He looked at her with the serious, uncomplicated eyes of a 23-year-old who had decided this was worth doing and was going to do it. And she let go of his arm and he went to saddle the gray. Roberto stayed with her. They went back inside and Roberto sat at the kitchen table with his rifle across his knees, which should have been alarming and instead was one of the most reassuring things Martha had seen in a month. She made coffee because she was not going to sleep and because making coffee was something to do with her hands.
She sat across from Roberto and they drank and they did not talk much. And at some point around 4:00 in the morning, Roberto said, "How long were you married?" "11 years," Martha said. He nodded. "My father was a mechanic," he said. "Good man with his hands.
Is he still living?" She said. "Yes," Roberto said. "Old but living." He looked at his coffee. "He would have liked your notebook. He kept records the same way.
Every job, every part, every client. He paused. He said it was the only way to stay honest in a business where a lot of people would rather you weren't. Martha looked at him. Henry said the same thing she said quietly.
Roberto nodded as though this confirmed something he'd already thought. They waited. Silas came back at 7 in the morning, which meant Miguel had ridden hard and found him early, and Silas had turned around without stopping to rest. And Martha heard the horses in the yard and was at the door before he dismounted. He came straight to her.
He did not say good morning or ask about breakfast. He walked through the door and looked at her face and said, "Tell me everything." She told him he listened the way he always listened, which was entirely without interrupting with the focused stillness of someone who was absorbing information and not performing the act of absorbing it. When she finished, he said, "How many pages was the notebook?" 63 with writing. She said, "I know because I counted them when I cataloged Henry's papers after he died." Could Crane use it against you? Something in there that No, she said firmly.
"Everything in that notebook makes Henry's case stronger, not weaker." Which is exactly why Crane needs it gone. She looked at Silas. He's not going to destroy it. He's going to alter it. Change a specification here.
Scratch out a date there. Make Henry's records say something different than they say. She felt the familiar cold move through her chest. Which is why I need to move faster than he can. Silas looked at her for a long moment.