My Father Ordered Me to Strip Off My Uniform at His Cookout

him?”

“Doyle.”

Raymond almost smiled. “That tracks.”

Dad looked from him to me and back. His whole face had the stiff look he got when he was trying to solve a problem by refusing to admit it was one.

“You know each other?” he asked.

“Not personally,” Raymond said. “But I know the lane. And I know damn well they don’t hand out that shoulder sleeve insignia continue reading …