the picnic basket and told her to turn it over.
“You see anything unusual?” I said.
She passed it back to me. “I’m really tired, Kevin.”
She started for the staircase.
“Rachel,” I said. “It’s important.”
She paused and frowned. “Can we do this tomorrow?”
“Ten seconds. I swear.”
“This has been the longest day ever. I hate waiting on people. I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”
I put my finger to my lips, signaling her to quiet her voice. I whispered, “You wanted to know what’s going on with Beth, right? Why she’s acting so weird?”
Her eyes lit up, and she walked over to me. “She’s got a guy? And what, they went on a picnic?” Rachel cocked her head, putting the pieces together. Her face broke into a wide grin. “Oh my God! Little Miss stick-up- her-ass is getting banged by some local yokel outdoors and passing him off as a sick friend! Who is it, someone we know?”
I was amazed how her mind worked. I motioned her to follow me back to the kitchen. I gave her the picnic basket and pointed to what I’d originally thought were random scratch marks.
“Look at these scratches closely,” I said, “and tell me what you see.”
Rachel gave me a skeptical look, but she squinted to bring the marks into focus. “It’s just a bunch of—wait, it looks like Roman numerals. Fifty-five, right?”
“So it would appear.”
“Beth’s boyfriend is fifty-five?”
I smiled. “Maybe she banged him fifty-five times and wanted to mark the milestone.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“I agree.”
Rachel frowned. “You’re an asshole.”
I arched my brows.
She continued. “You’re standing here, letting me go on and on, but telling me nothing. You know I’m tired and you’re deliberately wasting my time.”
I nodded. “Let me get right to it. I don’t think the L and V are Roman numerals.”
“You don’t.”
“Nuh uh.”
“But for some reason I’m supposed to give a shit why.”
“They’re initials.”
She thought about that a moment, then said, “Beth’s boyfriend?”
“If it is, it should be easy to find him,” I said. “Not too many people around here with a last name that starts with a V.”
She eyed me carefully. “But you don’t think it’s her boyfriend.”
“Nope.”
“Because?”
“These initials were scratched by a woman.”
“Uh, don’t freak when I tell you, but Beth’s a woman.” She saw me grinning and added, “Wait. How do you know these marks were made by a woman?”
“They were made by a fingernail.”
