“Did you get settled in all right?” he asks, assessing my clothes with a subtle nod.
“Yeah,” I answer as stir my food, watching the steam rise. “Slept like the dead.”
He plants his hands on his hips, waiting like he knows something’s coming, so I don’t drag it out.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“You mentioned that,” he says as he glances at the bench opposite me. I tip my head in invitation, and the booth creaks under his weight as he slides in. “What kind of someone?”
“The kind who doesn’t want to be found.”
He grunts and drums his fingers on the table. “That describes half the people I know. Who is he hiding from?”
“The military, for sure,” I say, keeping my voice hushed. “Though if we’re being honest, he’d probably be just as unhappy to see me. Wherever he is, he’ll be lying low.”
I take a bite, and hum happily at the first taste of a warm meal in several days.
Leif purses his lips, crinkling his nose in thought. “There’s a growing crowd here in the city who are uncomfortable with the military’s grip. They keep things quiet, mostly underground. But you showing up as a fresh face with a military past? Even if you track them down, they won’t trust you.”
My eyes flick around the pub, taking in the mix of faces chatting in clusters. “Something tells me a lot of those ‘uncomfortable’ folks are in the room with us right now.”
Leif shrugs and leans back in the booth, his fingertips still tapping on the table. He doesn’t deny it, which is answer enough.
“Anything helps,” I add. “Even the smallest bit of information you can share.”
“Who is this person you’re after?”
My gaze drops to the table for a second. “Someone who meant a lot to me once.”
“Ah,” he says, with a knowing edge to his voice. “A scorned-lover story.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. “Something like that.”
“You’re sure they’re in the city?”
I study Leif for a moment, weighing how much he already knows. It’s enough to bury me if he wanted to, so I tilt my head from side to side.
“He’s been here for the last four years. Last I heard, he was spotted in the markets about six months ago.”
“Spotted by who?” Leif asks, suspicion sharpening his tone.
I chew my lip, gaze flicking once more around the room. “I had a contact in the city who kept an eye out for me.”
“Then why pull me into this?” he demands as he sweeps his hand up my frame. “Why not lean on them?”
I shake my head with a sigh. “He can’t know I’m still alive. It’s too dangerous.”
A burst of laughter erupts near the bar, and Leif’s gaze snaps that way until he’s satisfied it’s just noise, not trouble. His attention returns to me, and I take another bite and let the silence sit until I can’t bear it anymore.
“It’s important that I get his help,” I say at last.
His lips press into a thin line as he studies me, so I keep eating and give him room to think.
Something tells me he won’t be rushed.
After a long exhale, he mutters under his breath, “Why does ol’ Nelly always send me trouble?” He sits forward, leaning his elbows on the table. “I’ll ask around. Can’t promise anything, though.”
“Every little bit helps,” I say earnestly.
