Throwing back the quilt, I grabbed the phone and hit autodial 5. The miracle of modern communication.
A hundred miles north of the forty-ninth parallel, a phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
I was about to disconnect when a machine answered. Ryan’s voice invited a message in French then English.
Satisfied? The cerebral something smirked.
My thumb moved toward the “end” button, hesitated.
What the hell.
“Hi. It’s Temp—”
“Did I wake you?”
“I screen all calls.”
“Oh?”
“Cruise and Kidman split. It’s just a matter of time until Nicole starts ringing.”
“You wish, Ryan.”
“How’s it going on the mudflats?”
“We were in the highlands.”
“Were?”
“We’ve finished digging. Everything’s at the lab in Guatemala City.”
“How many?”
“Twenty-three. Looks like mostly women and kids.”
“Rough.”
“It gets rougher.”
“I’m listening.”
I told him about Carlos and Molly.
“Jesus, Brennan. Watch your butt down there.”
“It gets rougher still.”
“Go on.” I heard the sound of a match, then exhaled air.
“The local gendarmerie think they have a serial operating in Guatemala City. They requested my help with a recovery.”
“There’s no local talent?”
“The remains were in a septic tank.”
“I’ve done one or two.”
“How did that pearl float to Central America?”
“I am
“Curriculum vitae posted on the Web?”
Could I tell him about the ambassador’s missing daughter? No. I’d promised Galiano full confidentiality.
“A detective saw one of my
A long exhalation. I pictured smoke blasting from his nostrils like steam from a fun-house dragon.
“Besides, there’s the possibility of a Canadian connection.”
As usual, I felt I was justifying my actions to Ryan. As usual it was making me churlish.
“And?”
“And today we recovered a skeleton.”
“And?”
“I’m not sure.”
He picked up on something in my voice.
“What’s eating you?”
“I’m not sure.”
