“Hold still a moment,” he said.

He reached out with his right hand, his fingers steady, and touched the gold oak leaf on my right collar.

He pinched the small brass fastener behind the heavy cloth and twisted it clockwise until it clicked tight against the metal post.

“Your husband spotted that pin at the coffee kiosk this morning, didn’t he?” Vance asked, the faint trace of a smile reaching his eyes.

“Daniel catches every loose thread, sir,” I said, lowering my hand to my side.