Page 119 of The Bone Hacker

“What noise?”

“A sort of high-pitched keening?”

I heard motor sounds. Emmylou Harris singing about two more bottles of wine.

“No,” I said. “What is it?”

“My heart breaking for you.”

“Why are you calling? And why did you call last time?”

“I want to know if you and your lovely daughter will join us in Texas for Thanksgiving.”

“What do you have in mind?” While Harry has sundry talents, cooking is not among them.

“A surprise.”

“I’ll talk to Katy.”

“How goes it with the serial killer?” She seemed genuinely concerned.

“The main suspect may have alibied out, but the cops are running a new lead.” No need to mention Musgrove’s murder and Monck’s assumption of duties as head detective.

“What areyoudoing?”

“I’ve finished with the bones, so right now I’m sitting on my ass.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Sit on your ass.”

“Thanks for the input.”

“There must be some other bitsy part you can play.”

“Maybe.” I told her about the fragment and the need of a Hebrew translation.

“You know lots of Jews.”

“Not here in Provo.”

Harry thought a moment. The sound of her gum chewing set me on edge.

“Is there a synagogue on the island?” she asked.

“I called. The rabbi’s wife declined to get involved in a police matter.”

“Go anyway. What can she do, shoot you?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think about Thanksgiving.”

“Will do.”

I wouldn’t. Harry’s plans would change a dozen times between then and November.

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