I wouldn’t have stopped to stare if they hadn’t looked so furtive, but after a second I realized that the oldest man in the group was Nathan Kiel. This morning he’d been wearing a sweat suit and slippers, but here he was all decked out in a shirt and tie. It took a moment longer, but I also recognized the man on his left. When I’d seen Colonel Baggetto at Fort Riley four days ago, he’d had on khaki with lots of medals and ribbons, but tonight, like Kiel, he was in civvies.

When I started toward the table, the colonel got to his feet, frost melted, smiling as if I were his long-lost sister. “Ms. Warshawski. I thought I recognized you. We met a few days ago—”

“At Fort Riley.” I smiled but couldn’t emulate his warmth. “I didn’t recognize you at first without your birds and medals and stuff.”

“Even colonels get to take nights off, which means shedding the plumage. Come and have a drink.”

He placed a hand on the small of my back, propelling me toward the table. The touch was light, but there was muscle behind it. He pulled a chair over for me, but I didn’t sit, just nodded to his drinking buddies. One of the strangers was perhaps my age or a bit older, with the leathery skin of someone who spent a lot of time outside. The other was young, young enough to be Kiel’s grandson. I had a fleeting thought that I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t place him.

“Dr. Kiel. And . . . ?”

Baggetto performed introductions. The leathery face was Bram Roswell. “He does something important at Sea-2-Sea, so important that I can never figure out what it is. And this is Marlon Pinsen, who’s a student here. Gentlemen, this is Ms. Warshawski—sorry, I’ve forgotten your first name. She visited me at the fort a couple of days ago.”

Roswell nodded at me, not interested, but young Pinsen half stood, with a respectful “How do you do, ma’am?”

“I’ve been in so many places in Lawrence this week that I can’t remember whom I’ve seen where,” I said to Pinsen. “But we’ve met, haven’t we?”

“I don’t think so, miss . . . ma’am,” he said, after a pause that lasted a hair too long.

“Best not to admit it if you have met her,” Kiel said. “She’ll start imagining she has a right to tell you how to live your life. Whose business have you been interfering with this evening?”

“Someone who was past any advice, good or bad,” I said. “I discovered Doris McKinnon’s dead body on her kitchen floor. I didn’t realize that you knew her.”

“I? You’re badly mistaken. Which seems habitual with you.”