Tony snapped. “Telephone the police and report that a child is with her mother. That’ll send them running, all right. Superb.”
“I can’t let an unlicensed pilot waltz off with one of my aircraft—”
“Tony, get his other arm.” Ian came round the desk to take Garrett Byrne by the elbow. “We’re locking him in the closet.” So much for the line we won’t cross, Ian thought. He wasn’t just stepping over that line, he was vaulting across it, perfectly willing on Ruth’s behalf to bolt Garrett Byrne in with the cleaning supplies. Garrett seemed to realize it.
“Jesus—” He yanked out of Ian’s grip. “Jordan, is this true? You were right all along, your stepmother is . . .”
Jordan nodded, white faced.
“Jesus.” He gulped it this time, looking at Nina. She gazed back, eyes slitted. “Mrs. Graham, you’d better bring Olive back without a scratch, or—” But Jordan was already flinging her arms around him in a violent thank-you, Nina was calling for maps, and Garrett pulled free and went jogging off to have the Travel Air 4000 fueled.
Tony looked at Ian. “Is this really going to work? Riding to the rescue in a biplane; this is something out of a serial where damsels get tied to railway tracks.”
“It will work,” Ian said with all the conviction he could muster.
“Only way to beat a car to the cabin,” Nina said calmly, pawing through the maps. Her doubt and guilt had gone, Ian saw in relief—she had a mission to fly and the navigator in her had snapped to the fore, all business. “If I can land. Jordan, you say there is flat spot nearby, no trees? Show me—”
Soon they were all jogging for the runway, Olive standing proud in her blue-and-cream paint. Nina tugged flight goggles on. She could have been a ludicrous sight, goggles and boots and a Filene’s summer dress, but she was all cool, hard competence. “Plane can take four. Two each cockpit.”
“That’s not safe,” Garrett began.
Nina ignored him. “Is crowded but possible.” She looked over her shoulder at Ian. “Jordan with Tony in front, you fly with me.”
Ian had been afraid she would say something like that. “It would be far safer to fly with Tony, while Jordan and I follow in the car—”
“I fly four out of Taman once when U-2 behind me is chased down and the engine holed. Galya and I have to ferry the pilot and navigator. Was like flying a brick, but she stays up. Mostly.” Tony was already settling into the passenger cockpit up front, Jordan scrambling after him. Nina crooked a finger at Ian, who fought a gripping wave of the deepest panic he’d ever felt in his life.
Nina felt the same panic when she threw herself into Lake Rusalka, he thought. She could have let it take over, let herself sink, and then there would have been no one to bear witness to Seb’s murder.
Ian fought his stuttering heart down out of his throat and stepped up onto the wing. “Don’t fail me, comrade,” he said through gritted teeth, and dropped into the cockpit.
WHEN OLIVE’S WHEELS lifted from the ground and Ian saw the first terrifying glimpse of the earth falling away below, he wanted to shut his eyes and bury his face in his wife’s hair. It was all scent and touch and noise up here in the tiny world of wind and metal, fabric and sky. It ravaged his ears.
The cockpit was so tiny it felt like being jammed inside a cartridge, Ian folded into the seat and Nina folded into him, her back against his chest, his arms welded around her waist, every limb in contact, every twitch of muscle shared. We aren’t nailed together this close when we’re making love, Ian thought. He had no idea how Nina was managing the controls, wedged up against them as she was, but she did it with complete confidence. Ian kept his eyes on her instead of the terrifying sky, his wife’s hands moving over those strange dials and levers like a pianist, and felt a flash of terrified pride in her skill.
She shouted something he couldn’t hear. How long the flight lasted, Ian had no idea. To him it lasted forever, then forever took on a new meaning as the engine died.
She’s doing it on purpose. She knows what she’s doing. Bringing them down toward Selkie Lake without the engine so that there would be no warning mechanical thrum to give their presence away. But all his instinct