Martha came in through the back kitchen door carrying a galvanized wire basket of folded cotton sheets and pillowcases.

She set the basket on the counter and took a shiny brass key ring out of her canvas jacket pocket.

“The rear tire pressure on the white utility van is running at thirty-four pounds,” Martha said, holding out the master ignition key to him.

Nathaniel didn’t take the key from her hand.

He rubbed his right wrist where his gold watch sat loose against his cuff.

“That key stays with the head site manager,” he said.