Free Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 by GJ Fortier

with us.”
    Once inside, Kitchens quickly surveyed the
store. There was a balding man in a gray suit getting a cup of
coffee in the back. To the left, a young man wearing the olive
green jumpsuit of an Air Force staff sergeant was looking over the
store's selection of over-the-counter medicines. On the right was a
middle-aged woman with long brown hair and heavy make-up reaching
for a soda from one of the coolers.
    “They're not with us,” Greg cautioned.
    From all appearances, it was merely a
convenience store with everything one would expect to find, from
Corn Nuts to the aroma of hot dogs sizzling on the rotisserie.
There was even a good selection of fishing supplies, including a
room in the back of the store with a LIVE BAIT sign hanging over
the doorway. Because of its proximity to the Ocmulgee River, the
store had proven quite popular with local fishermen.
    “Let me introduce you to the manager,” Greg
said.
    They neared the store’s check-out counter
where two Lightning Quik Mart employees were standing back to back,
one a young white man and the other a young black woman. “Welcome
to Lightning Quik Mart,” they said in unison, with a decided lack
of enthusiasm. They glanced up and then back to their task of
checking off the deliveries that were being stacked on the floor in
front of them.
    “Good morning, Cheryl, Sean. Where's Cindy?”
Greg asked.
    “In the cooler,” Cheryl answered.
    “Thanks,” Greg said, and then whispered,
“They’re two of eleven Air Force personnel that work here. Cindy is
the only civilian.”
    The sound of a female voice drew their
attention as she emerged from the cooler, her distinctive Brooklyn
accent leading the way. “How many times do I have to tell you,
Tony? You can't deliver here at nine in the morning. We're too
busy. You have to deliver either before six or after ten.”
    She wore jeans, a white blouse, and a red
Lightning Quik Mart vest. Her black hair was pulled tightly back,
bound up with some type of multi-beaded barrette that allowed her
pony tail to hang down to her shoulder blades. She waved a
clipboard as she spoke, closely followed by a Hispanic man in his
mid-thirties wearing the matching shorts and shirt of Lightning
Quik Mart.
    When the driver didn't immediately
acknowledge her, she added, “Are you listening to me?”
    “Yes, ma'am.” He went out the door, pushing
his hand truck up the ramp to fetch another load.
    “That man ain't never gonna learn.”
    “Good morning, Cindy,” Greg said. “I want to
introduce you to someone. This is—”
    “Cynthia Patrice Lattice!” Kitchens shouted,
startling the major. “How the heck are ya?” He scooped her up in a
warm embrace. “You better leave that man alone.”
    “Mister Mayor!” Cindy shouted back,
surprised by the visit from her old friend. Taking his hands, she
stood back and eyed him wryly. “Or, should I call you Senator ?” Heads turned as she immediately attracted the
attention of the store's customers and employees alike.
    “How about Kevin?” Kitchens gave no thought
at all to the store’s patrons.
    “Kevin. It's so good to see you,” she said
warmly and then turned to the major. “Hey, Greg. I didn't expect
you today.” Cindy had been left out of the loop about the senator’s
visit.
    Greg glanced around with a concerned look.
“Maybe we should go into the back.”
    Cindy’s eyes widened in embarrassment.
“Sorry, Greg.” She moved toward the back of the store, handing the
clipboard to Cheryl. “We'll be in the back.”
    Kitchens caught the Air Force sergeant’s eye
as he nodded and said, “Good morning, Sir.”
    “Mornin',” he replied casually.
    The sergeant made a sideways move toward the
employees and whispered, "Who's that?"
    Sean spoke without missing a beat. “Them?
The manager and some big wigs from corporate.”
    Greg paused at the door in order to listen
to Sean's conversation with the sergeant.
    “I thought I heard her say senator .”
    Greg