Free Angel Fire by Valmore Daniels Page A

of place. John was a few years older than Beth and didn’t know her friends very well; and Neil, of course, didn’t know anyone.
    Once the novelty of me wore off, I shouted to the three of them above the din, “Maybe we should get a table or something.”
    Beth nodded and motioned for John to arrange it. With his bulk, he pushed through the crowd and we found an unoccupied table.
    Neil pulled a chair out for me. I blushed and muttered a thank you that he couldn’t possibly hear.
    Beth leaned over to me. “See, wasn’t so bad. Everyone was happy to see you. Only a few bad apples in the barrel.”
    A waitress appeared. “What can I get you?”
    John called out, “Beer! Bring a jug. First round’s on me.”
    “Not for me,” I said. “Against the rules.”
    I smiled up at the waitress. “Just water for me.”
    John glanced at Neil, who nodded and said, “I’ll get the next round.”
    “You got it.”
    Beth tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned, she pointed at a middle-aged woman I recognized talking to a much younger man I didn’t.
    “Check out Mrs. Haverstad,” Beth jeered at our old high school social teacher. I could hear the woman’s laughter from across the noisy bar. “Or should I say, ‘Ms.’ Haverstad.”
    I raised my brows. “What, she got divorced from Bill?”
    Beth nodded. “Yup. Dumped her like yesterday’s trash. Now she’s turned into the town cougar. Shameless.” She pointed to another woman. “Oh, there’s Charlotte Baker. You remember her?”
    I remembered throwing up on her five-hundred-dollar shoes at a bush party when I was seventeen. After that, I don’t think we spoke more than two words the rest of high school.
    “I’m not her favorite person,” I said.
    “She’s in my spinning class. I’m going to go over and say hi. Wanna come?”
    “Uh,” I said uncertainly. “Maybe another time.”
    Beth flashed a smile and, with a wink, sashayed in Charlotte’s direction.
    John and Neil were already well into the get-to-know-each-other phase.
    “How long you been a firefighter?” John asked Neil.
    “Going on fifteen years now. Joined up right after high school.”
    John nodded. “Must be pretty exciting.”
    The waitress arrived with a tray of frosted glasses and a pitcher of beer. She set them down on the table as John counted out the bill and a generous tip.
    “Thanks, sugar,” she said to John. I could have sworn she was looking at Neil, though.
    John poured the beer and the two raised their glasses in salute. Neil only sipped while John downed his in one long pull.
    “I couldn’t do anything like that,” John said as he poured himself another. “Too much excitement. I like safe and quiet. An accountant’s life is stable and predictable; just the way I like it.”
    To my ears, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
    “So,” John said to Neil, “what made you decide to become a firefighter?”
    “Long story—”
    A hush settled over the other end of the bar.
    “Oh, shit,” I said, and my stomach twisted when I glanced in that direction. The feeling of camaraderie I had started to enjoy disappeared in an instant.
    Barry, Frank and Troy swaggered into The Trough like they owned the place.
    “What?” Neil followed my gaze, and lowered his brows. He put a hand on my arm, and that simple gesture helped to center me.
    The bartender, old Jack Creel, came out from behind the counter and motioned for the three of them to leave. Looking at Jack, you would think he’d get knocked over by a stiff breeze, but despite his age and lanky physique, he was fast and vicious in a fight, often taking down men twice his size.
    I couldn’t hear what they said, but I could guess. I knew Barry, and I knew he could be charming and disarming when he wanted to. He put his bandaged hands up in an ‘I don’t want to make trouble’ gesture and smiled like a saint.
    Jack shook his head, but after they exchanged more words, he finally shrugged and