It’s summer, so I decide to clear my head and walk the few blocks to work after breakfast with Mother at the Golden Pillar.
I should know better than to subject myself to her rantings before coffee. I will be thankful for the day when I don’t hear the words “Wanda’s certain victory” come out of her mouth again.
Bernie is back from his trip out west, and I, for one, am anxious to hear what he’s learned. Having not heard from officials there in some time, I am convinced they don’t have dedicated staff pursuing the body parts case, so perhaps he was able to advance it a bit or encourage them to. I know he met with several agencies in the towns where evidence was found.
I enter our offices and make a mental note to dial him as soon as I check in with Silas, but then I remember … mental health day for the man. Yes, we all need one of those, it’s true.
So I dial.
“Bernie! Welcome back!”
“Good to be back, Merc,” he says. “Wouldn’t want my stool at the Riverside to get cold or anything.”
“Right! So … how’d it go?
“Learned a lot,” he says. “More pieces to fit together than I realized.”
“Very cool,” I say. “Today’s not good as Silas isn’t around, but why don’t we connect tomorrow here in our offices. Say 9AM? We want to get Armand and Paul off our plates and get a game plan together for Carson.”
“Sure thing,” he says. “That’ll give me some time to get organized.”
I hang up the phone. Perhaps this is a mental health day for me, too.