INDY HAD TOSSED and turned in her swag, sleep staying annoyingly just out of reach, and now it was nearly morning. Her conversation with Finn playing over and over in her mind. She was sure she’d heard him use the word Sarge, which was odd, because that was a police reference. What the hell was a contract musterer doing talking to a cop? And Finn’s lame excuse that it was the pet name he used when he was talking to his wife didn’t wash with her. No one called their wife Sarge. At least not to their face.
Indy liked to look at the stars before she went to bed. A nighttime ritual. It soothed her, so she could sleep easier. Looking up into all that great vastness made her feel like her own problems were small and insignificant. It put her world into perspective. The stars out here were just
