Sunrise Point

jail?”
    “I had this girlfriend—Imogene. She wasn’t a very good girlfriend to start with—extremely high maintenance. But beautiful, very beautiful, with a body you wouldn’t believe. She was a waitress at a dive right off Ft. Benning. I used to ask her all the time why she didn’t look for more upscale work and she said military men were the best tippers. Especially the ones who couldn’t afford it. Hopeful, that’s what I think they were—hoping for a grope or at least a phone number. We were on and off, like oil and water. But one night when we were ‘off’ I’d had an unfortunate amount to drink and passed out, Imogene got knocked around. So, she called this asshole marine she knew from the bar, cried for him and told him her boyfriend beat her up. Fifteen years after the fact, I think she was looking for more than sympathy from the guy.”
    “But you didn’t, did you?” Shelby asked. “Hit her?”
    He shook his head. “I still can’t remember what happened to my hand, but no one turned up hurt or dead. No complaints from a door or wall. For a terrible few days I hoped to God I’d never hit a woman. I had a lot of flaws, but that wasn’t one of them. Even I had my limits—I’d never do something that low. And I’d only hit a man who made me. But this asshole marine called the MP’s and they threw me in jail with a promise of Leavenworth. There are two things in the military that guarantee arrest and jail time—DUI and battery domestic.”
    “I guess you got out of it,” Shelby said.
    “Not fast. I was in the brig, court marshal pending when a couple of my boys from Airborne training rounded up a few witnesses who said a customer got rough with her at the bar. She was pissed at me for not being there to defend her, or being there and not able to defend her. And I think she had her eye on the marine.” He laughed sardonically. “He shipped out while I was still in the brig, so that didn’t work out for her, I guess.”
    “Who was that?” Luke asked.
    “I don’t know his name but I’ll never forget his face. Just some jarhead who’d been to that bar a few times. Thought he was a goddamn hero. It’s a face I better never see again. I could forget that I stopped punching people.”
    “Did the woman get in trouble? For blaming you?” Shelby asked.
    “Nah. She was a civilian,” Coop said. “She finally allowed that it had been dark and she might’ve been mistaken. And she didn’t point at anyone so the MP’s were out of it. However, there were boys at the bar who caught up with a guy who bragged about teaching her a lesson. Problem number one—no one saw the incident occur and he might’ve bragged in the bar but when questioned, he knew nothing about it. They said they were real sorry when they let me out of jail. They also said if I wanted to avoid situations like that in the future, I might want to cut back on the drinking and try to date less vindictive women.”
    “And did you?” she asked.
    Coop rubbed his jaw. “Can’t remember the last time I got drunk, but I’ve never had great luck with women… .”
    “Ever married?” she asked. “Children?”
    “Almost married—twice. It didn’t work out. No kids. And I’m thirty-seven, kind of set in my ways. My life has changed a lot since I was twenty-two. I’ve been told I march to a weird beat. I guess I’m kind of a loner.”
    “No family?”
    “Oh, I have family,” he said. “Parents still living and three married sisters, a couple of nieces, couple of nephews. My family is all in Albuquerque, where I grew up. And I’ve been working the past ten years in either Costa Rica or the Gulf of Mexico for Texas-based oil companies.”
    “That sounds like more than one company,” Shelby said.
    Coop gave a lame shrug. “I never had a big role in the companies, the drilling, the pricing—my job was helicopter transport to the offshore platforms. But there are things you can’t help but see. When they get greedy and take chances on the people, on the wildlife and ecosystem… Let’s just say I get my back up. I’m a pilot—it’s safety first. Risk management. No amount of money is worth a life…”
    “Absolutely not!” Shelby agreed.
    “Not even the life of a duck,” he said.
    Luke laughed. “Coop’s gotten a little liberal there.”
    “Can’t help what I see,” he said unapologetically. “I can’t make the rules. I haven’t been a whistle blower, at least not yet, but I’m not going to