23

Larsset the plate of burgers down on the counter, then walked out of the kitchen.

Wes frowned. He sensed that Lars was holding something back. Then again, maybe he was just making a big deal out of nothing. What he really should be talking to Lars about was the proof he’d found online about the pilot from the crash.

“Lieutenant Commander,” a voice said from the front of the house. “Hope we’re not late.”

There was a pause, then Lars said, “No. Come in.”

A moment later Lars came back into the kitchen with a couple of men in tow.

“Wes. Want you to meet a couple colleagues from the base,” Lars said, his smile slightly strained. “Lieutenant Reid Wasserman and Lieutenant Ken Jenks.”

“We’ve actually met already,” Wasserman said, holding his hand out to Wes and grinning broadly. “You’re the hero.”

Wes cringed inside as he shook Wasserman’s hand. Why was everyone calling him that? “Not a hero.”

“You know each other?” Lars asked.

“Ran into him and his friends at Delta Sierra,” Jenks explained, extending his hand and shaking with Wes. “Good to see you again.”

Smiling uncomfortably, Wes said, “Thanks again for the drinks. But it really wasn’t necessary.”

“Wish we could have done more.” Jenks took a step toward Wes. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I know I’d really like to find out what went on out there after the plane went down.”

Wes took a deep breath. “Uh … okay.”

“Listen, guys,” Lars cut in. “I promised Wes we wouldn’t talk about the crash today. You understand, right?”

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Jenks said, “Sure, sure. Sorry. You’ve probably talked about it too much already.”

“We weren’t thinking,” Wasserman added. “Just forget we asked anything.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Lars held the plates with the hamburgers and the onions out toward the two men. “Can you guys do me a favor and carry these out to the grill?”

Jenks took the onions. “No problem.”

“These look great,” Wasserman said, hamburger plate in hand. “Enough for two each?”

“Should be,” Lars said.

“Excellent.”

A moment later the lieutenants were gone.

“Sorry about that,” Lars said.

“Thanks for running interference. I appreciate it.” Wes paused a moment, then, “Look, sorry about the thing with my dad. Seeing your name there just surprised me, I guess.”

“I know that was a while ago,” Lars said. “But I’m pretty sure I’d remember something like that. I have no idea why I’m in his planner. I didn’t see him that night.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Not a big deal.” Lars gave Wes a pat on the shoulder. “I’m hungry. Let’s get those burgers going.”

Wes hesitated. “Um … Lars … about the crash.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already told the others it’s a taboo subject.”

“Thanks,” Wes said. “But, well, I know you told me to drop it-”

Lars gave his friend a compassionate smile. “I told you to do that because there’s nothing there. You’re going to make yourself crazy otherwise.”

“It’s just … I found his picture.”

“Whose picture?”

“The pilot’s.”

Lars’s smile faltered a little. “Adair’s picture was in the paper. I would say you didn’t have to look very hard.”

“I’m not talking about Adair. I’m talking about the pilot I saw in the cockpit.”

Lars held up a hand. “For God’s sakes. You need to drop this. Whatever you think you’ve found doesn’t change the fact that Lieutenant Adair died in that plane crash. You’ve got it so screwed up in your head that your mind’s creating images of someone who wasn’t there.”

“You think I’m making this up?”

“No. I think you believe it. But I told you before, it’s the stress.” He put a hand on Wes’s back. “Come on. Let’s just go out, grill up some burgers, and have a good time. Okay?”

Wes forced a smile, then nodded. “Sure.”

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