It was Blue all right. They’d gone a ways to avoid the squadron, and here the squadron’s loudmouth had found them. Well, he hadn’t seen them yet. He was squarely facing the mirrored wall of liquor bottles. Mary surveyed the exits. Frank saw her and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Unless you want to set off the emergency alarm. ’Course, we’d be through the door by then.”

“But also most likely dragged back and questioned,” she said, teasing.

“Never seen him here,” Frank complained.

“He looks comfortable,” Mary said.

“He does,” Frank said, smooching his lips together.

“He lives down here.”

“He does not live down here.” Frank was irritated.

Oh, now, there she was, the lady Blue was meeting. She was built—there was no other way to put it—butch. But the hairdo was feminine—a curly ponytail with a feathery scrunchie.

“Are those earrings?” Frank peered.

“Not sure,” Mary said, trying to see in the light that had gotten much dimmer.

“Biker chick,” Frank said.

“I think so.”

“Hmm.”

“Know what, I think he’s married,” Mary said. She tried to pinpoint the story on Blue. He wasn’t one of her favorite people. Still, she was of such an order of oddity herself, she kept a constant track on who was what and did what for which reason.

“Is he?”

“Yeah,” Mary said. “And that’s not his wife.”

“Hmm.”

“Might explain,” Mary said, “the distance he’s traveled to meet this lady.”

“Hard to know,” Frank said. Frank, the reputed carouser, enjoyed listening to Mary’s thought process on the mechanics of deception.

“Well, what should we do?” she asked.

“Put out a hand, shake his, and ask why he’s here,” Frank said. “Give-over-your-secrets type of thing. You know, as in, can’t keep a secret from your flyboys.”

“Okay.”

They got up. Just then, the sweetie pushed back from the bar and left. In a huff too. Frank and Mary looked at each other with eyes narrowed. They relaxed their expressions when they got to him.

“Blue,” Frank said, his hand, as he promised, outstretched.

“T-Knee, what the fuck,” blurted Blue.

“Hi,” Mary said. She kept her hand to herself. Blue ignored her. Which was fine.

“Love trouble?” Frank said, still pumping Blue’s hand.

“Afterburner, I guess.”

“Hot and heavy,” Frank said, winking.

“Was,” Blue said, glancing nervously, for the first time, at Mary. “Hello, Extra,” he mumbled in her direction.

“Hi,” she said again.

At least he was too flustered at being discovered to give a shred of thought to what they were doing here. She was always afraid Squadron would misinterpret her closeness with Frank.