Ghostrider - M. L. Buchman Page 0,83

ground.

The moment they deplaned, Holly threw herself at them and locked them both in a hard hug. Protests and complaints of pain made no difference.

Miranda made sure that her own welcomes were gentler.

“I’m so very pleased to see you.”

Mike touched her cheek, then rubbed his fingers together. “I feel the same, Miranda.”

She brushed at her own cheeks, surprised to discover that they were wet.

They all laughed, briefly, but it died fast and felt awkward.

Jon flagged her from the cockpit of the little Learjet.

“Oh, I didn’t realize he was staying.” She hurried to unlock the hangar door.

“Duh!” Holly’s voice sounded behind her.

When it slid open, the pine scent of the Northwest was replaced by the sharper smells of fresh paint and new leather. She squinted into the dim depths of the hangar. Wonderful!

Then she stepped aside and let the others enter first.

They were halfway across before anyone noticed the new wall, sectioning off the back of the hangar. Holly was first, as usual, “By crikey.”

Jeremy and Mike both blinked in surprise, but couldn’t seem to find any words at all. The door stood open. A small envelope hung beside an outer keypad, which would be the default combination for the new room’s security system.

Jeremy and Mike crossed the threshold side by side and stumbled to a halt. Miranda tried going up on tiptoes to see over their shoulders, then tried looking between them to no avail.

Holly finally pushed the two boys far enough apart that she could step between them. Miranda followed through the brief gap.

“Well, I’ll be stuffed, mate!” Holly amended her assessment.

The renovation crews had been working hard for the two days they’d been gone.

The back of the hangar now had two large windows facing the runway, and a third facing south over Puget Sound. The one-way glass barely dimmed the view. The golden dawn filled the visible sky and glinted off the ice-capped towers of the Olympic Mountains. Now, not only could she hear the distinctive sound of a Cessna 172’s Lycoming four-cylinder engine and two-blade propeller lifting off the runway, she could see its happily blinking navigation lights. The two passengers were just visible in the front seats, silhouetted against the lightening sky.

The new-built room had been finished in soft pastels. She liked the distinction from her wood-finished home up on Spieden Island. She’d opted for a laminate floor with Douglas fir patterning to stand up to whatever abuses the future would bring, but she’d also selected several modern throw rugs.

With the views out the big windows, there was no need for art on the walls.

“This is amazing!” Jeremy had found his workbench. She’d doubled its size and added drawers below and cubbies above. The tool cabinets sat off to either side and she’d updated all of the equipment to a full digital test suite and a high-speed computer for modeling aerodynamics.

Mike ran his fingers over the top-of-the-line Breville Oracle home espresso machine and the matching Grind Control grinder-brewer as he inspected the kitchenette with a soft smile. Then, with a sigh of relief that Miranda was fairly sure was happy, he settled slowly into the vintage cordovan-leather Chesterfield wingback armchair she’d found for him.

Holly plunged into the oversized deep-cushioned armchair next to him and propped her boots on the stout teak coffee table. Her chair was centered directly across from the big-screen television that could run simulations from Jeremy’s bench, or movies.

Her own teak rolltop desk sat just to the side of the big windows so that she could watch the planes while she was working.

She could feel Jon come up behind her after rolling the Air Force C-21 into the hangar. He slid his hands around her waist from behind and laced his fingers as she laid her hands over his.

“Pretty nice digs you have here,” his whisper tickled her ear.

“Thank you.”

She didn’t yet know him well enough to get the right kind of chair for him. For now, he’d have to share one of the couches with either her or Jeremy.

69

Too exhausted to fly home, Miranda had opted to stay at the team’s Gig Harbor house. Holly had insisted on sleeping out on the couch so that she and Jon could have the privacy of a bedroom.

Despite the harrowing two days and the long morning and afternoon just catching up with events, Miranda lay wide awake at midnight.

Jon slept soundly beside her.

He had gone to some trouble to prove that he liked her in her NTSB clothes, liked taking them off her before introducing