Talking About Booth
Chapter 10
Seagulls tested the air currents above the cliffs. I watched one float on an updraft until it disappeared from view. Shielding my eyes with one hand, I watched as wave after wave broke against the crescent beach. There was only one person standing on the sand below us, obviously surrounded by gear. He waved and I lifted my hand in reply.
Booth hauled the cooler from the trunk of the car to the edge of the cliff. He had already secured the lid with nylon webbing.
"You're going to carry that down there?" Paths were non-existent in the cliff face. I understood now why he had insisted on stopping at the outdoor store.
"I'm not that crazy," he said as he searched among the dry grasses. "Here it is," he said, kneeling. He pushed the plant life aside to reveal a set of climbing ropes and pulleys already secured with anchors. "You think Buster carried all that stuff down on his back?" He attached the cooler with carabiners and pulled on a set of belay gloves.
"Buster? Your guy is called Buster?"
He started to lower our supplies over the edge. "Well, not exactly. It's more of a nickname than anything else. Maybe you should stick to Eddie."
"His name is Eddie."
"That's not really his name," Booth said. "But it's what he goes by." He let the rope out one hand at a time. "Just don't ask him what his real name is."
"Why not?"
"He's a little sensitive about it." He cast a quick look my way. "Really, Bones. Don't ask."
"Can't I call him by his nickname?"
"No." Slack was building in his hands and he peered over the edge to check on the cooler. Satisfied, he hid the belay system in the grasses once more. "Just don't go there." He retrieved two sets of climbing gear from the car and handed me a pair of rock shoes.
"Where did you get these?" They were the same as the ones I had at home. My size. "Booth?"
He grinned. "I told you. I know a guy. Where do you think all this came from?"
"Buster did this? In one night?"
"Eddie to you," he said firmly. "Look, Bones. Buster and me, we go back a ways. It's weird to hear you call him that. Stick to Eddie, okay?"
"Eddie."
"Yeah."
I opened the car door and sat against the seat as I adjusted the lace tension. "How did you know I climbed?"
"The way you put your harness on when we went down into those tunnels. Do you know how much paperwork I had to do because you shot those rats?"
I remembered the case in question. "They were destroying my crime scene."
"That's another thing, Bones. They're my crime scenes too." He handed me a helmet.
"I thought we were going scuba diving," I said dryly as a set of gloves and a harness followed.
"We are," he said, donning his own gear. "But we have to do a little light climbing to get there. There's a reason this place isn't crawling with people. Too much work to have a little fun."
I adjusted the straps of my helmet until it felt snug. "Climbing's fun," I said.
His grin was unabashedly happy. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that. Want to go first?"
"Don't rangers lead the way?"
His surprise lasted only a second. "Yeah, Bones, we do." He led the way to an anchor mounted permanently into the rock with bolts. "You'll have to take a couple of steps down before rappeling." He ran the cordage through the ring and prepared to go over the edge. "Watch the first step," he said. He looked over his shoulder. "It's a doozy."
The transition between firm footing and suspension gave me a familiar jolt of adrenalin. I concentrated on keeping my body horizontal to the rock and rappeled down to where Booth stood waiting.
"Welcome to the sand," he said with a sweep of his hand. "Need sun block?"
"Booth," I said. I freed myself of my gear.
"Bring it with you," he said. "We'll put it with all the rest." He cast a critical gaze over me.
"What?"
"No hat. Good call."
I smiled and reached into my pack. Rolling the straw had done little to preserve the shape, but the hat was still functional.
"You're kidding," he said as I tweaked the wide brim. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you." He put his sunglasses back on.
"I think Eddie's waiting for us," I said as I followed his example.
"Oh, he's going to love you," muttered Booth as he picked up the cooler.
"Seeley." Eddie's voice met my expectations. A definite baritone. He was a few inches taller than Booth and possessed an athletic stockiness that did not need weight training to achieve. "Good to see you again." He slapped Booth on the shoulder.
"Hey, watch it," said Booth. "I only have two." He dropped the cooler into the sand and grinned. "You look about the same. Carrying a little more here though." He backhanded Eddie's stomach. They clasped hands in greeting.
"I can take you any day," said Eddie.
Booth looked dubious. "I don't know. All brawn, no brain." He shook his head. "Always a bad combination."
"Look who's talking." Eddie glanced my way.
"Buster," said Booth. "This is Temperance Brennan."
Eddie gave me a broad smile. "So you're the one he's been talking about. I'm Eddie."
I let him engulf my hand with his own. His grip was surprisingly gentle. "I know," I said. "Booth told me."
"To call me that?"
"About not asking about your real name." I ignored Booth's dismay. "Booth calls me Bones, but you can call me Temperance." No other name seemed right to offer.
Eddie studied me for a few long moments before releasing my hand. "I like her," he said. "She's honest."
"Thank you," I said. I picked my way across the sand to the pile of gear. The newness of it all fascinated me. I picked up a regulator and turned it over in my hands. "This is all high end equipment. Do you run a dive shop?"
"I guess you could say that," said Eddie, his voice casual. "Booth says you're a good diver."
"Mostly caves, underground."
"The dangerous stuff," he said. "Booth's going to have to work hard to keep up."
I picked up an oddly configured device. "I've never seen one of these before. What does it do?"
Eddie took it from me with a quickness I hadn't suspected. "Ah, there it is," he said. He whisked it into a storage bin. "Just something I've been tinkering with."
"It looked like a gas exchange apparatus." Both men seemed to tense.
"I like to play around with gear," said Eddie. "Custom stuff."
"Expensive hobby. Dangerous if you don't know what you're doing." I noted his guarded look. "Booth plays with cars."
"Hey," said Booth. "Parker plays with cars. I restore them."
"Maybe we should look at the dive tables," said Eddie. He pulled out the charts and weighted them down on a makeshift table. "You'll love this one, Temperance. It's word of mouth only. No one's written it up yet."
And so went the day.