Fifteen Years After My Father Changed the Locks, He Seated Me at Table Twenty-Two
“Let him think that until eight o’clock tonight,” David said.
I got back to my hotel room at three in the afternoon and locked the door behind me.
The air conditioner rattled in the window frame, pushing cold air across the small carpeted room.
I picked up the desk phone and dialed the direct extension at Scott Air Force Base.
“Public Affairs, Captain Simmons,” the voice answered on the second ring.
“Simmons, it’s General Ulette,” I said.
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