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Thirty-Two
LIAM
“And there’s been no new intel?” I asked, sliding the back door closed behind me. “Nothing to go on?”
The warmth of the house contrasted starkly with the crisp autumn air outside. Just beyond the glass, a few steps across the deck, the charcoal grill was emitting new puffs of white smoke.
“Only a few rumors,” said Duncan, “and not really verifiable. Something about the LRA rolling through a village with a string of prisoners in tow. A witness claimed one of them matched the description of our guy.”
“How good of a match?” asked Julius
“A young white man who looked miserable,” Duncan replied. “And totally out of place.”
Julius grunted. I couldn’t blame him.
“How good of a witness?” I asked.
Duncan shrugged. “Supposed to be real good, actually. Then again there’s a reward involved, so everyone’s trying to score a piece of it. Doesn’t cost them anything to send us on a dozen or more goose-chases down there. Best case scenario we get lucky, and they get paid.”
“Worst-case scenario we head in the entirely wrong direction,” Julius sneered. “And end up buried in the jungle.”
“Ever dig in the jungle?” I mused. “Roots everywhere.”
“Your point?”
“His point is no one’s going to bury us,” said Duncan. “The animals drag our bones off in different directions.”
It was a pretty grim conversation to be having over a steak and burgers, so we collectively let it lie. Duncan had done well enough in Denver that we had two full teams now. One of them was already en route to Kampala. The other was gearing up to follow this new lead, which could be promising.
By now the beers had been on ice long enough to be cold, and the steak had rested nicely on the decades-old butcher block that had come with the house. I was about to start slicing into it when she walked into the kitchen.
Damn.
Delilah looked amazing all around. She trailed a delicious whiff of vanilla as she glided through the kitchen, an impressive feat considering the spiked heels that made her legs even more shapelier than usual. The hem of a gorgeous red dress trailed behind her, bouncing around mid-thigh. From the waist up it clung to her body, accentuating every wonderful curve, then plunged down again, diving between her breasts.
As she reached for her coat, which was slung over one of the kitchen chairs, she sniffed the air and smiled.
“Smells good in here.”
Duncan let out a long, low whistle. “Sure does.”
It became obvious once she showered and got dressed that she was indeed going out. But now, after all the makeup and high heels and everything else…
“You’ve got a hot date tonight, don’t you?” I dared.
“A date, yes,” she replied. “The hot part remains to be seen.”
A pang of jealousy made my mouth twist into a frown. I quickly untwisted it.
“Looks hot already from where I’m sitting,” said Duncan.
“He asked me out last week,” Delilah added quickly, “and I’d already said yes. You know, earlier. So…”
She looked like she was fishing. Was she fishing?
“Of course,” I said mechanically. “After all, it’s Saturday night. You should go out. Have fun.”
I winced as the conversation died into an awkward silence. In the meantime, Delilah was having a hard time fishing her keys out of her coat pocket. I felt terrible for not including her in our leisure activities this afternoon, as did the others. It was almost like we’d treated her as a second-class citizen. As someone who wasn’t really part of the family.
