“She embodies a concept,” he said finally.
“Say again?”
“She took a course on tactical decision-making at Bragg before she deployed to Bosnia. The Boyd thing. The OODA Loop.”
Griffin nodded. “I read the book. Not sure you can teach that. You got it or you don’t.”
“Well, she aced out all the guys in the course. One of them was a Delta colonel who was into thinking outside the box-” Broker’s voice stuck briefly. “Holly, Colonel Holland Wood,” he said.
“There was a Delta colonel with you at Prairie Island,” Griffin said directly.
“The same.” He paused, closed his eyes briefly, and continued. “Any rate. He ran into her in Bosnia, remembered her, and invited her in for an interview. I only know snatches. After 9/11 she disappeared into the black side. Thing that still pisses me off is, she took Kit with her last time out. Used our kid to set up her cover in that North Dakota thing.”
“Kit,” Griffin said simply. “You want her to turn out like you, or Nina? She’s headed in that direction, you know. Unless you guys change.”
Broker listened to the soft breeze rise and fall, drawing silky through the pines.
“Think about it all the time,” he said.
Griffin backed off. Figured it was as close as Broker would get to answering the question about what Nina would do next.
Broker’s prediction turned out to be inaccurate. When Nina and Kit left Dawn’s Salon, Nina’s reddish amber hair was cleaned up but styled longer than it had been since her undergraduate days. Kit sported a matching cut; the snarl of her cowlick bangs resolved under Mom’s watchful eye. Nina tossed her new do and looked up and down Main Street.
“We’re going out tonight, so let’s splurge a little, maybe get new outfits,” she said. Her eyes prowled the storefronts. Stopped on a funky hand-painted sign across the street, next to the redbrick courthouse: “Big Lake Threads.” “There,” she said. She took Kit’s hand, and they started across the street.
The door jingled when they entered, and Nina scanned a display of hats, gloves, and scarfs that tended more toward fashion than the practical; accessories for women who didn’t worry about getting cold. So it was a boutique that catered to the high-end summer crowd. Probably kept open as a labor of love through the winter. The lady sitting behind the counter looked up, smiled, then went back to reading her book. The store was empty except for one other shopper, a slim, striking woman with long black hair who stood among the racks, holding a blouse at arm’s length, staring at it with a tangible longing.
“Mom,” Kit said urgently, tugging at Nina’s hand. “Let’s go.”
Nina tracked Kit’s sudden alarm, found its source when she saw a stout little boy peek around the dark-haired woman.
“That’s Teddy Klumpe, you know; the boy at school,” Kit whispered.
Their tense conversation was mirrored down the aisle between the woman and her son. Nina saw surprise on the woman’s face and instinctively decided to move before her dazed expression focused into something harder. With Kit in tow, she walked up the aisle and extended her hand.
“Mrs. Klumpe, I’m Kit’s mother-”
The woman drew herself up, wary. “It’s not Klumpe, it’s Bodine, Cassie Bodine.”
“Well, I’m Nina Pryce. I didn’t take my husband’s name either. Although I did give him the option of taking mine.” Her hand was still outstretched.
Nina’s casual remark was just enough to skew the building tension.
Cassie’s face was pinched gorgeous, with nervous blue eyes. She transferred the blouse to her left hand and cautiously shook Nina’s hand.
“My husband tells me we owe you something,” Nina said, searching her memory for just what it was that Broker had said they owed by way of a peace offering.
Cassie swept her arm behind her and hauled Teddy out in plain view. Kit and Teddy looked up at their mothers for clues, then both stared at the floor.
“Actually,” Cassie said, her hand touching her throat and then her hair in a jumpy reflex. “Actually, Teddy… this is Teddy,” she said, dropping her hand, patting the boy briefly on the head.
“Hello, Teddy,” Nina said easily. “You got some shoulders on you, boy. I’ll bet you play-”
“Hockey,” Teddy said, his eyes shifting sideways.
“Hockey,” Nina repeated. Then she patiently looked back at Cassie.
Cassie said, “Well, it was his shirt, it got-”
“Blood on it,” Nina said, nodding, extemporizing. “Probably ruined it.”
“Well, yes, it did.”
“Ms. Bodine,” Nina said carefully, “we’ve had quite a talk with Kit about playing too rough, and we’d appreciate it if you let us replace Teddy’s shirt.” She glanced down the store. “I don’t suppose they have anything suitable here?”
Suddenly animated, Teddy tugged at Cassie’s sleeve. “Mom, they got those X-Men in the back.”
“There is a small kid’s section, but it’s on the pricey side,” Cassie said. Grinding her teeth, that jerky eye movement again.
“X-Men’s cool; right, Kit?” Nina flashed a warning to Kit, who was struggling to contain the mortification creeping up her neck and reddening her cheeks. “Let’s take a look.”
They followed Cassie and Teddy to the rack of specialty T-shirts. He selected a black one, boys’ extra- large.
Nina said, offhand, “Maybe you should get the red one-if you get skinned up playing hockey, won’t show as much.”
Cassie blinked, not sure if there was a discreet stinger in the remark. Teddy stuck with the black. They walked back up to the sales counter, and Nina explained to the clerk that she was starting a tab. The clerk removed the price tag, set it aside, then folded the shirt and put it in a bag.
Nina shook hands with Cassie a second time, saying earnestly, “We’re real sorry about what happened. Let’s hope things work out for the best.”
Cassie shrugged, eyes and facial muscles flitting. Not entirely certain what had happened here. “We’ll see… how it goes,” she said. And they left it at that.
As Cassie and her son walked from the store, Kit elbowed her mother, “Mom, I am so
“Calm down. You’ll learn that sometimes you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Kit said.
“It’s a cliche. Sometimes when you deal with dumb people, it helps to say dumb things. That’s a cliche.” Nina brightened, turned Kit by the shoulders, and pointed her into the store. “Now, let’s buy some frivolous stuff.”
“I don’t know what that means either.”
“Fun. It means fun,” Nina said.
Chapter Thirty-six
Nina and Kit returned to Griffin’s house with their new hairdos and the backseat of the Tundra stuffed with shopping bags. They collected Broker and bumped away down the rutted driveway.
Griffin showered, shaved, then started pacing his house, smoked one cigarette, then another; made another pot of coffee. Antsy. The thing was building up momentum. He reined himself in.
Where Gator lived.
He threw on his jacket and went back out on the deck with the cordless phone, to enjoy the soft afternoon.
