The Lost Equation - Chapter 7 snippet

Chapter 7: The Hoffmann Case Emerges

"You hungry, buddy?"

I ask, watching as Ransome's ears perk up at the mention of food.

In an instant, he's on his feet, his massive frame bounding towards the kitchen with surprising grace for a creature his size. I can't help but chuckle as he plants himself in front of the pantry, his eyes fixed on the door, tail swishing with anticipation. Those eyes, so full of intelligence, seem to bore right through the wood, willing it to open.

"Yeah, me too", I admit, feeling my own stomach rumble in response. It's been a long day of poring over requests from all over the world for assistance in unsolved cases, and the thought of a hearty meal is suddenly all I can think about. My mind drifts to the leftover pot roast in the fridge, practically calling my name.

As I rise from my chair and follow the path taken by my faithful companion into the kitchen, I can't help but marvel at how in sync we are, even when it comes to something as simple as mealtime. Moments like these remind me that there are no coincidences in this life.

Ransome and I were meant to connect for this period of my life.

I reach for the pantry door, and Ransome's tail picks up speed, thumping against the hardwood floor.

"Alright, alright," I chuckle, "Let's see what we can rustle up for dinner, shall we?"

In truth, I often had no idea what was behind the door.  Another inclusion in my "Arrangement" was a standing order with the "City Market" in Aspen.  Once a week, someone from the market would arrive and restock the fridge and the pantry for Ransome and me. What came in their stock would change based on their tracking of what I ate and did not eat in the previous week.  Something new would be added weekly to tempt me from my dull eating routine.  One week, in the fridge, was a lamb loin, pre-seasoned and prepared, ready for the oven, complete with instructions on proper cooking and complementary sides, as well as their cooking/serving instructions.