his resources to making Chuck’s life miserable. Ignoring Chuck, he found a spread of chips, veggies, and other snack foods laid out on the kitchen counter.
Ben felt a sudden swat on the back. “Glad you made it in before midnight,” Herb said, grinning. “We were afraid we would have to release the dogs.”
“Ha, ha,” Ben said, without much enthusiasm. “Very funny.”
“Just a little humor, Kincaid. I’m sure a luminary of your stature can take it. Say, here’s a tip. Stay clear of Crichton tonight. He’s on the warpath. He’s been yelling at everyone in sight since we got back to the bunkhouse. No one can figure out why.”
“Surely he didn’t yell at you , Herb.”
Herb’s lips pursed. “He did. Threatened me within an inch of my job, the SOB. I know he’s your biggest fan, Kincaid, but I’d stay away from him just the same.”
Herb passed through the food line and gravitated to the other side of the room, where Candice coincidentally happened to be standing.
“Need help carrying your plate, mighty warrior?” Christina asked Ben.
“Now I understand,” Ben said. “Crackerbarrel must mean gathering place for the great wits of the twentieth century.”
“Oooh. Not the usual homme d’esprit, tonight, huh? Didn’t mean to offend. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“So I can serve as the butt of your jokes?”
“No, so you can protect me from Herbert the Pervert. What a lech that man is. Can’t keep his eyes—or his hands—to himself. Practically pawed me up in the chow line. And with Candice, me object of his amour fou , standing right beside me.”
“Maybe he was using you as a diversion. You know, to throw everyone off the track.”
Christina shivered. “More likely he’s just an insufferable toad.”
Ben exited the snack line and took a seat at the table beside Doug, who was sitting with a plate full of tortilla chips and queso and, of course, his laptop computer.
“I hear Crichton’s in a lousy mood tonight,” Ben said.
“You are a master of understatement.”
“He got to you, too?”
Doug drew heavily on his cigarillo, then set it on the corner of his paper plate. “Oh, yes. Took my American Airlines litigation plan and threw it in my face. Told me to get back behind the typewriter where I belong.” He shoved a few chips in his mouth. “Stupid ass. Doesn’t know the difference between a PC and a typewriter.”
“Who else incurred the wrath—” Ben’s sentence was cut off by a sudden outburst from the back of the room.
“Good God, they’re at it again,” Doug said. “Like characters from a Noël Coward play.”
“Who?”
Doug pointed. Herb and Candice had finally managed to connect, so to speak.
“You were pathetic today,” Candice said. “You run like a girl.”
“Oh, yeah?” Herb retorted. “Well, you run like a man, not that that’s any big surprise.”
“Dickhead.”
“Bitch.”
“Prick.”
“Double bitch.”
Ben turned back toward Doug. “Looks like they didn’t do much bonding today.”
“I rather suspect that will come later tonight,” Doug replied.
Ben suddenly became aware that Shelly was sitting opposite him. Had she been there all along, invisible as ever, or had she just mysteriously appeared? He couldn’t be sure.
“Hi, Shelly. How’s everything?”
She didn’t reply, but Ben did think he saw the corner of her upper lip twitch, which he took as a sign of encouragement.
“Where’s your baby girl this weekend?”
She looked at him strangely, as if startled to find someone actually noticing she was present. “Angie is at a twenty-four-hour day-care center,” Shelly said quietly. Her voice was almost as fragile as she was. “Costs a fortune, but Crichton insists we attend these retreats.”
“Did Crichton yell at you, too?”
“Of course not. He only yells at the ones he likes.”
Ben thought about that for a moment. “Any chance of Dad looking after Angie? It’d be cheaper.”
He immediately
Ben felt a sudden swat on the back. “Glad you made it in before midnight,” Herb said, grinning. “We were afraid we would have to release the dogs.”
“Ha, ha,” Ben said, without much enthusiasm. “Very funny.”
“Just a little humor, Kincaid. I’m sure a luminary of your stature can take it. Say, here’s a tip. Stay clear of Crichton tonight. He’s on the warpath. He’s been yelling at everyone in sight since we got back to the bunkhouse. No one can figure out why.”
“Surely he didn’t yell at you , Herb.”
Herb’s lips pursed. “He did. Threatened me within an inch of my job, the SOB. I know he’s your biggest fan, Kincaid, but I’d stay away from him just the same.”
Herb passed through the food line and gravitated to the other side of the room, where Candice coincidentally happened to be standing.
“Need help carrying your plate, mighty warrior?” Christina asked Ben.
“Now I understand,” Ben said. “Crackerbarrel must mean gathering place for the great wits of the twentieth century.”
“Oooh. Not the usual homme d’esprit, tonight, huh? Didn’t mean to offend. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“So I can serve as the butt of your jokes?”
“No, so you can protect me from Herbert the Pervert. What a lech that man is. Can’t keep his eyes—or his hands—to himself. Practically pawed me up in the chow line. And with Candice, me object of his amour fou , standing right beside me.”
“Maybe he was using you as a diversion. You know, to throw everyone off the track.”
Christina shivered. “More likely he’s just an insufferable toad.”
Ben exited the snack line and took a seat at the table beside Doug, who was sitting with a plate full of tortilla chips and queso and, of course, his laptop computer.
“I hear Crichton’s in a lousy mood tonight,” Ben said.
“You are a master of understatement.”
“He got to you, too?”
Doug drew heavily on his cigarillo, then set it on the corner of his paper plate. “Oh, yes. Took my American Airlines litigation plan and threw it in my face. Told me to get back behind the typewriter where I belong.” He shoved a few chips in his mouth. “Stupid ass. Doesn’t know the difference between a PC and a typewriter.”
“Who else incurred the wrath—” Ben’s sentence was cut off by a sudden outburst from the back of the room.
“Good God, they’re at it again,” Doug said. “Like characters from a Noël Coward play.”
“Who?”
Doug pointed. Herb and Candice had finally managed to connect, so to speak.
“You were pathetic today,” Candice said. “You run like a girl.”
“Oh, yeah?” Herb retorted. “Well, you run like a man, not that that’s any big surprise.”
“Dickhead.”
“Bitch.”
“Prick.”
“Double bitch.”
Ben turned back toward Doug. “Looks like they didn’t do much bonding today.”
“I rather suspect that will come later tonight,” Doug replied.
Ben suddenly became aware that Shelly was sitting opposite him. Had she been there all along, invisible as ever, or had she just mysteriously appeared? He couldn’t be sure.
“Hi, Shelly. How’s everything?”
She didn’t reply, but Ben did think he saw the corner of her upper lip twitch, which he took as a sign of encouragement.
“Where’s your baby girl this weekend?”
She looked at him strangely, as if startled to find someone actually noticing she was present. “Angie is at a twenty-four-hour day-care center,” Shelly said quietly. Her voice was almost as fragile as she was. “Costs a fortune, but Crichton insists we attend these retreats.”
“Did Crichton yell at you, too?”
“Of course not. He only yells at the ones he likes.”
Ben thought about that for a moment. “Any chance of Dad looking after Angie? It’d be cheaper.”
He immediately
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