No Return

14

What Wes really wanted to do was take a look at the pictures in the bar and see if he could find one with the pilot in it. He knew he should have just told Anna that, but until he found his proof, he felt it was better if he kept it to himself. No one wants to come off as a conspiracy nut.

In the forty-five minutes it had taken to get Monroe settled and then walk back to the bar, the crowd at Delta Sierra’s had doubled, and the sound level had gone up exponentially.

Wes spotted Danny right away. He had moved to the bar and seemed to have made a couple of new friends-two women who were in at least their mid-thirties, but dressed like they were still in high school. Thankfully, though, they were monopolizing all of Danny’s attention, so Wes’s return went unnoticed.

Wes started with the wall closest to the main door. Though some photos were in color, most were black-and-white. Where there was any terrain visible, he saw the unmistakable desert of the Mojave, plains of nothingness and in the distance barren hills and mountains.

Wes’s eyes darted from frame to frame, searching for the face he’d seen. There were a couple of possibilities in some of the group shots, but these were so small, he couldn’t be sure.

He’d gone about a third of the way through the room when he found an empty spot. Despite a thin layer of dust on the surrounding wall, the spot was clean. Whatever had been hanging there had been removed recently.

He finished the back wall and started making his way along the one that led toward the bar. Two more empty spots, one on top of the other. Recent.

“Wes! You came back!”

Wes winced. A part of him had been hoping he could avoid Danny, but no go. He put on a smile and walked over to the bar. “Came to see how you were doing.”

“Me? I’m great. This place is awesome.” Danny was standing between stools occupied by his new female friends, and definitely drunk. “Hey, let me introduce you.”

The two women turned toward Wes, smiling.

“Ladies, this is my buddy Wes. He’s the one I was telling you about. Wes, this is Regina.” Danny tipped his beer toward the woman with a too-friendly look in her eyes.

She held out her hand and Wes shook it. But when he went to let go, she resisted for a moment, then stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout when he finally pulled his hand free.

Danny put a familiar arm around the other woman. “And this is Dori.”

She shook Wes’s hand, mercifully with no lingering touch.

“Danny told us what you did,” Regina said. “That was very brave.”

“Let us buy you something to drink,” Dori said.

“I’m fine,” Wes told her. “Thanks, though.”

“That wasn’t a question,” Dori said, then caught the bartender’s attention and got Wes a beer.

“Thanks,” he said.

Regina lifted her glass. “To the hero.”

“I’m not a hero.”

“To the hero,” Dori repeated.

Wes clinked glasses with everyone, then raised the pint to his mouth. He let the liquid brush his lips, but he refrained from actually taking a drink.

“So, what were you doing?” Dori asked.

“Pardon?” Wes said.

She nodded toward the room beyond the bar. “You were checking out the walls.”

“Who was checking out the walls?” Danny asked, a bit unsteady.

“Your friend. He was walking around the room, staring at them.”

Wes shrugged. “I wasn’t staring. I was just taking a look at the pictures.”

“See anything interesting?” Regina asked.

“A bunch of pilots and planes,” Wes said.

Regina reached out and put her arm around Wes’s waist. “Want to share the stool, sweetie?”

He pulled himself back. “Actually, I need to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Her hand lingered on his hip. “I’ll be waiting.”

Wes angled himself through a break in the growing crowd and headed toward the restrooms. Just before the hallway, he turned to the left and finished examining the wall near the bar.

Nothing.

Whoever the pilot in the downed F-18 had been, his picture wasn’t here.

Disappointed, Wes made a wide circle around the bar, avoiding Danny and his friends, and headed quickly for the exit. Just as he reached the far side, someone grabbed his arm.

“Thought you were coming back.”

He turned to find Dori standing behind him.

“I’m tired,” he said. “Gotta work early tomorrow.”

“Danny doesn’t seem worried about it.”

“He’ll pay for it in the morning.”

“I think Regina likes you.”

“I’m sure she’s very nice,” Wes said, “but I’m attached.”

Dori frowned. “Kind of attached, or very attached?”

“Very.”

“Really? Well, that’s good news,” she said, then added, “not for Regina, of course.”

Wes faked a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

“Will you?”

“Good night, Dori. It was nice meeting you.”

She regarded him for a moment. “Bye, Wes.” She disappeared back into the crowd.

As Wes turned for the door, something on the wall behind the bar caught his eye. He stepped closer to get a better look. It was a framed photograph of Lieutenant Lawrence Adair, the same shot that had been in the paper. There was a black ribbon around the frame and several candles burning below it.

That’s when it dawned on Wes. The missing photos on the walls, they must have also been of Adair. Taken down out of respect.

So where was Wes’s pilot?

He frowned to himself, then straightened up. It had been worth a try.

After a quick glance back at the bar, he started to turn for the door, but paused. Someone had been looking in his direction. He turned back to see who it was, and was surprised to find Lieutenant Jenks, one of the pilots from the previous evening, staring back at him. The lieutenant smiled and raised his glass, tilting it in Wes’s direction.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Wes turned back toward the door and left.