“Habit,” Mark once said with a shrug, dismissing it. “Crowded places.”
She didn’t understand at the time. Her friend Angie had explained it to her later. Her husband had served in the first Gulf War and it was one of those things that became so deeply ingrained that it was second nature to anyone who served in a war zone.
“They always want the wall at their back where they can see everything around them. It drove me crazy until I realized he was doing it to keep us safe, even in rural Virginia.”
Her brother tried to make light of it. “Sort of like a John Wayne movie, your back against the wall of the saloon so you can see the bad guys coming.”
Except that it wasn’t a movie. It was all very real. And sometimes the bad guys were women or children who wore explosives hidden in their clothes. Her brother struggled with it. Three tours. Then he was gone.
Food was ordered at the tavern bar, then brought to the table, coffee cups lined up with two brewers going full time.
“They serve a decent hot beef sandwich,” James commented. “Or you can order from the menu.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she replied, and caught the slightly surprised look in the angle of a dark brow.
“No mixed green salad with dressing on the side?”
She caught the undercurrent and chose to ignore it.
“I’m hungry.”
While he went to the bar to place their order, she scrolled through her text messages, then scrolled back.
There was a message from Cate that had finally come through, sent just before the accident. It was flaggedimportantand there was an attachment.
“We need to talk. I’ve sent you something.”
Kris frowned. The attachment appeared to be a black-and-white photograph. But of what?
Noise from the bar had her looking up as a group of young men entered and lined up, throwing orders at the young waitress.
They had the look of locals, probably just off from work. There was pushing and shoving as pints of ale were served up.
“Aye, it’s half-past six then,” Kris heard the girl behind the bar say.
James returned to their table with two mugs of steaming coffee, but his gaze returned to the bar and the young men lined up there, telling jokes, attempting to flirt with the waitress who simply shook her head and returned to the kitchen to place their order. Some things were the same no matter what country you were in.
He glanced at her phone, the screen lit up.
“New message from Anne?”
She shook her head and tucked her cell phone back into her bag.
“An old message that just came through.”
James set a mug in front of her. That dark gaze met hers.
“Technology is great, when it works.”
The barrier came down a little, moving them past that first encounter at the airport and the silence afterward as they drove north. He gave her a half smile, the barrier dropping a little further in a temporary truce.
A loud whistle came from the direction of the bar as the group of young men drained their mugs and called for another round.
“Friday night,” she commented.
“It’s an excuse to do something stupid and say things you’ll regret later.” He shrugged. “But when you have your mates about, you’re especially brave, and especially stupid.”
“Says the voice of experience?” she asked.
