Page 24 of Rangers Last Promise

Let Doc try ordering someone else around.

I carry the journal to the nearest table and place it beneath the hanging light. Sheriff Tate retrieves an evidence kit from the case he brought inside earlier. I pull on gloves, then use a small knife to lift the edge of the leather lining.

Doc stands so close behind me I can feel the heat of him against my back.

“Move.”

“No.”

I look over my shoulder. “You’re crowding me.”

“I can see the door from here.”

“This tavern is filled with armed law enforcement officers and two former Army Rangers.”

“Three.”

“You haven’t been around for fifteen years. I’m not counting you yet.”

Something flickers across his face before it disappears.

I turn back to the journal, unsettled by the fact that I noticed.

The lining separates with a soft tearing sound.

A narrow plastic sleeve has been glued inside the back cover.

I ease it free.

There is no flash drive or memory card inside.

Only a strip of paper containing six numbers and three words written in Grant’s hand.

I read them aloud.

“Eight. Seventeen. Twenty-three. Last Stand wall.”

Wolf’s head snaps up.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

He turns toward the far side of the tavern.

The wall is covered with military photographs, Ranger insignia, framed newspaper articles, and plaques honoring men who never made it home.

I’ve looked at it dozens of times.

Tonight, one photograph is missing.

An empty hook hangs between an American flag folded inside a wooden case and a framed Ranger crest.

Wolf crosses the room quickly.

“There was a photograph here.”

“Of what?” Sheriff Tate asks.

“Our unit in Afghanistan.” Wolf touches the bare space on the wall. “The original. Trigger and I hung it there when we opened the tavern.”