As the laughter around the table rose, my eyes settled on Ray Austin. He looked to be in his forties, older than most of the others, who appeared to be in their twenties and thirties. His thin frame leaned slightly forward, his glasses glinting in the candlelight. A neat handlebar beard framed his mouth, but it was his eyes—sharp and unreadable—that unsettled me. Even when he wasn’t looking directly at me, I could feel his presence. Something about him seemed out of place. In another ...