Free Two for Flinching by Todd Morgan

her plate to the counter before going
upstairs with Erin. Dad and I set about cleaning up the kitchen. He
did the rinsing while I did the loading.
    “You gotta hand wash this pot?”
    “I wouldn’t have a pot you can’t put in the
dishwasher.”
    “What are you working on?”
    “You know Melvin Jenks?” I probably shouldn’t
have said anything, but if you can’t talk to your father, who can
you talk to?
    “The bank president?”
    Not a shock. Dad knew everybody. “He’s
getting a divorce.”
    “Which side are you on?”
    “Both.”
    He stopped scrubbing the cookie sheet. “How’s
that?”
    I told him about being hired by the wife’s
lawyer and then Melvin coming to me for marital advice. He shook
his head. “Anything else?”
    I took a deep breath. Thirty-three years old
and I still couldn’t lie to the man. “Amber Noble is missing. I’m
looking for her.”
    His head swung around. “Your neighbor?”
    “Yeah.” Then quickly added, “I think she ran
out on her husband.”
    “Steven?”
    “Yeah.”
    “He hire you?”
    Close enough. “Yeah.”
    “Hope he paid you up front. I got a buddy did
some work for him six months back. He’s having to take him to small
claims court.”
    I took the cookie sheet from him and found a
spot for it.
    “Did he?”
    “Well.”
    He handed me the last plate and dried his
hand on a towel. “Spill it, son.”
    “I was uh…sorta seeing her.” So much for
not disappointing him.
    “Amber?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Your neighbor?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Steven Noble’s wife?”
    I nodded.
    He crossed his arms and shook his head. That
simple shake. “After everything with Stella?”
    “I know.”
    He closed his eyes. “Why?”
    “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess…I guess
I wanted to see how it felt to be the other man.”
    He opened his eyes and resumed the head
shaking. “So? How did it feel?”
    “Terrible.”
    He looked at me. I withered under his
gaze.
    “I know, dad. I’m sorry. I made a terrible
mistake.”
    Not the first time he had heard that
line.
    “Son.”
    “Sometimes I feel like I’m under so much
pressure, like I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Raising a daughter alone.”
    “You’ve got Erin.”
    “It’s not the same.”
    “No,” he said, softening. “It’s not.”
    “And I’m not bringing in any money. I don’t
know what we’re going to do.”
    Guilt crossed his face. “You know, with your
momma and all, I can’t help much, but—“
    I held out my hands. “No, no. I’ll think of
something. You’ve done plenty.”
    “You could come live with me.”
    I smiled. “Thanks. Let’s hope it doesn’t come
to that.”
    “Let’s.” He smiled, too. A little. “Maybe you
could do something else.”
    “Like what? Soldiering was the only thing I
was good at and it’s not like I can take Sarah with me.”
    “You were a good cop.”
    “I was a terrible cop.”
    “That’s not what Luther says.”
    “The work was okay. I couldn’t handle the
politics. It was only a matter of time until I lost it.”
    “Isn’t that what you said about Iraq and
Afghanistan? The military politics? The politics with the tribal
leaders? Walking on egg shells, not knowing who you could
trust?”
    “Yeah, but I go to shoot some of them.”
    He shook his head, lightly this time,
smiling. “You always loved to fight.”
    “For all the good it did me.”
    “That martial arts fighting is taking
off.”
    I gave him a look. “I’m too old to get into
that.”
    “Yes, but you could open a gym. Teach.”
    “What would I call it? It’s all run together.
Yoshikia, Tae Kwon Do, Kenpo, Brazilian jujitsu. Plus, what they
teach you in the Rangers.”
    “When did you take Brazilian jujitsu?”
    “When I was in Japan.”
    “You took Brazilian jujitsu in Japan?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Sounds like the definition of mixed martial
arts to me.”
    “Maybe, but not in a market like Chickasaw
Falls.”
    “Could be in Birmingham.”
    “No,”