Auntie Vi was about four feet tall and weighed maybe eighty pounds with her false eyelashes on. She was one of Ekaterina's contemporaries and therefore had to be in her late seventies, if not her early eighties, but the years sat lightly upon her shoulders. She had her share of wrinkles around the eyes and mouth and the backs of her hands, but her spine was still straight, her step light, her hair as thick as a girl's, although she had allowed the temples to go gray, giving her an elegant look that could only have benefited from a crown perched thereon. She had a wide smile filled with improbably square teeth, a pug nose, and bright brown button eyes that were naturally inquisitive.

She finished clearing the table and bustled the dishes into the kitchen, leaving him to enjoy the last piece of fry bread and the dregs of his now-lukewarm cocoa in solitary splendor. It was a rectangular room, big enough to hold a table that seated twelve, along with twelve chairs and a sideboard with a hutch on top of it. Flowery prints decorated the walls, which were covered with some tiny floral-print wallpaper in a delicate yellow. There were ruffles on the sheer white curtains hanging at the windows, and tatted tablecloths covered the surface of the table and sideboard and the backs of all twelve chairs. It was a very feminine room, but not so feminine that he felt uncomfortable in it.

He heard the hum of the dishwasher, and shortly Auntie Vi bustled back in. "Now," she said, sitting down across from him and laying both hands flat against the table. On to business. "What you here for, Jim, eh?"

"Your cocoa and fry bread breakfast."

She shook her head, although she couldn't suppress her smile.

"It would have been worth the flight alone," he said, "but you're right, Auntie, I need your help."

"Ah." She folded her hands and tried to look impassive, but he was not deceived. Auntie Vi loved being asked for help, almost as much as she loved giving it. "With what?"

Her accent was that of a person who spoke English as a second language, a little heavy on the gutturals and a little light on the verbs, but she had no trouble understanding what he was saying. "Good idea," she said when he finished explaining.

"What about office space?"

She shook her head. "Build your own."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that."

"Where you live?"

He met her eyes. "I'd be looking for a small place, probably."

"Uh-huh," she said. "A cabin maybe."

"Maybe," he said.

"Maybe not in village. Maybe down the road a ways."

"Maybe."

He got the hell out of there.

She waited until the door had closed behind him before allowing the wide, all-encompassing grin to spread across her face.

Ayah, that Katya, her life was about to get interesting again. Auntie Vi gave a sharp nod.

Good.

Jim went to talk to Billy Mike, implying without actually saying so that Billy Mike was the first person he'd come to. Billy was notoriously easygoing, but he had his pride. Billy's first question was, "You bringing your clerk with you?"