Free This Enemy Town by Marcia Talley

that’s for sure.” She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. “Oh, Hannah, sometimes I think I’d be better off dead. If it weren’t for Kevin—”
    â€œDon’t say that!” I shouted. I leaned toward her and added in a quieter voice, “You are an interesting, talented, and very attractive person. Hair or no hair!” I began pedaling as fast as I could. “Think of that Irish singer, what’s-her-name … Sinead O’Connor! And Demi Moore in G.I. Jane! And Sigourney Weaver in Alien 3 .”
    Dorothy sniffed and dabbed at her nose with a tissue she’d extracted from her sleeve.
    â€œEmma Thompson was fabulous in Wit !” I added, “and that wasn’t just makeup, Dorothy. Those women shaved for those roles and took their bald heads home with them.”
    Dorothy tucked the tissue back up her sleeve, leaned back against the wall and, to my very great surprise, began to laugh. “Hannah, you crack me up! Where do I go to get that kind of optimism? Laughs-R-Us?”
    I didn’t know about the optimism, but I had a good idea where I could go for information about Admiral Hart. Paul had taught at the Academy for a million years. He had students who had gone on to be senators and congressmen, CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, captains in the U.S. Navy and, yes, even admirals. One former student was an ambassador; one or two others had been Deputy Assistant Under Secretaries of the Navy for This,That, and the Other. Paul had to know somebody at the Pentagon who could shed some light on the extracurricular activities of a certain Theodore E. Hart, Rear Admiral, USN, and I planned to ask my husband about it the moment I got home.

CHAPTER 6
    As it turned out, it was a good thing I’d made Dorothy no promises, because begging with my husband to find me an informer inside the Pentagon was going to have to wait.
    I left Dorothy with a hug and good intentions, but what is it they say about good intentions? That the road to hell is paved with them.
    My personal hell started when I left Alumni Hall and headed home along the path that skirted the sea wall. As I approached the footbridge that spanned Weems Creek, connecting that part of the campus to Hospital Point, I noticed Emma talking to a female officer. All Naval Academy staff wear plastic name badges, usually black with white lettering and a miniature Naval Academy seal in the corner. I could see that this officer was wearing a name tag, but I wasn’t close enough to read it. I knew she was a lieutenant, though, by the two broad stripes circling the hem of her uniform sleeve.
    Emma was animated, waving both hands around in the air as if she were directing traffic. Finally, she turned on her highly polished Corfam shoes and stalked away in the direction of the library.
    What was that all about? Hardly a career-enhancing move, I thought, for a mid to argue with a superior officer. It was against the rules.
    I opened my mouth to call out to Emma, but thought better of it. Instead, I watched until she disappeared around the corner of Nimitz Library, heading in the direction of the temporary trailers that had filled the parking lot since Hurricane Isabel caused the Severn to crest at eight and a half feet, wiping out more than half of the Academy’s classrooms.
    When I turned back to see what the lieutenant was up to, she was nearly out of sight, halfway across the footbridge.
    â€œWho’s that?” I asked Dorothy, who had just caught up with me on her way to retrieve her car. “Do you know?”
    Dorothy stared into the setting sun, shading her eyes with her hand. “Can’t say for sure, not from the back, but she walks like that woman who’s been hanging around rehearsal lately. I saw her talking to my son, but I didn’t think anything of it. Next time you see Kevin, why don’t you ask him?”
    Â 
    The next time I saw Kevin, it was the following