Page 111 of Back in the Saddle

This was disappointing. I was hoping there was some kind of commando code or street sign language they used.

“Is that it?” I pressed.

“That and a confirmation of what we already knew. Pretty much anyone on the street would face torture before they’d give up Mountain or any Shadow Soldier.”

“Surely that can’t be true,” I said quietly, even though the girls at the diner gave much the same impression.

“It’s probably not, but Mountain is smart enough to steer clear of any weak links.”

I would think this Mountain was pretty awesome, if he hadn’t involved my brother in his operations.

Right, moving on to another lead.

“Did the General give you anything?”

Eric shook his head. “Except, in the short time since we saw him, he seems to be spiraling. He kept asking us who his target is, couldn’t concentrate on anything else, and any time we tried to bring him into the present, his confusion was extreme, so we had to quit trying.”

God.

The General.

“Damn,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Mary’s settled, and even though veterans’ affairs aren’t Scott and Louise’s expertise, they have connections. So they’ve made it their mission to get him someplace where he can get the help he needs.”

“That’s good,” I mumbled.

“Yeah,” he repeated.

“So in the end, we got nothing,” I remarked.

Eric handed me a filled wineglass. “Not nothing, honey. If your brother loves you half as much as you love him, he now knows from a variety of sources you’re keen to talk to him. The ball is in his court, and I figure he’ll run with it. In the meantime, we’ll keep looking.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled before taking a sip.

“One more thing I gotta update you on, and one thing, with your car in my garage and your pastitsio in my oven, we’re in a place now that you need to know.”

Oh boy.

Although I was all the way down to be in that place with him, neither of these sounded like things I wanted to discuss.

But better to get them out of the way so we could eat, then he could do the things he wanted to do to me.

Therefore, I asked, “What are those?”

“Savannah texted seven times today.”

Brilliant.

I shot him a scrunchy face.

“My thoughts exactly,” he said when he took it in. “I didn’t reply, and after number seven, I blocked her.”

“So there could be twelve.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We checked. She was on her flight. She’s in LA now. And with her blocked, there’s not much she can do to get to me.”

I nodded because this was true.

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