He started the engine with a frown. “I don’t smoke.”
“I don’t either,” she said glumly. “Anymore, anyway. But you’d have trouble lighting this. It’s beef jerky. Good field food. Doesn’t spoil. And surprisingly, overrides the taste that’s been in my mouth all day.” She shrugged. “Temporarily, anyway.”
He took one of the sticks. “Thanks.”
As he munched, she dug into her pocket again, this time pulling out a drink box, like his nephews packed in their lunchboxes. He glanced over and made a face when the letters on the label registered. “Chocolate milk? With beef jerky?”
She stabbed the box with a little straw. “Calcium’s good for the bones. Want one?”
“No,” he said firmly. “That’s gross, Dr. Johannsen.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.” She paused deliberately. “Vito.” She stared out the window as she sipped. When she was done, she put the box in a baggie, sealed it, and put it back in her pocket.
“So your field jacket serves as a trash receptacle, too?”
She glanced at him, embarrassed. “Habit. Can’t be leaving litter around the dig.”
“So what other foodstuffs do you keep in your pockets?”
“A couple of Ho Hos, but they’re a little squashed. They still taste good, though.”
“You like chocolate, I take it.”
“Duh.” She looked wary. “Don’t tell me you don’t. I was just starting to like you.”
He laughed and the sound surprised him. He hadn’t thought he had enough energy left to laugh. “I can take it or leave it. But my brother Tino, he’s an addict. Milk, dark, white, chocolate chips to Easter bunnies, Tino inhales it.”
She was smiling at him and once again he found himself mesmerized. Even with eyes red from crying, she drew him. “You have a brother named Tino? Really?”
He forced himself to focus on driving. “I have three brothers, but you have to promise not to laugh.”
Her eyes were laughing even as she firmed her mouth sternly. “I promise.”
“My older brother is Dino and my two younger brothers are Tino and Gino. Our sister is Contessa Maria Teresa, but we just call her Tess. She lives in Chicago.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m not laughing. I’m not even going to make any Mafia jokes.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly. “What about you? Any family in the area?”
She went still and he knew he’d touched a nerve. “Just my grandmother and my uncle Harry. And my aunt Freya, of course.” She’d added her aunt almost in afterthought. “And a few assorted cousins, but we’ve never been close.” She smiled again, but it was wistful. “Sounds like your family is. Close, that is. That’s nice.”
She sounded lost and once again his heart squeezed. “It is nice, although at times it’s very noisy. My family’s in and out of my house like Grand Central Station. Tino actually rents the apartment in my basement, so he’s a permanent fixture. There are some times I pray for silence.“
“I think if you truly had silence, you’d wish for noise,” she murmured.
He stole another look at her. Even in the darkness of the cab he could see the weary loneliness on her face, but before he could say a word she straightened her spine and dug into her pockets for more beef jerky.
“How long before I don’t taste… that anymore?” she asked.
“Hopefully in a few hours. Maybe by tomorrow.”
“You want another one?”
He grimaced. “No thanks. You wouldn’t happen to have a burger or fries in one of those pockets, would you?” he added lightly and was relieved when she smiled at him.
“Nope. But I do have a cell phone, a camera, a compass, a box of paintbrushes, a ruler, two emergency flares, a flashlight, and… a box of matches. I can survive anywhere.”
He found himself chuckling. “It’s a wonder you could walk. Your coat must weigh fifty pounds.”
“Close. I’ve had this coat for a lot of years. I hope I can get it clean.” Her smile faded and the haunted look returned. “L’odeur de la mort,” she said quietly. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but no words came, so he said nothing at all.
Sunday, January 14, 11:15
P.M.
Vito stopped his truck in front of the funky ape sculpture. “Dr. Johannsen.” He gently shook her shoulder. “Sophie.”
She woke with a jerk and in her eyes he saw an instant of disoriented fear before she realized where she was. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. I wish I could have.”
Shaking herself to full attention, she was out of his truck before he could come around to help her. But her shoulders sagged. He took the two small cases from behind her seat. “You go on up and open the door. I’ll carry these.”
“Normally I carry my own gear, but tonight I’ll say thank you.” He followed her up to the door, remembering earlier this afternoon, the long look they’d shared. Her hands faltered as she unlocked the front door and he hoped she was remembering it, too. But she opened the door without mishap this time and flipped on a light switch. “You can leave the cases there. I can get them downstairs myself.”
“Just show me where to put them, Sophie,” he said. “And I’ll go get the other two.”
There was a fine line between independence and stubbornness, Vito thought as he went back to his truck for the two big cases. It seemed Sophie Johannsen walked the sensible side, although he suspected it was only out of sheer exhaustion. She’d allowed him to take the small cases to a basement storeroom, but was adamant that she had to clean the equipment tonight.
He took the two big cases from the back of the truck and set them on the sidewalk. He had no idea how long cleaning the equipment would take, but the campus was deserted and he sure as hell wasn’t leaving her here alone. Besides, there were way worse fates than watching Sophie Johannsen, so he’d wait as long as he needed to.
He looked down at his muddy boots. If he had to wait, he could at least be comfortable. Reaching behind his seat, he felt for his shoes-and once again came up with the roses. They gave him pause. At least this time they hadn’t pricked him.
He’d bought them for the woman he once thought he could love forever, who died two years ago. Today. He’d waited two years. Surely that was long enough. But…
Vito sighed. He was attracted to Sophie Johannsen. No man with a pulse wouldn’t be. But it wasn’t the attraction that was bothering him. It was the need he’d felt all day, at the field, in the truck. He’d watched her work and weep and she made him want. Maybe all that sudden yearning was because it was today. He didn’t want to think so, but Vito was a careful man. He’d pushed a relationship once before and the results had been disastrous. He didn’t make the same mistake twice.
Vito tossed the roses behind the passenger seat and changed into his shoes. He’d take Sophie home, then come back in a few weeks and he’d see if she still made him want. If she did, and if she felt the same, nothing would hold him back.
“I thought you’d gotten lost,” she said when he put the two big cases down inside the storeroom. She was bent over a worktable, scrubbing one of the pieces with a toothbrush. “This could take a while. Go home, Vito. I’m fine here.”
Vito shook his head. The reason he’d picked her up at the college in the first place was because she didn’t have a car. She rode a bike, Katherine had said. He wasn’t about to let her ride her bicycle home at this time of night after working all day. “No, I’ll see you home safely. It’s the least I can do,” he added when her mouth set stubbornly. He tried a different tack. “Look, I’ve got a sister and I’d want somebody to see her home.” Her green eyes narrowed as she shot a look of annoyed reproach, so he fell back on the tried and true with a sigh. “I’m tired. Don’t argue with me. Please.”