Unspoken by Dee Henderson Page B

had settled at the kitchen table. “I figure most of tomorrow to get the photos taken, and then I’ll head to Chicago and get a plan put together for how to sell the coins. I’ll likely be back next week to begin hauling coins out.”
    She picked up her cheeseburger. “If you want boxes for shipping them, just let me know. Boxes and bubble wrap I can give you in abundance.”
    “I’ll take you up on that. And that’s it for coins tonight,” Bryce offered. “Question. Why do your dogs seem to prefer John?”
    Charlotte licked a smear of mustard off her thumb. “He’s presently walking around with bacon bits in his pocket, as if I don’t know he’s feeding them. He’s trying to get them to learn to bark on command, shake hands, and catch a Frisbee. Princess is cooperating; Duchess is just looking to mooch food. They are as much his dogs as mine. I’d say we share them. John’s home is a little farther to the east around Shadow Lake. He’s the person who gets called when something goes wrong anywhere at Graham Enterprises, so it’s easier for him to live nearby. My place in Silverton is about twenty minutes north of here, though I’ve been bunking here while I get Fred’s place squared away.”
    “You two have been friends a long time.”
    She slipped a finger around a chain she wore, tugged out dog tags and two worn keepsake medals. “He’s a genuinely nice guy. Military—can be a very dangerous guy if he doesn’t like a situation. I’d say I’m somewhere between a girlfriend and a kid sister, which means I am free to annoy him and tease, but I’m kind enough to know where his lines are, and I don’t cross them if I can help it. He’s done me a few big favors, and I’ve done him a couple in return over the years. John’s the guy I called when Fred Graham showed up on my doorstep saying he was my grandfather. John would like to marry my best friend Ellie Dance, and I’d love to see that happen one day, but she’s still thinking about it.”
    They ate for a while as Bryce absorbed that answer. “Reading between the lines, John would like you to slow down a bit. This job of dealing with the estate doesn’t have to be finished in the next few months.”
    “I’m not the kind who stops easily until a task is done. Then I will full stop for a long while.” She ate a fry, considered him. “Do you like being a businessman? Managing employees? Deciding the business direction? Dealing with the finances and the profit and loss?”
    “A company that isn’t showing a profit is a charity.”
    She smiled.
    “Sure. I like business,” he answered. “I like putting all the pieces together to get to a sale or to get a product finished. And I like people as a rule. Business has lots of them. Customers, suppliers, employees. There’s a sense of having accomplished something at the end of the day when you can open the doors of the store in the morning, buy and sell goods, close up at night, and most days have made a profit after your costs. It says you were a good manager. I like being good at something that matters to people—my employees like a steady paycheck and some job security.”
    “I wouldn’t have opened my store had you said no.”
    He wasn’t quite sure he believed her. “You went for the jugular, if you remember.”
    “I did. A necessity, but I’m not sure you’d appreciate why just yet.” She pushed back her plate. “With art it was a private studio and one person, me, although most of my work was done outdoors—the high school track meet, the park, a restaurant opening. I like to sketch life happening. It was just me, and sometimes I would have John in that equation to consider, but life was mine. Now I’ve got more employees than I care to think about, and business on a big scale. They know what they are doing, and my job right now is to not get in their way and mess things up, but I’ve decided I don’t like business. The responsibility of it.”
    “That’s why you are