First thing Davidson notices is that daytime in Kurtzville is slightlier busier than it was the night before-- a few folks are doing some antique business as he drives up the street.
He walks inside Maureen's store.
It was a small cramped store-- few pieces in the store were walking out the door with less than a grand going into Maureen's pocket and it didn't take long for Mark to start finding twenty and thirty thousand dollar pieces up there on the shelves. Presumably upon hearing the bell Maureen walked from the small backroom, flashing him a smile that warmed him up right quick.
He was home.
"I'm glad you're here," she said to Mark. "... I'm definitely glad you're here. "
That warm sensation was lingering. "I'm glad to be here. I need a new career. New start."
Something a bit more mellow kicking down doors and chasing bad guys. Eh? "
I hear you pal.
What are your plans for the rest of the day?
I'm going to meet your dad's lawyer and then maybe go check out the Improper. I hired a carpenter last night.
Oh, yeah, local guy?
I met him over at the Toad Creek. The guy seems trustworthy enough. I'm going to meet him over at the bar around two, take a look around to see where we'll begin work. We're going to have a few beers if you or you and Lloyd would like to meet us for a few...
Maybe I will, Lloyd's been busy lately and that's just fine with me. How about you go and meet Binder, get that paper signing over with and I'll meet you over at The Improper in a couple hours?
Sounds good.
How bout fishing? Is there any decent fishing left around here?
Oh, I guess if you drive about twenty miles up stream, above Allied Battery, I'd say the fish are safe to eat that far upstream. The big problem around here lately's been rabies. Lloyd's shot a whole bunch of rabid raccoons around here these past couple months; if you see slow moving raccoons in the daytime... shoot em.
The roads winded something fierce around here but the curves were wide enough that you could fishtail and still manage to avoid tumbling off.
When he got there he saw no one was home as promised. The key was under the lion statue, just like Maureen said.
The living room bar was well stocked. Just like her father had kept it. He made himself a Bourbon Presby and stared into the empty (save for the iron log rack) fireplace.
About an hour later, Maureen pulled her Bronco into her driveway. She entered the house and was a sight for the sorest of eyes. She kissed him; this time she lingered and played.
"I missed you Mark," back to lingering before it went French. It was becoming increasingly clear: once again Mark Davidson and Maureen Kurtz were holding themselves out as kissing cousins.
"I missed you too," he replied.
She broke away to make herself a drink. "How's yours?" she asked.
"Fine," he said watching her fix her favorite: gin and tonic.