Page 35 of Jethro

"Jethro Lyons. And he didn't know about her money until after he proposed. He doesn't gamble, he drinks two beers on the Fourth of July, and the only debt he has is a bass boat."

"I can only tell you what was told to me." Carter’s voice rose half an octave. But it was enough to tell the room he was lying and knew it.

"Nobody told you anything, Mr. Langley." Bennett leaned forward. "You made it up. Or somebody made it up for you."

"That's... That's absurd. Why on earth would I..."

"That's the question, isn't it?" Bennett laced his scarred fingers together on the table. "A few hours after Aurora called you, somebody started pulling Jethro's records. When somebody digs into one of my men, I hear about it within the hour. The problem is that you couldn’t see it all because most of it is classified." Carter felt the sweat crawl down beneath his collar.

"I had every right to know who my daughter married."

"And your man told you exactly who she married. A Marine. Six tours. Clean as a whistle. Then you fly down here from Nashville, isn’t that right?” He eyed Carter and the man’s face turned gray. “Never mind. I know it’s right. Fly down here, drive almost an hour from New Orleans to tell me he's a junkie and a gambler.

"So, which is it, Mr. Langley? Did your investigator lie to you, or are you lying to me?"

"I... There may have been some... Look, my sources may have been mistaken. I'll grant you that. But the intent..."

"You don't know her shift, her station, or her friends," Bennett said. "You don't know she sings Dolly Parton on the truck. You don't know a single thing about your daughter, Mr. Langley, except how much she's worth."

The diner had gone silent. No clatter of forks. Behind the register, Lorraine stood with her arms folded.

"I think this conversation is over," Carter said, reaching for his wallet.

"Gentlemen," Bennett said.

Chairs scraped back all at once. The men by the window, the men by the kitchen, the wiry man at the counter, and the bearded giant, who kept standing up until Carter had to tilt his head back. Every man in the diner was on his feet and looking at him.

Every man but one. At the far end of the counter, the man in the gray T-shirt stayed exactly where he was, his back to the room, his coffee cup in his hand.

Carter's wallet slipped from his fingers and landed on the table. He understood, in a cold rush that started in his stomach and spread outward, that there had never been a lunch crowd at all.

"Mr. Langley," Bennett said, "I'd like you to meet the Shadow Warriors."

The giant walked over, a faded eagle, globe, and anchor showing beneath his sleeve.

"Name's Kev," he said, in a voice as deep and easy as the river. “United States Marine Corps. Force Recon. Iraq, Afghanistan, and places the government says we never went. Two Bronze Stars and a Purple Heart. I tell you so you understand what kind of men you've been sitting with."

The wiry man came to stand beside him, his voice pure bayou.

"They call me Gator. Navy SEAL, sixteen years. Then other work, for other people, that we don't talk about at lunch. I spent a lotta years findin' men who didn't want to be found, chére. Men with money and lawyers. I never came home without 'em. Not one time."

"Between the men in this room,” said Mike, “better than two hundred years of service. Silver Stars, Bronze Stars, more Purple Hearts than I care to count. We came home from every hellhole together, and we still look out for each other."

"I don't... I don't see what any of this has to do with me."

"Then let me make it simple." Bennett reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and set a small black digital recorder on the table between them. Its red light was glowing. "Louisiana is a one-party consent state. Every word you've said is on here. If anything happens to Jethro Lyons. If his brakes fail, his boat sinks, or a roof comes down where no roof should..."

"Then we will come for you," Ham said quietly. "You and your wife both."

"And your two friends," Gator added. "Mr. Morgan and Mr. Beauvois. Aurora, she figured they'd be right there in the room when she called you. She figured right, no?"

"We'll take it to the sheriff, the district attorney, and the FBI," Bennett said. "We'll take it to every courtroom in Tennessee and Louisiana. We will pursue you and your wife to the very limits of the law, Mr. Langley."

"And beyond," Gator said softly. "Way, way beyond, chére."

Carter thought of Missy's careful handwriting, and of Lawrence saying none of us were ever here. None of them had ever met men like these.

"It wasn't my idea," he heard himself say, and he hated the thin, frightened sound of his own voice. "I never wanted anyone hurt. I said so. That night, I told them, I said..."