As Darkness Gathers (Dark Betrayals Book 2) (4 page)

“One hour, but there are snow storms in the area. They’ll probably divert us around those, so it may end up being closer to two. We’ll put on extra fuel, just in case. Aside from that, standard brief, no security issues.”

“Who’s flying with you today?”

“Bryan Phillips. You remember him?”

“Of course, I do. One of your old cronies.”

Chuckling, he shook his head and stepped into the flight deck. The first officer climbed the stairs shortly thereafter with the passengers close behind.
 

An elderly woman was the first passenger to board, and I met her halfway down the stairs.
 

“Good morning. Let me get that for you.”

“Thank you, dear.” The woman relinquished her small but weighty bag before clutching the lapels of her floral coat with one hand and the railing with the other.

“What seat are you in? I’ll stow your bag for you.”

She paused at the top of the stairs and pulled her boarding pass from her pocket. “I can never read these things.”

I looked at it over her shoulder. “Three A. Just a few rows back, and yours is the single seat on the right. If you’d like to go ahead, I’ll be behind you with your bag.”

Once she was settled in her seat and I’d placed her bag in the overhead, I returned to the boarding door and greeted the other passengers. They were all men. Two were obviously businessmen, wearing suits, carrying briefcases, and holding phones to their ears. One ignored me, the other nodded when I welcomed them aboard. The next two were a father and son, and I realized they must be Gayle’s relatives. The father was a tall man with a lean, rangy build, and his son was a teenager with headphones planted in his ears—shorter, but almost an exact replica of the man.
 

The last man to board said hello before I could, ducked his head as he entered the plane, and flashed me a lethal smile. He stowed his bag—a simple duffel—and then closed the bin before standing with his head bent and shrugging out of his charcoal gray overcoat. He moved with such ease and confidence I couldn’t help but watch him. He glanced up as he took his seat—1A, directly across from my jump seat—and caught me staring. That disarming grin came out again, and I glanced away, flustered.

I made the requisite announcements over the public-address system and did a quick walkthrough to verify everyone was in their seats and all bags were stowed. The exit rows were empty, so I was saved from giving the briefing.
 

As I secured my galley, William Beecher, the airline owner’s son and Sydney’s brother, tripped up the stairs and stood hesitantly inside the boarding door.

“Hi there, Will.” I kept my voice soft and made certain not to touch his fingers when accepting the pink slip of paper from him.

“That’s the . . . maintenance and . . . fuel report for the captain.” His words were slow and carefully enunciated, his tone dull and monotone. He’d survived a car accident as a teenager and the resulting head injury still affected him as a man.

“Thank you, Will. I’ll hand it to them.”
 

He twisted his orange hat in his hands and shuffled his feet, refusing to meet my gaze.
 

My smile turned sad, and as much as I wished to reach out and calm the nervous tremor in his hands, I refrained. He didn’t care for anyone to touch him. “I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”

He retreated down the stairs, planting both feet on each step before moving to the next.
 

When I turned, I realized the man in 1A had been watching the exchange. He didn’t bother looking away as I caught his gaze, and I felt his stare on my back as I leaned into the cockpit and handed off the slip.

“You gentlemen ready for me to close you in up here?”

Edgar smiled over his shoulder. “We’re good. In the back?”

“Locked and loaded.”

“All right, then.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” I secured the flight deck door and received the final report and go-ahead from the gate agent to close the boarding door. I played the safety recording while most of the passengers ignored it.

The older woman was sleeping, her head lolled to the side. The father and son ignored one another. One businessman stared out the window, and the other shuffled through his briefcase. When I glanced at the man in 1A, though, his gaze was fixed on me as he held the safety information card in front of him.
 

I hid a smile as I packed away the demo equipment.
A rule follower
.
 

“Good morning, folks, this is your captain speaking.” There was a crackle of static, and then Edgar continued. “We want to thank you for choosing to fly with Sylvan Air. There is some weather along our route today. We’ve just spoken with air traffic control, and they’re rerouting us to try to avoid the worst of it. That will, however, push back our arrival in Ottawa about an hour. We’re going to get you there as quickly and safely as we can, and you’ll be in the excellent care of the lovely Miss Finch for the duration.”

“Rascal,” I said under my breath.

“We’ve been cleared for takeoff, so we ask that you sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. We’ll update you with more information as it comes to us. Finch, please be seated for departure.”

I made one last check to make sure everything in the galley was secured and the lavatory door was locked. 1A had his legs stretched out in front of him, but he drew them back as I folded down the jump seat.

“Finch is an unusual name.” His voice was a low baritone. “Does your mother have a passion for birds?”

“A passion for literature, actually.” I adjusted the cabin lighting to dim and took my seat.

“Atticus wouldn’t suit you as well as Finch does.”

I raised my eyebrows as I drew the shoulder harness over my chest and clipped it at my waist before tightening the straps. Few ever guessed the source of my name so easily and quickly. “Atticus would have been too much responsibility to carry.”

He had creases around his eyes and his firm mouth, evidence he used that sudden smile often, and he flashed it at me now. It hinted at roguish tendencies, and it made me want to lean closer and speak in a whisper, as if sharing secrets.
 

“Though you’d have handled it with aplomb, I’m sure.”

He was smooth, that suave charm coming out with too much ease not to have been practiced, but his gaze was direct and intent, and I was intrigued.
 

“I have a brother named Darcy. He hates it, but I always tell him to count himself lucky. He could have ended up as a Queequeg.”

The man laughed, a smoky rumble that reverberated in my breastbone and made me chuckle along with him. “I’d prefer Starbuck to that. Even Ahab.”

“I don’t know. I’ve always been partial to Queequeg,” I said.

Intelligent and charming
.
 

The roar of the fully throttled engine cut off further conversation as the plane gained speed down the runway. I folded my arms over my chest and pressed my head and shoulders against the backrest. The front wheel lifted off the ground, soon followed by the back, and we were airborne.
 

1A glanced out the window and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I told myself I shouldn’t stare, but I had the opportunity to study him more closely and I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
 

His sandy hair wasn’t military short, but it was close-cropped. He wasn’t overly tall; I’d have guessed he stood right at six feet. His shoulders were broad, his torso tapering to his waist. He was well built, not as lean as a runner, but not bulky. He looked like the type who could confidently fix a woman’s car when it broke down. There was a put together, polished feel about him, though, that made me suspect he worked in an office rather than as a laborer and probably held a high-powered position. His hands looked firm but not calloused, his nails clean and trimmed, though not manicured.
 

My speculation was interrupted when two chimes of a bell signaled we’d reached ten thousand feet in elevation, and the man opened his eyes and caught me staring.
 

I fumbled with the interphone and had to clear my throat before I was able to make the announcement notifying the passengers that they were now permitted to use approved personal electronic devices.

I waited until we leveled off before unclipping my harness then I unlocked the lavatory door and exchanged my heels for a pair of flats. After getting the drinks out of the miniscule galley, I began to make my way up the aisle.
 

“Nothing for me right now, thank you,” 1A said as I approached him.

“Club soda with lime,” said the businessman who’d ignored me during boarding, and I prepared his drink and handed it to him before moving to the next row.

“Excuse me,” he said as I passed, and I smiled in question. “I asked for a lime.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I only have lemons.”

He held out the slice of citrus on the skewer. “If I’d wanted a lemon, I would have asked for it.”

I kept my smile in place and my voice polite. “Of course. I apologize.”

“And this club soda tastes flat.”

“I just opened the can, but I’d be happy to bring you another.”

“Bring me the can, unopened, and a fresh glass of ice.”

“Certainly.”

Always one drama queen on board
.
 

I rounded the corner into the miniscule galley, and as I stooped to retrieve another can of club soda from the drawer, 1A caught my eye. A suppressed smile tugged at the edge of his lips, and I winked.
 

The first hour of the flight went smoothly aside from some mild, jostling turbulence and the grumblings of Mr. “I Asked for a Lime.” I was putting everything away from the beverage service after I’d gone through and refilled drinks when a bell sounded indicating a call from the flight deck.
 

Edgar spoke quickly. “Put a hold on whatever you’re doing right now, Finch.”

“Turbulence?”

“Supposed to be severe, so make sure everyone’s seated and secured. I’ll make the announcement while you do the walkthrough.”

As Edgar came over the public address system, I strode down the aisle checking each passenger. The elderly woman had taken her coat off and draped it over herself.
 

I touched her shoulder. “Ma’am?” I kept my voice soft, but she still jumped. “I apologize for startling you. I just need to make sure your seatbelt is fastened.”

She handed me her coat and fumbled for the dangling belts. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice a warble. “Are we in trouble?”

I knelt at her side, draped her coat over my shoulder, and guided her shaking hands into securing the belt low on her waist. “No, not at all. We’re just going to be experiencing some bumps, and for your own safety, your seatbelt should be fastened.”

She clutched my hands, the skin of her fingers like thin, wrinkled tissue paper. “I’ve never cared for flying, but my granddaughter just had a baby, and I promised I would come visit. I couldn’t back out when she and her husband bought me a ticket.”

I squeezed her hands in a gentle grip. “Your granddaughter will be thrilled that you made the trip for her. Your first great?”

“Yes.” She leaned closer, enveloping me in the scent of talc and a faint hint of lavender. “Lyla was always my favorite grandchild, though I’d never tell the others.”

I smiled and arranged her coat over her knees before standing. “And by having your first great-grandchild she has cemented her place as favorite, I bet.”

Her laugh sounded like the tinkling of a wind chime in a slight breeze. “She certainly did.”

As I moved to the front of the cabin, I kept a hand braced above me on the overhead bins. Even so, the first jolt would have knocked me off my feet had 1A not reached out and grabbed me.
 

I braced myself on his shoulders to avoid ending up in his lap. “Thanks,” I breathed, uncertain which had affected me more—the turbulence, or his firm, steadying grip on my waist.

“Sit.” There was an undercurrent of command in his voice, and I obeyed without thought when he nudged me toward the jump seat.

As I clipped the shoulder harness, the plane dropped so abruptly my stomach lurched into my throat, and the elderly woman cried out.
 

The rigorous jostling felt as if it lasted hours, though my watch said it was only thirty minutes. From my vantage point, I saw the white-knuckled grips on the armrests and the tense, sickly facial expressions. I glanced at 1A, but his eyes were closed, his jaw tight.

The sudden stillness came as abruptly as the turbulence had, and several minutes later, the public-address system crackled.

“Sorry about that, folks. We tried to find some smoother air at both higher and lower altitudes, but there was none to be found. It should be a mostly smooth flight from here on out. With the way air traffic control rerouted us to avoid the worst of the weather, we’ve flown to the west and north of Ottawa. In about ten to fifteen minutes, we’ll be turning south and beginning our initial descent. Again, we apologize for the bumps. We’ll update you—”