Birthright

plowed a fist into his throat.
    The woman turned and glanced at Callie, frowned. “Mr. Grogan? Are you all right?”
    “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Sorry, Terri, my mind wandered there. Be with you in just a minute,” he said to Callie.
    “It’s okay. I’ll just look around.”
    She scanned book titles, finding ones she’d read, others she wondered why anybody would read, and listened to the conversation behind her.
    “These are very nice, Terri. You know Doug or I would have come to appraise them for you.”
    “I thought I’d bring them in, let you make me an offer. Aunt Francie loved her books, but I’ve just got no place for them now that she’s gone. And if they’re worth anything, I could use the money.” She glanced back over her shoulder again, toward Callie. “What with work slowing down for Pete. This one here’s worth something, isn’t it? It’s leather and all.”
    “It’s what we call half-bound,” he explained, and tried not to track Callie’s every movement. “See here, the leather’s over the spine, then about an inch over the front and back. The rest of the binding’s cloth.”
    “Oh.”
    The disappointment on her face had him reaching out to pat her hand. “You’ve got some fine books here, Terri. Francie, she took care of them. And this Grapes of Wrath is a first edition.”
    “I didn’t think that would go for much. Cover’s torn.”
    “The dust jacket’s got some rubbing, a tear or two, but it’s still in very good condition. Why don’t you leave these with me for a few days, and I’ll call you with a price?”
    “Okay. I’d sure appreciate that, Mr. Grogan. The sooner you can let me know, the better. Tell Doug my Nadine’s asked after him.”
    “I’ll do that.”
    “Nice to have him back in town. Maybe he’ll stay this time.”
    “Could be.” Wanting her gone, he started around the counter, prepared to walk her to the door, but she wandered out of reach, toward Callie.
    “You with those archaeologist people?”
    Callie shifted. “That’s right.”
    “You look sort of familiar to me.”
    “I’ve been around for a few weeks.”
    She looked at the bruising under the curtain of bangs, but couldn’t find a polite way to ask about it. “It was my brother-in-law dug up that skull that started things off.”
    “No kidding? That must’ve been a real moment for him.”
    “Cost him a lot of work. My husband, too.”
    “Yes. It’s hard. I’m sorry.”
    Terri frowned again, waited for some argument or debate. Then she shifted her feet. “Some people around think the place is cursed because you’re disturbing graves.”
    “Some people watch too many old movies on Chiller Theater. ”
    Terri’s lips quirked before she controlled them. “Still and all, Ron Dolan’s dead. And that’s a terrible thing.”
    “It is. It’s shaken us all up. I never knew anyone who was murdered before. Did you?”
    There was just enough sympathy, just enough openness to gossip in Callie’s attitude to have Terri relaxing. “Can’t say I did. Except my grandson goes to preschool three days a week with the Campbell boy, and his daddy was shot dead in a convenience-store robbery up in Baltimore. Poor little thing. Makes you stop and think, doesn’t it? You just never know.”
    She hadn’t known that, Callie realized with a jolt. She’d spoken with Lana about intimate details of her own life, but she hadn’t known how she’d been widowed. “No, you don’t.”
    “Well, I got to get on. Maybe I’ll bring our Petey out to see that place y’all are digging up. Some of the other kids’ve gone by.”
    “Do that. We’re always happy to show the site, to explain what we’re doing and how we do it.”
    “You sure do look familiar,” Terri said again. “Nice talking to you anyway. Bye, Mr. Grogan. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
    “A day or two, Terri. Best to Pete now.”
    Roger waited until the door shut. “You handled her very well,” he said.
    “Maintaining friendly relations with locals is part of the job description. So.” She gestured to the cardboard box, and the books spread on the counter. “Does she have anything spectacular?”
    “This Steinbeck is going to make her happy. It’ll takeme a while to go through the rest. I’m going to put the Closed sign up, if that’s all right with you.”
    “Sure.”
    She slid her hands into her back pockets as Roger walked to the door, flipped the sign, turned the locks. “Ah, Doug asked me if I’d come