Patty leaned on Mick’s arm, not quite sure how she’d gotten there. She drank so rarely that the second beer had blurred reality long before she’d reached the bottom of the glass. She wasn’t even sure she had reached the bottom of it.
She squinted at the sky. The storm-ravaged night raging over the Aleutians had started as a partly sunny day in Anchorage. Above the Moose’s Tooth parking lot, a thin haze now turned the whole sky blindingly bright. Squinting behind her sunglasses wasn’t helping. Wait, she wasn’t wearing sunglasses. Patty found them tucked up in her hair and pulled them down. It didn’t help. No matter how she looked at it, it was two in the afternoon—a Night Stalkers’ two in the morning—she was tipsy and hanging onto…Mick. That was the most surprising thing of all.
“Ya know,
