Page 77 of Threads of Kindness
“A long table,” Anita said.
Sunday chuckled. “You’re in luck—libraries are full of those. I’ll have one set up next to that sewing machine before Monday.”
CHAPTER 38
“They’re here!” Sam called from the second floor, where he and Jeff were supervising repairs to the bathroom. “They must’ve parked near Celebrations—they’re walking through the square.”
Anita inhaled deeply and pushed her shoulders back.
“Nervous?” Gordon asked.
She nodded. “After all the excitement … I’ll be disappointed if it’s only a tree root.”
“You’ll know in the next few minutes,” Gordon said gently.
He opened the front door to Maggie, who entered with a tall, thin woman in slim black trousers tucked into hiking boots, a heavy anorak, and a field bag slung across her shoulder. Dr. Fiona Locke pushed her hood back, revealing close-cropped, dark hair peppered with silver and aquamarine eyes that sparkled with excitement. “Anita Archer,” she said warmly, stepping forward. “And you must be Gordon Mortimer.”
“Dr. Locke,” Anita said, shaking her hand. “Maggie tells me you cut your trip short to return to Westbury. I’m sorry to put you to the trouble.”
“Are you kidding?” Fiona grinned. “I couldn’t get back here fast enough. A scientific conference doesn’t hold a candle to the possibility of an actual dig. And, please—call me Fiona.”
Anita twisted her hands together. “I just hope it’s the real deal. I’ll feel terrible if we wasted your time.”
“Don’t worry about that. You did the right thing calling us in before unearthing it yourselves. Better safe than sorry.”
“We’re grateful you reached out to the college,” Maggie added, smiling.
“Well,” Gordon said, “are you ready to take a look?”
Fiona nodded enthusiastically.
“The lighting in the basement is poor,” Anita warned as she led the way to the basement stairs. “Grab a flashlight from the basket by the door.” She and Gordon led Fiona and Maggie down the narrow basement steps.
“The floor is packed earth,” Anita said as she looked down at Maggie’s expensive pumps. “It’s still muddy in spots from when the pipe burst. Are you sure you want to risk those shoes?”
“You know me better than that,” Maggie said. “I’mnotleaving without seeing this for myself. I’ll clean the mud off later.”
They stepped into the basement, and Anita pointed to the rough opening in the plank wall. “It’s through there, on the left-hand side.”
Fiona hurried past her, moving carefully toward the corner. At the dig site, she dropped to her knees and set her field bag beside her. She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and retrieved a small brush, a soft cloth, and a magnifier from her bag.
Maggie stood behind her, leaning in to get a better look at the object protruding from the dirt.
“Would you shine a light on it as I work?” Fiona asked.
“Of course,” Maggie replied, training her flashlight on the object.
Fiona traced her gloved hand along the exposed length of the object, then brushed and wiped a patch clean. She leaned in close, examining the surface through her magnifying glass.
Anita, Gordon, and Maggie watched in breathless silence.
Fiona finally rocked back on her heels and looked up at them. The smile on her face told them what they wanted to know before she spoke.
“It’s real, all right,” she said. “I believe this is a mastodon tusk. The shape and texture are textbook. You can see the striations and age cracks. The surface is solid. You have abeautifulspecimen under here.”
Anita let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank goodness,” she whispered.
“Do you have any idea how old it is?” Gordon asked.
