24
“How am I supposed to know where your general is?” Miranda squinted at Jon.
The sun over Aspen had risen high in the sky, but Jon stood just two steps away and almost due south, aligning his head and the sun closely. Even the wide brim of her HeliSee hat was marginal at best for distinguishing him from the blinding background.
“The question was rhetorical, Miranda.” Jon sighed.
“Then why did you ask it if you didn’t want to know the answer?”
“I very much want to know—” He growled deep in his throat. “Never mind.”
“That’s not something I’m very good at.” But Miranda’s reply was lost under the beating of rotors from the arriving AgustaWestland Trekker helo.
As soon as it was shut down, Brett climbed out. He flipped open the side-hanging equipment cage and opened the big cooler he’d
