It was close to two-thirty in the morning when Galen and Marc arrived at Mimi’s. Even that late, there were plenty of customers, but they were able to find a vacant table in the corner.
“Beer?” Marc asked. When Galen nodded, Marc went to the bar, returning with two bottles, handing one to Galen. “To a sort of successful night,” Marc said with a grin, raising his bottle.
“It could have been better,” Galen replied morosely, before taking a drink.
“Could have been worse, too, if we hadn’t shown up when we did. At least we saved one person.”
“Yeah. True. But how many did we miss?”
“Galen, are you always this downbeat at the end of the night?”
Galen smiled ruefully. “Not always, but sometimes, I guess. After all that we talked about tonight, I think I was hoping we’d find one—” he glanced
