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She spotted Rod Mantooth down here. Because Hannibal seldom frequented the northwestern quadrant of The District, the search became a major test of his ingenuity. Yards seemed tiny, and to him a brick front was a brick front. The fact that these places sold for upwards of a million dollars made little sense to him. After failing to learn anything about Mantooth from public sources, he was looking for a man who might have access to less official but more valuable information. And the tom would be coming out to this cornfield, and with luck, following a track along a shallow ravine below him. He hunted deer and turkeys in Virginia, elk and antelope out west. When he was hunting, he stepped into a Zen-space and became part of the landscape. He faded away from himself and his day-to-day problems. The sun came up, rose higher, broke briefly out of the clouds, disappeared again. He rushed back to the present, out of the Zen-space to the here-and-now. She stayed for a long time, and then she went home, feeling dead inside. As dead as her father said she was. In their own way, they each loved their grandmother, although they had always had conflicted feelings, particularly Amadea, about the way their grandparents had treated their mother for marrying their father. It seemed wrong to them, and Beata agreed that it was.
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