Page 67 of Digging Up Love
Laughing, Caitlyn dusted off her hands. “This isn’t a field toilet ... though, yeah, we’d normally have one of those. It’s plaster-jacket day.”
Bridget finished cutting open a bag of plaster and closed her pocketknife, squinting up at Alisha. “We’re getting ready to prepare the big bones for transport back to Chicago,” she explained.
They’d left the largest fossils mostly covered until now to protect them. Today they were digging all around the large fossils, exposing them. Now they would wrap the fossils in toilet paper, then coat that in burlap strips dipped in plaster, which would harden and protect the specimens during transport.
“Gotcha. Well, here’s some lemonade, when you’re ready for a break.” Alisha patted the top of the cooler, then stood. “I’m headed out for a few hours.”
Quentin limited himself to a brief nod, his eyes trained on the powdery swirl of water and plaster. Even though they’d agreed to make a go of it, they didn’t need a repeat performance of the barn situation.
He ran a hand over curls long overdue for a trip to the barbershop. Good thing he and the crew were headed back home tomorrow for a holiday break. Alisha planned to spend the weekend with her sister, so they’d get time together outside Hawksburg, free from any run-ins with his colleagues or nosy townspeople.
Caught up in his musings, he didn’t notice the shadows that fell across the dirt until a voice said, “Dr.Harris? Dr.Reid?”
The reporter shoved the huge microphone back into his face, and Quentin took a deep breath. Just another lecture, no biggie. Bridget’s hair lifted in the hot breeze, tickling his neck, and she pulled it down to the other side, shooting him a smile.
“The fossils will need to be analyzed further before we know for sure. But based on our initial findings”—he lifted his chin toward the fossils awaiting plaster casting—“our preliminary guess is the bulk of the bones belong to a single dinosaur, from the Cretaceous period.”
“And, Dr.Reid, how does this find impact the future of paleontology?”
“Fossils being discovered in this state offers up a whole new realm of possibilities. We’ll be working with these findings for years to come, restructuring our view of the Cretaceous in this area.”
“Excellent, thank you, Dr.Reid. Dr.Harris.” The reporter turned to face the cameraman. “You heard it here first. Exciting possibilitiesbeing unearthed in the small town of Hawksburg, Illinois. And now, back to you in the studio, Liza.”
The bright lights switched off, and Quentin stepped back, rubbing his forearm over his sweaty brow. Dang, it was brutal out today, and the heat was fanning the flames of his rising panic.
The reporter was already striding away, but the cameraman shifted the camera off his shoulder. “You guys did great. Really well. You can look out for the interview tonight on channel five.”
As if they wanted to see an encore of the very publicity they’d been working to avoid. Teeth clenched, Quentin fished out his cell. He needed to get Dr.Yates on the phone.
“Quentin, we should call—” Bridget started to say, but he nodded and mouthed, “On it” and pointed to the phone at his ear. “Hi, yes. Lawrence?” He stepped a few paces away, toward the side of the house.
A dust plume approached, and Alisha’s beat-up car turned into the driveway, swerving onto the grass to pass the van. It rolled to a stop in front of the garage. She jumped out and jogged their way, but he turned his back, refocusing on Lawrence’s words.
“Was that a news crew who just left?” Alisha’s voice carried on the wind.
He looked over his shoulder and caught Bridget nodding. “Sure was. They ambushed us. Said we could give them an interview, or they’d go ahead and run a story based on hearsay.” She shoved her hands in her back pockets. “Do you have any idea who tipped them off?”
Quentin squinted toward Alisha, trying to catch her reply.
“Harris, are you listening?”
“I am, yes. Sorry.” He walked farther off, toward the dig, ignoring the grad students huddled at the edge of the pit, where they’d climbed to after finishing their part in the interview—sitting hunched over the fossils, pretending to work.
“Yes, we’re all set up to do the field jackets today and bring them back to the lab.”
“All right, Harris. Frankly, I’m surprised you were able to keep it under wraps this long. It was bound to come out sooner or later. Let’s meet after the holiday and talk next steps.”
“Sounds good.”
He rang off and strode back toward the house.
“Nothing we can do about it now.” Bridget raked a hand through her hair and shook it out. “We won’t know how bad it is until the segment airs.”
“Not too bad, I don’t think.” Both women turned toward him, and he rocked back on his heels with a shrug. “At least, Lawrence is handling it well.”
“Which was half the battle,” said Bridget.
“Exactly. But I am concerned about your family,” he told Alisha. “We really didn’t want to turn your yard into some kind of sideshow.”
