Younger took a step toward Jake, his hands balling into fists. “It’s for me to decide, godammit! I don’t want you near her.”

Holy Christ, Jake thought, we’re going to have a fistfight out here in the desert.

Raising his hands, palms out, Jake said, “Tim, calm down. This is a decision Glynis is going to make, one way or the other. There’s nothing you or I can do about it.”

Younger glared at him for a long moment. Jake could feel his heart thudding beneath his ribs, but he stood his ground, wondering what he’d do if Younger took a swing at him. He remembered the description of a fight from high school: Two blows were struck; he hit me and I hit the ground.

At last Younger muttered, “Just leave her alone. Stay away from her.”

Jake shook his head, thinking he was too stubborn for his own good. He heard himself say, “There’s nothing going on between Glynis and me except having dinner once in a while. We are both working on the MHD program, you know.”

Younger looked unconvinced, but his body relaxed and he took a deep breath. “Don’t try to beat me out, Jake.”

Jake started to reply, thought better of it, and simply turned away and started walking back toward his car. Younger stood there in the high sun; Jake could feel Tim’s eyes boring into his back, hear the throaty roar of the MHD generator blasting away.

Dinner for Three

DINNER FOR THREE

It was a week later when Glynis phoned Jake at his office.

“An FBI agent called me,” she said, sounding excited. “She wants to meet with both of us!”

Jake glanced at his phone’s screen. He had two calls on his voicemail list.

“What did you tell her?” he asked.

“I said we’d see her this afternoon.”

Grimacing slightly, Jake said, “I have a class at two. How about later? After four o’clock?”

“I’ll call her back.”

Jake checked his voicemail and, sure enough, one of his two callers had been Special Agent Sheila Mankowitz. The other was one of his students, asking for a makeup date for the test he’d flubbed.

He called the student and settled on a date with him, then phoned Special Agent Mankowitz. Her line was busy, so Jake left his name and number. Telephone tag, he thought as he hung up.

His phone rang immediately.

It was Glynis. “We’re going to have dinner with Agent Mankowitz tonight,” she blurted, without preamble. “Seven o’clock. It’s the only time she had available. That’s all right with you, isn’t it, Jake?”

He nodded as he replied, “Seven is okay.” As if I had anything else on my calendar. “Where?”

“O’Brian’s Irish Pub,” Glynis answered. “On Maple Street.”