Chapter Twenty-Six
Ms. Penelope Lundgren would be damned if she would fly to Aspen. She'd once taken a flight, granted it was in the 1970's when she was only seven, on one of the old puddlejumper planes, but she'd never flown since. It was a rollercoaster ride of horrors. People everywhere using their barf bags, including herself, thinking they were all going to die. No amount of convincing by friends of the new and improved airline technology would sway her.
No, taking the train was the sensible thing to do now. Amtrak would be getting into Glenwood Springs on time and then her friend's car would be there for pickup. She so loved the Roaring Fork Valley and didn't mind the almost hour long drive south to Aspen. Others could complain about 40 miles taking so long, but not Penny. It was so lovely and she always got a thrill seeing the mountains, especially Sopris and just a hint of the other Fourteeners. There was something about them, they were so welcoming. She would live here except for the fact that the Museum of Natural Sciences and History was in Denver. Really, it was so unaccommodating of them. But as a curator and Head Anthropologist, one must make sacrifices.
But here she was, once again in her beloved Maroon Creek home, nestled on the other side of Aspen Mountain, close to Ashcroft. Why did she love this area so much? Because it called to her.
"Ninny," she thought to herself. "Don't go romanticizing it again. And especially with all these wild rumors going around of an amazing find, it's time for you to be professional. That's it. Cold and impersonal. Check it out, make contact with this man, Josef Kostan, identify the hoax and then … go on with her dull life."
But Penny has the prettiest blue eyes behind her round glasses and high Nordic cheekbones, and when she's truly excited about something, her smile lights up those eyes and the world around her.