“Aren’t you going to say something?”
Waterman’s eyes remained steadfast, glued to the open highway in front of them. Baked and cracked asphalt disappearing in a blur beneath the hood of his truck as they sped forward.
He finally turned. “Huh?”
“You haven’t said anything in over thirty minutes.”
“I didn’t know you were counting.”
Rachel gave him a hard stare. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“I’ve told you everything. What is our plan?”
“To get to Flagstaff.”
She looked at him in surprise. “That’s it?”
“Sorry, ‘as soon as possible,’” added Waterman.
“That’s it?”
He side-eyed her before focusing back on the road. “What is your plan?”
Rachel scoffed. “My plan? My plan was finding you!”
The older man shrugged. “Mission accomplished.”
She sighed and shook her head. “When you grabbed your bag and said ‘Let’s go’ I assumed you had a plan. And now all you can say is our plan is to get there?”
“Well, unless you have a better idea or a helicopter in your pocket…”
She raised a hand to her forehead in frustration. “You do like John Reiff, don’t you?”
“We served together.”
“That’s not what I asked. Are you even worried about him?”
Waterman’s eyes were narrow, peering thoughtfully ahead. “What exactly do you know about Reiff?”
“I told you, not much.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
She stopped to think. “Like I said, he was in the army. Stationed—”
“Again, not what I’m asking.”
“What are you asking, then?”
“Did you actually ask Reiff what he did in the army?”
She blinked, trying to remember. “His file said he was in communications.”
“Communications.”
“Yes. A communications officer, I think.”
“That’s all. That’s all it said?”
“That’s all they told us, at least,” said Rachel.
Waterman became quiet for a long minute. When he finally spoke, he simply said, “Then no.”
“‘Then no,’” Rachel echoed, confused. “Then no, what?”
“The answer to your question.”
“Which question? Being friends or being worried?”
There was no response.