Crash Landing. Becky Avella
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control tower. And if she put a Mayday out on the radio, that pilot in the meadow would be able to hear it and tell the men chasing them of their exact location.
They were on their own.
“I’ve got to head back for the airport,” Deanna said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He rested his head back. “We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“Yeah, me and my brilliant ideas.” Why wasn’t he yelling and accusing her of almost getting him killed? “I hope you don’t think I expect you to still pay me for this disaster.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m grateful,” he said, looking out the window. “If it weren’t for you, that could still be going on behind my back. I needed to know.”
She sighed. Instead of blaming her, he was thanking her. Sean had always been such a good guy, even when he was a little kid. If you thought Sean, you thought nice. No one would ever say that about her, that was for sure.
“Maybe it would be better not to know. You know, ignorance is bliss and all that.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You gave me a new lead to look into with Dad. I haven’t had one in years. I can’t wrap my head around him being involved in anything illegal. But what do I know? I thought he wasn’t the type to ever leave us, either.”
“Hopefully, this has nothing to do with him,” she said.
“Hopefully,” he agreed wistfully. “But I’d rather have the truth hurt than not know anything at all.”
* * *
Sean exhaled, his mind racing. He sorted everything that had happened into categories and tried to prioritize what to think about first. One thought kept rising to the surface, demanding that he think about it even if it hurt. Was his family involved in this in any way? Was it just coincidence that they were using Loomis-Callaghan land, or was Sean a fool who’d been intentionally kept in the dark?
And who were the others he was referring to, anyway? “Did you recognize anyone?” he asked Deanna.
“A few. I saw Rex Turner,” she said, frowning. “Our businesses are steps away from each other. I see him every day, and I eat my lunch at the Wagon Wheel a couple times a week at least. He’s always been so nice to me.”
Sean nodded. “And I think I broke Greg’s nose.”
“I can’t imagine Greg being involved in this. At least, I don’t want to imagine it.”
“Me neither.”
Greg Martin was one of their former classmates. He wasn’t someone either of them would have called a close friend, but definitely more than an acquaintance. Another twelve-year vet who’d started kindergarten with them. In school, Greg was the clown, the guy everyone liked because he made people laugh.
“I bought a fishing license from him at the hardware store last week,” Sean said. “I’ve been laughing all week at a joke he told me. I never would have guessed this.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to be finding out a lot more people we’d never expect are in on this,” Deanna said. “I wish I could unknow all this. If I could go back, I’d never land in that meadow.”
* * *
There had been something else Deanna saw down there that Sean should know, but he wasn’t going to like it. She cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully.
“You’re pretty tight with Sheriff Johnson, right?” she asked.
“Jim’s one of my best friends,” Sean said. “Why?”
“I saw the sheriff’s department decal on one of the trucks down there.”
She added quickly, “I didn’t see the sheriff. It just seemed strange that one of their vehicles would be anywhere near there.”
“Maybe they’re making an arrest,” Sean said.
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” she mumbled unconvinced, but her attention was back on the fuel situation. It was dropping rapidly.
“Uh, this isn’t looking good...”
Before she could say more, the noisy buzz of the engine went dead quiet. A small cry of alarm escaped her lips.
“What just happened?” Sean asked, his voice too loud against the silence.
Deanna shook her head. Her vocal cords rebelled, as if speaking it aloud would make the situation more real than it already was. She swallowed. She was the pilot. It was imperative that she keep her cool.
“Tighten your seat belt, Sean.”
His frightened gaze met hers.
“The fuel tanks in the wings must have been hit by the bullets,” she explained.
“Are you telling me we have no fuel?”
Deanna closed her eyes briefly, then forced herself to admit it. “We have no fuel and no working engine, either.”
She wished she and God were on better terms. Help me. It was all she knew to say. “You’re a religious man, right?”
“Religious isn’t exactly how I’d define it, but I guess you could say that.”
“Then I recommend you start praying.”
“Are we crashing?” He asked, his ever-steady voice finally wavering.
“No. We are not crashing,” Deanna insisted. “But get ready, because we are going down for an off-airport landing.”
“A what?”
She pointed out the window. “See that alfalfa field?”
“Yes. I own it.”
“Well, now it’s our new airport.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was.” She met his gaze again. “Brace yourself.”
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