The Man in the Tree by Sage Walker

Author:Sage Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

20

Mena and Doughan

Doughan went to the window and scanned Mena’s courtyard as if it were enemy territory. He held his right hand behind his back, like a reverse Napoleon. “What about this boyfriend?” he asked.

“His name is Yves Copani. He’s an overqualified welder on David II’s miner crew. He’s an architect, among other things.”

“What other things?” Doughan began to pace, three steps from the window to the door and back again.

“He’s a sculptor and an acute observer of the influence of geometry and habitat on human interaction.”

“Is he a friend of yours?” Doughan found a water spot on Mena’s window and rubbed it away with his thumb.

“I met him the night Ryan was killed,” Helt said. “He came to ask how he could stay on board with Susanna.”

“But he’s on contract.”

* * *

“Yes, he is. I’ve seen some of his work.” A minor piece, worked the full height of the Petra cliff. “My advice to him was to take a portfolio to David II.”

“And what will be your recommendation to David II?” Doughan asked.

“I think we need him,” Helt said.

Doughan left the window and took the three steps back to the door. “That good, eh?” He opened the door for Mena.

“That good.”

“I think she’ll be all right,” Mena said. She walked past him and leaned down to the screen, which was frozen on a view of Susanna in half stride at the threshold of the opening door of the train. “Enough,” she told it. It went dark. Beside it, the untouched pastries waited on their tray. Doughan grabbed one. Mena handed him a napkin and rolled the stand to the back of the room. “I have no idea what she’ll tell Yves. Sit down, both of you.”

Helt did. Doughan went to the window again, munching baklava and lost in some private reverie far away from this room and its inhabitants. “Mena, you know her and we don’t,” Helt said. “I thought she was telling the truth, that she didn’t know she was being stalked. Do you?”

“Is that all the information you have about this stalking?” Mena settled herself in her chair. “Come back, Doughan. Stop fidgeting. You’re making me nervous.” Mena didn’t look nervous. She looked determined and patient and durable. The hollows under her eyes were deeper than Helt remembered. An inverted parenthesis of frown lines was beginning to show itself between her eyebrows, tiny lines. Helt’s fingers didn’t remember them, although they remembered tracing the silken wing of her eyebrow, the delicate softness of her temple. He didn’t remember seeing those lines in the harvest tent so long ago. Yesterday, when Elena was there. Mena’s relaxed calm seemed to be a veneer of determination and patience over what looked like crushing fatigue.

“That’s all,” Helt said. “I searched for captures that show Cash Ryan near her door, in groups, concerts or the bars and so forth. I looked for her near his quarters as well.”

“Really,” Mena said. “Near his quarters. I hadn’t thought about that. It had to be looked at.

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