Her face softened. “No, I don’t relish the task. I can honestly say that. Not for you or anyone else. So give in,” she pleaded, leaning forward. “You can’t win. Don’t make me recommend anything but removal of the implantation.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and she thought she sensed sudden rebellion in them, but they were as fathomless as the gray mists that shroud Flathead Lake during a winter storm. Then suddenly they were filled with wide innocence. “Give in? What makes you think I haven’t already?”

Before she could answer, he leaned forward quickly and pushed the package toward her. “I’ve been working on a project in my free time. I’d like you to have it.”

Nicole stared at him, completely disarmed by the surprise move.

“Go ahead,” he said. “It’s not a bomb.”

She waved that aside, embarrassed. “I know that, it’s just that—” She stopped and looked at the package.

“I thought about giving it to Clayne, but decided this would be a way to tell you I’m sorry I happened to come along and put you in a situation you’d rather not be in.” He stood up, suddenly anxious to go. “I suppose also that I have a bit of a selfish motive as well. I hope it’ll help you understand why I’ve made it so difficult for you.”

He stepped to the door and opened it.

“Eric, wait! Let me see what it is.”

He shook his head. “I’ve got to get some things out of my locker. Good-bye, Nicky. Take care.” He flashed her a quick smile, tinged with sadness, and then he was gone.

For a long moment she stared at the door. Then she turned to the package. Opening the drawer of her desk, she took out a pair of scissors and snipped the twine. The brown wrapping paper slipped partially off, and she pulled it away. She stared for a moment, then slowly set the scissors down.

Travis had said Eric was good at woodcarving, which made him a master of understatement. From the redwood burl, using its natural shape and grain, Eric had carved an American bald eagle, suspended in flight, its wings nearly forming a V. For a moment she thought he had caught it in the moment of descent, just before it landed on the tree limb that formed the base for the sculpture. But the balance was off. The bird was almost tumbling over backwards, its neck bowed grotesquely.