The Bone Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

women, that’s all,” Addy said. “You’re mistaken, Tally. The pot’s almost a thousand years old. Think about it.”
    I slid my glass onto the counter and stood. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Seeing it . . . her . . . just spooked me. Sure. I’ll call her. She owns a shop on the Vineyard. We’ll chat, and I’ll feel about a million times better.”
    Shouts from outside in the hall. “What the hell . . .”
    Gert appeared at the door. “Hey! National Geographic’s here. And they’re makin’ a big brouhaha.”
    “Shit!” Addy said. “I forgot the Geographic people were coming today to look at her. They planned to do some filming.”
    “The governor said that was a bad idea,” Didi said.
    “His problem.” Addy waved at the cheeseclothed head. “Now they can’t anyway. They absolutely must not see her until we’re sure she an old Indian. I mean, I know she is, but I’ll feel better once Tally has talked to her friend. The magazine’s doing a piece on the skull, The Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Didi, me, the Ancient Ones. Cripes.”
    “I won’t talk to those people,” Didi barked.
    I slid off the stool. “I’ll go call my friend right now.”
    “Hurry up,” Addy shouted.
    I varoomed to my old office. Gert followed, and we closed the door. I began to shake.
    “Tal?” Gert rested her hand on my shoulder.
    “Nothing. It’s just settling in. A friend’s
head
is on Didi’s table. God, that head could be her twin. I swear.” I dialed The Native Arts on Martha’s Vineyard. A woman answered on the third ring, and I asked for Delphine.
    The voice was young yet authoritative. “I’m afraid Ms. Delphine isn’t here.”
    “This is Tally Whyte,” I said. “Are you Delphine’s daughter, Amélie, by any chance?”
    “No. Sorry. But I’m sure I can help you.”
    I looked at Gert and shook my head. “I’ve bought some pieces from your shop, and I’m a big fan of Delphine’s. She knows just what I love. Not that you’re not wonderful, but I really need to speak with Delphine.”
    “She’s on a buying trip out West. She left before Indian Market in August, and we don’t expect her back until November first.”
    “How about her cell?”
    “I’m sorry. We’re not allowed to give out private information.”
    November—a month and a half away. I remembered Delphine went on big buying trips in the fall. I wanted to scream. “November’s too late, I’m afraid. Um. How about
you
call her, tell her who called, and have her give me a ring?”
    A pause. Then, “I can do that. Sure.”
    I gave her my numbers—my cell, my home, and even Gert’s office. “This really is urgent,” I said.
    “I’ll do my best.”
    “I’m sure you will . . . ?”
    “Zoe.”
    “Thanks, Zoe. So when should I expect to hear?”
    “Later this afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest.”
    “No sooner, huh?”
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “But no. Like I said, I’ll try. But the coverage out there stinks. Sometimes Mrs. LeClerc is out of range until late at night. You know, the time difference.”
    I knew. The waiting would drive me batso.
    Time. Time. Time. It’s a river that flows north to south, yet parallel, too. At different speeds, no less. We were all sort of bobbing heads in the river. Dear God.
    Was that skull Delphine’s? Or was I crazy? It was only Didi’s construct, after all. Tweak it and the woman would be transformed.
    “Tal?
Tally!
”
    I looked up to see Gert frowning at me.
    “Sorry,” I said.
    She handed me a Diet Coke. “This should help.”
    “The only thing that’ll help is a phone call.” Shouting screeched through my former office door. “What the hell?”
    We flew down the hall to find Addy in the lobby getting screamed at by a man with wild hair, a blue hoodie, and an unfashionable mustache. Addy’s arms were crossed, and she remained patiently silent while Mr. Mustache gesticulated wildly with his arms.
    “Excuse me busting in?” I