The Major in the Kitchen — The Night Wendell Pruitt’s Story Fell Apart

Ma’am.

Didn’t know you were here.”

“I didn’t know you were coming, Staff Sergeant.”

I turned to Rhodes. “Sir.”

“Major.

That’s quite an introduction.”

Then I looked at Wendell.

His hand, holding the same beer bottle he’d used like a pointer all evening, lowered inch by inch.