Clive Cussler: The Eye of Heaven

“So, did you miss us?” Sam asked.

“Of course. The house isn’t the same when you’re not there,” Selma said.

“How’s Zoltán? Is he being a good boy?” Remi asked. Zoltán was their king-sized German shepherd, brought back from Hungary after one of their adventures involving Attila the Hun’s lost tomb.

“You know him. He doesn’t know how to be anything but good. Although you can tell he misses you, of course. Remi, you’re the love of his life. I really think if he could talk, your husband there would have a run for his money,” Selma joked.

“Hey. He’s a handsome beast, but I’ve got opposable thumbs,” Sam reminded, and everyone laughed good-naturedly.

When they pulled into the garage, Sam and Remi could hear Zoltán barking even with the car doors still closed.

Sam said, “You go ahead. I’ll bring up the rear with the bags. Sounds like your second love is going berserk. Better say hi before he tears the wall down.”

The garage door closed behind them, and Selma popped the trunk while Remi made for the entrance. When she opened the door and stepped into the connecting hall, Zoltán’s barking ceased, replaced by a low whine as his sensitive nose detected Remi’s presence. She entered the kitchen to find Zoltán sitting obediently, quivering with anticipation but too disciplined to rush her. She approached, got down on one knee, and gave him a long hug, and he reciprocated with a kiss and a nuzzle, in a kind of canine heaven to have the mistress of the house finally back, his lush tail sweeping the floor in a fan of joy.

Selma came in, followed by Sam with their luggage, and Zoltán whined again, his every dream now reality. Sam dropped the bags by the refrigerator doors and clapped his hands together, inviting Zoltán to him, and the dog gladly leapt forward. Sam scratched behind his ears, and Remi joined him, petting Zoltán, as Selma watched the reunion with a smile.

“Do you want me to take your stuff up to your room?” Selma asked.

Remi shook her head. “Sam will do it. After a week of loafing around, he could use the exercise.”

“That’s right. It was nothing but gin and donuts out on the water. I let Remi do all the hard work. Didn’t want to pull something or hurt myself,” Sam said.

Selma’s poker face didn’t twitch. “Well, then, if you don’t mind, I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Thanks for picking us up, Selma,” Remi said.

“No problem. All in a day’s work,” Selma said, and then retired to her suite.

Up in the master bedroom, Remi threw herself down on the king-sized bed with a sigh of happiness, Zoltán already curled up on the floor by the footboard.

“It’s good to be back,” Sam said. “And as an added bonus, the floor’s not rocking. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Relax. We’ve got nowhere to be.”

“Yeah, but the time difference has got me coming and going. I don’t know whether I should be having breakfast or a nightcap.”

Remi sat up. “Did Selma seem odd to you?”

“Odd? In what way?” Sam asked as he pulled off his shirt.

“I don’t know. Subdued. Maybe a little preoccupied.”

“Possibly. But didn’t you tell me she’s been having problems sleeping recently? I know I get kind of grumpy when I’m short on rest.”

“Kind of grumpy? More like a bear whose hibernation was disturbed.”

“Bears need ‘me time,’ too.”

“Maybe you should talk to her tomorrow. Ask her. As for me, I’ve got seven thousand miles of travel dust to hose off.”

“I didn’t see much dust inside the plane you wing us away on these days.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And soon, squeaky clean as a newborn.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Selma was already up, the rich aroma of coffee in the air, when Sam and Remi made it down to the research level of the house, where morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The Pacific’s calm blue spread before them like a lapis tapestry, and Selma was gazing out at the view.

“Good morning, Selma. How are you today? Sleep any better?” Remi asked as she poured herself a cup.

Selma turned, seemingly startled by their arrival, a troubled look on her face.

“Oh, Mrs. Fargo! No, I didn’t. I … I’m not good at some things, and I guess this is one of them …”

“Selma. What’s wrong?” Remi asked. And Sam joined her, both obviously concerned.

“I want you to promise you won’t overreact,” Selma said.

“Overreact to what?” Sam demanded, and then softened when Remi threw him a sharp look.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Selma muttered.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just grouchy in the mornings. You should know that by now. Just tell us what’s going on, Selma,” Remi coaxed.

“I’ve never said anything before, but my hips have finally gotten so bad that I have to have them both replaced.”

“Oh no, Selma. I’m so sorry to hear it,” Remi said.

Selma drew a long breath, as if steeling herself to dive off a cliff. “I went to the doctor about a week and a half ago, and they say I can’t put it off any longer.”

“Selma! Why didn’t you tell us? No wonder you haven’t been sleeping,” Sam said.

“I know I should have said something. But the timing is terrible. We’ve got so much going on, and you’re leaving in a couple of days. I just don’t want to let you down. You’re both so busy.”

“Nonsense, Selma. You’re one of the family.”

“When do they want to do this?” Sam asked.

“They’ve scheduled me for surgery in six days. At Scripps.”

“That’s one of the best in the country, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“We’re canceling our trip to Baffin Island, or at least postponing it, until you’re back in the saddle and recovered,” Remi said, her tone firm, moving to Selma and giving her a long hug.

“Oh no. That’s exactly what I don’t want. Please, just do what you planned to do. I would feel terrible if you canceled your trip. There’s nothing you can do, anyway.”

“Yes there is,” Sam replied. “I’ll arrange for the rehab equipment you need to be set up here. You can come home directly from the hospital and we’ll find the best physical therapist. You’ll have twenty-four/seven care if I have anything to say about this.”

They were interrupted by the bathroom door closing. A young woman with a severe haircut, dyed black with shocking-red highlights, wearing black jeans and an avocado T-shirt, stood looking at them all. Selma pulled away from Remi and cleared her throat.

“I was waiting to introduce everyone. This is my niece, Kendra Hollingsworth. I asked her to come over and meet you. She’s going to be helping out while I’m … in the hospital and recovering. Kendra? Come meet Sam and Remi Fargo.”

Kendra stepped forward and shook hands with Remi and then with Sam. He noticed that she had a tattoo on her neck and on the inside of her wrist, and a small twinkling dot on her nose — a piercing.

“Nice to meet you,” Kendra said, her voice demure.

“Likewise,” Sam said with a quick glance at Remi, whose face was impassive.

“Kendra recently graduated from USC and she’s got some time on her hands, so she graciously agreed to help out,” Selma said, aware of the slight tension in the room. “I’ve known her since she was a baby and she’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. And an amazing talent.”

“What did you major in, Kendra?” Remi asked.

“Computer science and history, a double major. I wanted to go for mathematics as well, but it was too heavy a load.”