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“What camera crew would be stupid enough to take that duty?”
“Good point.”
Kendra was waiting with the Cadillac, Zoltán occupying most of the backseat. He caught sight of Remi and let loose a delighted bark as his tail beat the seat back like a spirited metronome. Remi’s heart soared when she saw his chocolate eyes trailing her.
“Who’s my big, brave boy?” she called, arms outstretched. He vaulted out and ran to Remi and then waited, trembling, as she knelt and hugged him.
Sam waved him away. “No, no, spend the time with her, not me. I just buy your food. No need to make a fuss on my account.”
Remi rolled her eyes. “You’re jealous!”
“I am not. Okay, maybe a little bit. He’s got better hair than me. There. I said it.”
“He’s a Hungarian charmer. I’ve always been a pushover for those.”
“Serves me right for being born in California.”
“Don’t worry. Surfer boys are my other vice.”
Kendra filled them in on the research as they wove their way through the early-morning traffic to La Jolla. “We’ve compiled an entire dossier on possible items of interest that involve anything that hints at contact with Europeans, pre-Columbus,” she began, “but it’s a fuzzy target. So much of their history is oral traditions that were garbled, or changed by the Spanish. So there’s no telling what’s invention or what’s true. I’m afraid it’s going to be good old-fashioned midnight-oil burning to make sense out of any of it. And believe me, there’s a mountain of data.”
“We’ve got nothing planned except digging through it,” Remi said, “so that’s not a problem. How’s Selma?”
“She’s resting at the house. She really wanted to come greet you, but I told her that would make me too nervous.”
“So she’s up and around?”
“Sort of. I don’t think she’s going to be a hundred percent for a while.”
“That’s not unexpected,” Remi said. “I know they tell you to figure on at least six months to be fully recovered.”
“It’s got to be frustrating,” Sam said. “I know how much she enjoys being in the thick of it.”
Kendra nodded. “Let’s just say that she’s a difficult patient. That’s what the doctors said. ‘Feisty’ was actually the word they used most often.”
Remi smiled. “No doubt.”
Kendra led the way into the house, followed by Zoltán and Remi, Sam bringing up the rear. Inside, Selma was sitting and sipping tea, her walker next to her. Zoltán let out a greeting woof.
“Welcome home,” Selma said, smiling.
“Selma. How are you?”
“Oh, you know, always in the fight. I’ve got my trusty walker. But I do have to give in to the wheelchair every once in a while,” she admitted.
“The important thing is that you’re recovering.”
“I wish it wouldn’t take so long. I’m really tired of being so dependent.”
“Kendra has helped out wonderfully,” Sam said, “and we’re between adventures, so you aren’t missing anything.”
Remi nodded. “That’s right. We’re here for the duration. You just need to focus on your physical therapy and getting better. Don’t worry about playing mother hen with us. We’re in good hands,” Remi assured her, glancing at Kendra.
“I’ll try, but it’s become something of a habit . . .”
Sam carried the bags up to their bedroom, and Remi joined him shortly after.
Remi paced in front of the glass wall that faced the blue Pacific beyond the terrace. “I just want Selma to take her time and not try to rush her recovery.”
