Upside Down Read Online Free PDF Page B

his back to the glass.
    “We ran into Sean outside, and she and Millie went to go powder their noses,” Hank said. “She's smoking a cigarette.”
    Millie Trammel was a secret smoker. Hank had quit, and he acted like he didn't know his wife still did, and she acted like she didn't do it. It was sort of a sanctioned denial game.
    A waitress with curly black hair and a silver bead on one side of her nose swept up and stopped in front of the men. “Our wives are joining us,” Hank told the young woman. “We'll all have tea.”
    “Sweet tea?”
    “What, darlin', don't I look sweet enough to you?”
    “Don't pay my grampy any mind,” Winter told her. “Sweet tea.”
    The waitress walked away.
    “So you're really doing it?” Hank asked Winter.
    “Yep.”
    “I'd hoped you would change your mind.”
    “No way. You're retired now, so why the hell do you care whether I'm still on the job? Ain't like there aren't fifty to take my slot.”
    “I was looking forward to having you nearby in my golden years. In case I have a stroke and need somebody to bathe me, change my diapers.” Hank wiped his head as though there was some hair over his ears that needed pushing back. “I suppose Virginia or Maryland is close enough. You're going to miss the job.”
    “I owe Rush and Sean my nights and weekends. And I've just been plain lucky for just too long. The odds of me walking away from another scrape like the last couple is slim. I've seen enough action to last me awhile.”
    “My old daddy always said the only man you can't ever walk away from is one you kill.”
    Without any words to add, Winter just shrugged. He didn't want to talk about the weight of the dead men perched on his shoulders. It was something no amount of churchgoing, psychiatry, or emptying bottles could lessen. Neither self-defense nor heat of battle made the slightest difference in the anguish that killing brought a normal man.
    “Massey, I have to say that the idea of you teaching ex-football players how to protect executives whose biggest threat is not hitting a green in regulation gives me some pause.”
    “It's done. I stuffed my resignation letter into that blue box right out there before I walked in. As of November the fifteenth, I will be a civilian.”
    “Then congratulations,” Hank said, extending his hand across the table. “Those security guys want the best, that's what they're getting. I told them so back when they called me.”
    “Millie excited about the trip to New Orleans?”
    “Ask her yourself,” Hank said, rising from his chair.
    As Hank's wife and Sean crossed the room together, Winter was aware of men's heads turning, their eyes following Sean. With her height, shoulder-length raven hair, almond-shaped golden eyes, slim build, and elegant features, she looked like a model. He stood and pulled a chair back from the table for her. Hank went to do the same, but Millie waved him off and seated herself. “It's much too late to make anybody believe you're a gentleman, Hank Trammel.”
    Millie Trammel was five-one, weighed maybe ninety pounds, and wore her hair in a salt-and-pepper pageboy.
    “Winter, I was just telling Sean you'll have to bring Rush and come out and have dinner with us when we get back. Next Saturday.”
    “So tell us about the trip,” Winter asked Millie.
    “It sounds exciting,” Sean offered. “New Orleans is wonderful this time of year.”
    “We're leaving from Greensboro, which saved us a fortune, and getting in around three this afternoon. A friend of Hank's, Nicky Green—”
    “You've heard me talk about Nicky,” Hank interrupted. “Nicky's the one put the skunk in—”
    “Please,” his wife interrupted, “not that story
again
. He's only going to be there for one night.”
    “Millie only acts like she doesn't like Nicky. He's a laugh a minute.”
    “I can like Nicky for one night every few years. Actually he means well. He's just a little odd.”
    “Eccentric,” Hank said. “He's a private