Snake in the Glass by Sarah Atwell

make a difference, really. But hotter seems to work better.”
    “How did you get interested in stones? That’s kind of far from your professional field, isn’t it?”
    Denis pulled open the kiln lid and with long tongs carefully positioned a small crucible in the interior, rearranging a few others. He stepped back, considered, then moved it an infinitesimal amount, then shut the lid again. Returning to the table, he made a note in his notebook. Finally my question registered and he looked up at me.
    “What? Oh, you were asking how I got interested. Well, it’s hard not to be, living in Tucson.”
    I did not point out that I lived here too and yet I’d avoided it so far.
    “My wife likes jewelry, but I’m afraid her tastes are a bit beyond my salary. I thought maybe I could create something unique, maybe even name it after her, and it would make her happy.”
    “That’s a nice idea. What’s her name again?”
    “Elizabeth. I was thinking maybe ‘bethite.’ “
    “That’s sweet.” Poor Elizabeth. “Can you patent this process?”
    “Not really. It’s kind of dog-eat-dog in the gem business, from what I’ve seen. You just hope to get in ahead of the curve, but other people are going to catch up. You haven’t told anyone about what I’m doing, have you?” Suddenly he looked furtive.
    “Why would I?” I replied. Technically evasive, but not an outright lie. I wasn’t going to mention Frank, who knew all about treated stones anyway, and who I trusted not to steal Denis’s process. And Matt knew too, but he was completely trustworthy. “How many more trials do you need to do? Because you’re at least halfway through your twenty hours.”
    “I’ll pay you for more,” he said quickly. Almost too quickly. “Maybe another twenty, over the next week? That should do it.”
    I reviewed the rest of the week in my head and couldn’t see why that would be a problem. “That’s fine. Paid in advance again.”
    “Sure, fine.” He turned his attention back to his notes, shutting me out.
    I wasn’t sure what more I hoped to accomplish, so I stood up. “You said you’re going to leave some stuff inside the kiln overnight? Okay, then shut the door and turn out the lights when you go. You can let yourself out the back—that’s on a dead bolt. Just pull it closed after you.”
    He looked up at me then and manufactured a smile. “I’ll do that. Thanks a lot, Em. See you tomorrow.”
    As I made my own way back upstairs, I tried to analyze why I felt troubled. Denis was paying me for the studio time, no problem. Sure he seemed nervous, but I didn’t know him well enough to judge whether that was his general demeanor or whether he actually was nervous about something, and I certainly had no clue what that might be. He’d told me a sweet story about creating something for his wife—which I found unconvincing—but what difference did it make? I resolved to ask Frank a bit more about the commercial aspects of treated stones the next time I saw him.

Chapter 9
    Peridot has been thought to give the bearer the ability to overcome adversity.
    I was still trying to finish the book I’d started on the airplane when Frank came back that evening. He looked pleased with himself, but then, he usually did. “Good day?”
    He grinned. “You saying g’day?”
    I smiled. “No, just asking if you had a good day.”
    “That I did. No word from our boy?”
    I shook my head. “How about our girl?”
    “Not word one. Fine pair we make, misplacing our relatives like that.”
    They had misplaced themselves, deliberately, but I didn’t see any point in mentioning that. “You have time to talk, Frank?”
    “If you’ve got a beer handy.”
    I went to my fridge and came back with two cold beers, handing him one. He took a long swallow, then turned to me. “Worries?”
    I settled myself in a chair and took a long swallow too. “Denis—the professor guy renting my kiln—has asked for more time this week.”
    “That a