“She could run in, grab what she needed and get right out—and then she could hurry back to her apartment. She needed to be alone to sit and think about what had just happened. She hadn’t imagined the woman; she was certain of that. But that was all she was certain of. She pulled into the crowded Base Exchange parking lot, and as she drove by the main entrance she noticed an empty parking spot—the closest spot to the front doors that wasn’t reserved for high-ranking officers. CC parked with a gro...wing sense of wonder. “I am having some seriously good parking luck today,” she murmured. The Base Exchange, known by military personnel as the BX, reminded CC of a weird cross between an upscale department store and a flea market. Tinker’s BX was no exception. Just inside the front doors, but before she entered the body of the Exchange itself, was scattered booth after booth of sales people hawking everything from deli sandwiches to “designer” handbags and jewelry. CC hurried past the colorful area and impatiently let the BX worker check her ID.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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