Chapter 44

14:35 Saturday, November 9^th, 1991

La Costa Resort and Spa

2100 Costa del Mar Road

Carlsbad, CA 92009

Junior Harding hadn't made his flight, though American came through, and he'd flown to Dallas, then San Diego. His hotel room in the La Costa was paid for, it had been waiting for him when he – finally – arrived. The long damned walk up the hill from the parking lot with his garment bag over his shoulder, in his now-thoroughly-wrinkled Service Alphas, the drab khaki uniform of the Marines, had him sweating in the winter-weight (for wear in Virginia) woolen uniform.

His room was in a side wing, to be near the Gunny's room, and the Gunny didn't have all the money in the world, he knew. Deb Reineau had set it up, she'd put them in the La Costa, probably for valet service and proximity to Pendleton.

He'd tumbled into bed at what, to him, was four AM, and had only gotten up an hour ago. The Gunny called, to tell him now was the time to get the ring, while Lenore was out getting a facial and massage.

The Gunny expected Lenore to pat him down for a ring, and, if Junior were to carry it to the Ball, she wouldn't feel it in any of his pockets. Junior didn't have to be asked twice, when the Gunny called him, he only asked where and when.

With a grimace for the state of the Service Alphas, he had little choice but to put the pants and shoes on. At least I can leave off the shirt garters. To hell with it, I'll go in pants and a tee-shirt.

The Gunny's room was eight doors down the curved hall. Junior thought about it, just before he knocked, and realized Deb's hand was at work there, also. If tonight goes like I think it will, there is no way I want to be within hearing distance of this room.

Predictably, that thought led him to wonder how long his current dry spell would be. It's not as if there are legions of women in Arlington who want to throw themselves at a man in a Marine First Lieutenant's uniform.

The Gunny answered the door at the first knock, and moved out of the doorway, letting Junior in. "Get in late?"

Junior nodded. "Four, no, make that one AM." He scowled at his watch. "It's hard to get a rental car after twenty-three hundred in San Diego International."

"Here it is," and the Gunny handed him a small jeweler's box, indigo blue with a silver 'S' embossed into the velvet of the top.

Junior opened it, to see a brilliant diamond solitaire on an impossibly slender ring. He closed the box quickly, and slipped it into his pocket. He looked up. "I'm really happy for you both, Gunny. She's what I think of if I'd ever had a kid sister."

"That'd make Ben your brother, and I can think of worse people to have as a brother." Junior saw the Gunny was lost in reflection for a moment, and held his silence. Then, "How are you going to do this?"

Junior nodded. "I'll find some junior officers who're willing to help. You'll know when it's time." Junior thought about it for a moment. "You want everybody to look at you or only those in the immediate vicinity?"

Five minutes later, Junior was back in his room and on the telephone, ordering a Western omelet with a side of hashbrowns from Room Service, while he ran the shower to get the water warm.