Page 71 of Shared By the Pilots

It wasn’t a person. It wasn’t drugs. And it wasn’t tequila. I squinted, then gasped when I recognized what it was.

“Is that…” Taylor said.

A voice behind me nearly made me jump: “Veronica?”

I whirled to see the last two people I expected: Luke Hendricks and Adam Mandalay. They were both wearing the nondescript uniforms of Excelsior crew.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

Luke gave a start. “I could ask you the same question. This is our plane!”

I turned and grabbed the suitcase, tilting it so they could see. “We caught them,” I said. “They’re smuggling…”

“We know,” Adam said, grimacing. “We already found out.”

Luke nodded. “They’re smugglingturtles.”

39

Luke

I was in love with Veronica.

Deeply, hopelessly, madly in love.

After spending a lot of time thinking about little elsebesidesher, I was certain of that now. Our few weeks apart had made it crystal clear to me. At first, I doubted my emotions. A drug addict would go through withdrawal and miss the needle after being clean for a week, but that didn’t mean the drug was good for them. Maybe I just needed more time.

Yet the longer I went without being with her, the more glaring her absence became. She was the last thing I thought about when I closed my eyes at night, and the first thing I thought about in the morning. At times, when my aircraft was humming along at our cruising altitude and there was only blue sky and white clouds all around, my thoughts drifted to her.

And when we were on the same flight crew together? It was torture. Sure, seeing her in the flattering Gulf Air uniform was part of it. She was a goddess in a skirt and high heels. But it was so much more than physical. Every time I heard her laugh at something Dexter said, or when I caught her smiling at Adam, it felt like my heart was being wrung out like a dishrag.

Once I stopped denying it, I started thinking about how I could get her back. The biggest wedge between us was her strange conspiracy about Excelsior. I still didn’t think I believed that anything fishy was going on; real life was rarely as exciting as the scenarios our imagination could come up with. But regardless of what I believed, I could support her by finding a way to help.

So I turned to an unexpected ally.

“Let me get this straight,” Adam Mandalay said while we sat down for coffee. “You don’t think anything weird is going on with Excelsior Air.”

“Right.”

“But you want me to help you investigate them anyway.”

“That is correct.”

“Because you want to get back together with Veronica.”

“Yes.”

“And you want me to help,” Adam said, “even though this goes against my own personal interests.”

“I just want to support Veronica,” I said. “Even if it doesn’t reverse her feelings, I want to help her.”

He sipped his coffee and stared at me from across the table. I got the impression he was trying to decide whether or not I was messing with him. I stared back coolly.

“I’m doing this either way,” I said. “But I know you’re dating Veronica too, and thought you might want to help. But if you don’t, then that’s fine.”

Adam took a sip of coffee, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll help.”

Next, I reached out to Bernie Langston about bringing on Adam as a backup flight attendant. I expected him to push back against it since he seemed to exclusively hire attractive women for the job, but to my surprise he didn’t require any convincing.

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