“I love your nice rock collection,” Sara said. “Remember when we were in your cabin? You have them all nice in a shadow box.”
Tripp rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Some of the most important people who turned on me is in there.”
“How many would you say you"ve collected?” She took another sip of coffee.
“Hell, I don"t know,” he said, twisting around in the seat and placing an elbow casually on the back of his chair. “I lost track.”
“Where are they all from? I only saw them a moment, but they were all different types of rocks.” She tried to remember the shadow box and mentally count them.
“Can"t say. I collected everywhere from… from Loomis up north to, maybe, San Jose down south.” He looked at her as if asking a question, waiting for approval or recognition.
“You really get around,” Sa
