The Intruders Read Free

was about mowing grass.
    Callie introduced Jake to her parents and he agreed that he could drink
a beer, if they had any. The professor mixed himself a highball and
poured a glass of wine for each of the ladies. Then the four of them
sat a few minutes in the study with their drinks in hand exchanging
pleasantries.
    He had been in the Navy for five years, liked it so far.
    He and Calhe had met in Hong Kong. Wasn’t this June pleasant?
    Callie and her mother finally excused themselves and headed for the
kitchen. Jake surveyed the room for ashtrays and saw that there weren’t
any. As he debated whether he should cross his legs or keep both feet
firmly on the floor, Callie’s father told him that he and his wife
taught at the University of Chicago, had done so for thirty years, had
lived in this house for twenty. They hoped to retire in eight years.
Might even move to Florida.
    “I was raised in southwestern Virginia,” Jake informed his host. “My
dad has a pretty good-size farm.”
    “Have you any farming ambitions?”
    No, Jake thought not. He had seen his share of farming while growing
up. He was a pilot now and thought he might just stick with it,
although he hadn’t decided for certain.
    “What kind of planes do you fly in the Navy?” Professor McKenzie asked.
    So Callie hadn’t mentioned that? Or the professor forgot.
    “I fly A-6s, sir.”
    Not a glimmer showed on the professor’s face. He had a weathered, lined
face, was balding and wore trifocals. Still, he wasn’t bad looking. And
Mrs. McKenzie was a striking lady. Jake could see where Callie got her
looks and figure.
    “What kind of planes are those?” the professor asked, apparently just to
make conversation.
    “Attack planes. All-weather attack.”
    “Attack?”
    “Any time, anywhere, any weather, day or night, high, low or in the
middle.”
    “You . . . drop . . . bombs?” His face was blank, incredulous.
    “And shoot missiles,” Jake said firmly.
    Professor McKenzie took a deep breath and stared at this young man who
had been invited into his house by his daughter. His only daughter.
Life is amazing-getting into bed with a woman is the ultimate act of
faith: truly, you are rolling cosmic dice. Who would have believed that
twenty-five years later the child of that union would bring home this
… this …
    “Doesn’t it bother you? Dropping bombs?”
    “Only when the bad guys are trying to kill me,” Jake Grafton replied
coolly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, sir, maybe I should take my bags
upstairs and wash my face.”
    “Of course.” The professor gestured vaguely toward the hallway where the
stairs were and took a healthy swig of his highball.
    Jake found the spare bedroom and put his bags on a chair.
    Then he sat on the bed staring out the window.
    He was in trouble. You didn’t have to be a genius to see that. Callie
hadn’t told her parents anything about him. And that look on the old
man’s face! “You drop bombs?”
    He could have just said, “Oh, Mr. Grafton, you’re a hit man for the
Mafia? What an unusual career choice And you look like you enjoy your
work.”
    Jesus!
    He dug in his pocket and got out the ring. He had purchased this
engagement ring last December on the Shilo and carried it with him ever
since, on the ground, in the air, all the time. He had fully intended
to give it to Callie when the time was right. But this visit … her
parents … it made him wonder. Was he right for this woman? Would he
fit into her family? Oh, love is wonderful and grand and win conquer
all the problems-isn’t that the way the songs go?
    Yet under the passion there needs to be something else …
    a rightness. He wanted a woman to go the distance with. If Callie was
the woman, now was not the time. She wasn’t ready.
    And he wasn’t if she wasn’t.
    He looked disgustedly at the ring, then put it back into his pocket.
    The evening sun shone through the branches of the old oak. The window
was open, a breeze wafted through the