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His brother shrugged. “Send me the paperwork so I can sell my shares off.”
Lincoln turned the idea over in his mind. It wasn’t the response he’d wanted, but it was better than what he’d gotten so far. At least it meant he still had a chance to bring Sam fully onboard.
“What am I supposed to do here for five weeks?”
“Embed yourself in this town.” Sam stepped back to the tavern door. “Go hiking. Take a boat out and catch some salmon. Have some cotton candy on the boardwalk. Use your Lincoln Atwood powers for good. Give a talk over at the library. Guest lecture in that Skyline professor’s literature classes, or talk to the kids over at the high school. Maybe you’ll find it boring. Maybe you won’t.”
Lincoln guessed there were worse ways to kill time. Board meeting aside, he couldn’t return to the Middle East until Centcom approved his clearance.
And while he didn’t know if five weeks was enough time to bridge over thirty years of complications with his brother, he was willing to give it a shot. So, apparently, was Sam.
“Five weeks,” he said.
“Until you have to go back,” Sam said. “Then one way or another, we’ll figure out what to do about Folio.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Deal.”
For the first time in longer than Lincoln could remember, he and his brother shook hands.
