Free Certain Jeopardy by Jeff Struecker, Alton Gansky

single.”
    Moyer shook his head. “That’s the dis advantage of being single. When you have a family, you’re fighting for more than patriotic ideals. You fight to make sure your family remains safe.” He paused. “How come you don’t have a girl? A good-looking guy like you should have women dogging his steps. This isn’t one of those don’t-ask-don’t-tell things, is it?”
    J.J. laughed. “If it were, then you just asked. No, nothing like that. I do my fair share of dating but haven’t found the right fit. Made lots of friends but haven’t made the connection I’m looking for.”
    “This is one of those church things, isn’t it?”
    “I suppose. I want to marry, but I need a spiritual woman who understands what I do. I’ve met a number of women who have been impressed that I’m Army, but no matter how fascinated they seem I can tell they don’t like the idea of being married to a military man. They ask, ‘Have you ever been stationed overseas?’ and when I mention being stationed in Germany for a couple of years, the sparkle goes out of their eyes.”
    Moyer nodded. “Takes a special woman to hang with men like us. I don’t know how Stacy does it.”
    “That’s the thing. In my case, I need someone who understands my travel needs, my work, my love for—“ he grinned—“hardware and things that go boom. And she has to be a person of faith. A lot of people fall in love with love, but then it isn’t long before the relationship starts taking a beating. I believe in marrying for life. The one thing I don’t want to do is have to choose between career and marriage. It’s not fair to the woman, but it comes with the package.”
    “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t do this work and be a Christian. I’d have to give up one.”
    The words soured J.J. “I couldn’t do this without being a Christian. It’s how I keep my sanity. It keeps me human.” He studied Moyer’s expression. “I’m talking about me and no one else, you understand.”
    “Yeah, I got it.” After a moment, Moyer said, “You had me worried. I thought the team was going to lose you.”
    “Lose me? Why would you think … oh. Afghanistan.”
    “You looked pretty shook—no, not shook—troubled. You looked deeply troubled at the end.”
    J.J. looked down the aisle: a man and woman, each towing a rolling suitcase, walked by. He waited for them to pass before speaking again. “I won’t lie to you, Boss. It bothered me. Still does. I helped kill a couple of men who did nothing more than follow their sheep into the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, we made the world a slightly better place by defeating a terrorist cell. No worries. I’m not going anyplace the Army doesn’t send me.”
    “That’s good. The Army spent a ton of money training you. I’d hate to think my hard-earned tax dollars went for nothing.” “Hey, I pay taxes too.”
    Moyer laughed, and it seemed to J.J. that he was looking better. Moyer laughed again. “I gotta tell ya, I’ve never met a man who loves Jesus and guns so much. I don’t claim to understand it.”
    J.J. took his fair share of ribbing for being a Holy Roller, but he never let it bother him. Jesus had hung on a cross; the least J.J. could do is take a few jokes and jabs.
    He looked down at the luggage near his feet. “Neither do I.”

CHAPTER 13
     
    THE DARKNESS OF TH E alley threatened to swallow the dim light from distant streetlamps and a late-rising moon. It also threatened to swallow the man who sat on the concrete stoop behind his restaurant. To his left were two dumpsters. In front of the dumpsters, shrouded by the dark, was the blood-stained pavement where his son had died.
    The restaurant appeared more tomb than business. A single light burned inside and dribbled through the open back door. The concrete stoop was hard and dirty, but Reuben didn’t care. The pain in his heart and mind was so fierce he could feel nothing else. Estella was inside writing