Page 51 of Red Boar's Baby

Thornburg glowered sullenly, but it was clear he couldn’t come up with a plausible objection. With surprising suddenness, his resistance disappeared. “We do actually have a pilot and a plane. It’s a different type, a bigger one.”

“But it can still fly the same route? Would that make a difference?”

“I mean, sure. You’d see the same scenery.”

“Then let’s do it,” Costa said.

As they left the office following Thornburg, Diana said quietly, “Thanks for backing me up.”

“I’ll always back your play,” Costa said. “Although it’d be nice if I knew what it was.”

Diana leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Well, for one thing, when they reported the flight missing, they claimed it was flyingtoAlamagordo, not coming back after picking something up. That would’ve changed where we were searching. It means there’s a whole missing couple of hours.”

“What?” Costa gave her a sharp look. “Why didn’t that come up before?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible they reported it to the NTSB investigators as a mistake. It’s even possible that itwasan honest mistake. Things can get scrambled in the first hours following an accident, and it might have been reported incorrectly to us. But I’d like to see what the flight is actually like and how long it takes. I get it if you don’t feel like flying all the way out to Alamagordo this afternoon.”

He didn’t really, but now he was as intrigued as she was, and it wasn’t like they were doing anything other than spinning their wheels here.

“I’m with you,” he said, and was rewarded by her eyes lighting up.

Thornburg had gone ahead of them and was talking to Benny and another man in the shade of a plane. He waved them over. “All right, this is what we’ve got available. You good to ferry these guys out to Alamagordo, Farley?”

“My pleasure,” said Farley. He was a big guy with a dark crew cut and aviator shades. When he clasped Costa’s hand, the tingle of shifter recognition hit hard. They both sized each other up; then Farley turned to shake hands with Diana. “Farley Dalton. I think we’ve got a copilot on this flight, isn’t that what you said, boss?”

“That’s right,” Thornburg said. “Since you’re flying out to Alamagordo anyway, I’m sending someone along with you. He’s a new pilot who needs more flight hours. I’m going back to file the flight plan now.”

Once he was gone, Benny went to fuel the plane, and Farley grinned at both of them. “Hey, nice to meet you. What are you folks flying out to Alamagordo for?”

“Private business,” Costa said before Diana could speak. “I heard you guys had a crash earlier this week. We’ll be safe in this, right?”

“Oh, safe as houses.” Farley slapped the side of the plane. “Come on in and check out your ride.”

They climbed up. Unlike the crashed plane, which had been tiny, more like the cab of an SUV, this one was like a scaled-down jet. It seated eight passengers in four rows of seats, one on either side of a narrow aisle. There was a pilot’s cockpit that had a lightweight folding door to seal it off from the cabin.

“It’s really not that different from flying in a 747, just smaller,” Farley explained. “If you’ve heard one preflight checklist, you’ve heard ‘em all. Emergency door is here. To open it, pull on the handle like this.”

He went on with the instructions. Costa glanced at Diana, expecting to see her eyes glazing over, but instead she was looking around the inside of the plane with a sharp interest.

When Farley wound down, Diana asked, “What’s it like flying one of these? How does it handle?”

“It should be a pretty smooth ride, don’t worry about it.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed. “I was asking from a technical standpoint. I’m a pilot.”

“No kidding?” Rather than warming up, Farley seemed suddenly, strangely distant. “What are you certified on?”

“Helicopters. I fly for the Park Service and do some S&R.”

Farley seemed to relax a little. “Fixed-wing aircraft aren’t that different. I’d offer you a ridealong in the cockpit, but I’ve got a copilot on this flight—oh, here he is now.”

“Howdy.” The second pilot had an indoor look to him, barely tanned, also large and heavyset—and distinctly tingling in Costa’s shifter sense. He had a square, freckled face and a baseball cap. Farley introduced him as Jim, and they shook hands all around.

“Well,” Farley said, clapping his hands together, “let’s get rolling. You folks just pick your seats back here, and we’ll have you in Alamagordo in no time.”

Diana picked a seat absently. She was frowning, looking after the pilots as they went up to the cockpit.

Costa texted the office to let them know about the side trip, then put his phone away. The plane’s engines fired up, and he turned to grin across the aisle at Diana. But she was still looking up the aisle through the opening into the cockpit, as if something was bothering her.

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