at him. “Sign up for what?”
“For the class,” he said. “I want to learn to fly.”
She laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Why?” he asked. “I’ll need to know how to fly once this park gets off the ground.”
“My class is full.”
“You can fit one more in.”
“I don’t want you here!”
He smiled. “I know you don’t. But if you think about it, it would be the smart thing to do. That way you could keep your eye on me. Make sure I don’t skip town.”
“There’s nothing that says you can’t skip town just because you’re taking a class.”
“True. But I really do want to learn to fly, Carny. It’s always been a dream of mine. I’ve just been too busy. Come on, I’ll pay you in advance. Cash. And I’m a quick learner.”
She waved at her students assembling in her classroom. Well, he was right about at least one thing. She would be wise to keep an eye on him. And the more money she could take from him, the better. After all, his cash had come from the people of her town. Maybe she could use it to help out those who could least afford to lose it.
“All right, Brisco,” she said. “I charge forty dollars an hour, plus plane rental. To get a private pilot’s license, you’ll need ground school plus at least twenty instructor hours in the plane, and at least twenty solo hours.”
He smiled and pulled out his wallet. “And you call me a con artist.”
“FAA rules. And that’s cash in advance for you,” she said. “And frankly, I wouldn’t be comfortable letting you solo in my plane.”
He looked insulted. “You think I’m going to steal your plane?”
“I’d rather not take chances. You can get your solo hours somewhere else.”
He pulled out ten one-hundred-dollar bills and dropped them in front of her. “How’s that?”
Something tightened in her chest. Was she really going to have to teach him how to fly? Snatching the money angrily, she went into the classroom. He started to follow. “You can’t start tonight,” she said. “I only have enough materials for five students at a time, and besides, these people are halfway through ground school.”
“When do you have another class?”
“I have one for kids after school on Tuesdays and adult classes on Saturday and Monday nights. But they’re all in progress.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to start a new class just for me.”
“The price I gave you wasn’t for private lessons,” she said.
He laughed and reached into his wallet. “Boy, your daddy taught you well.”
Something in her snapped. She took a step closer, glaring into his eyes. “There’s a difference between a con artist and a business person, Brisco, and you know it. If you don’t like my rates, find another instructor.”
He opened his wallet. “Why don’t you just take what you need and give me back what’s left?”
“Fine.” Taking the wallet out of his hand, she counted out the bills she needed, wondering if it added up to what her in-laws had given him. “That ought to do it.”
He looked down at the few bills she gave back to him. “This better be good.”
“Oh, it will be,” she said. “I have a delivery to make in Sherman tomorrow, but I should be back by mid-morning. Meet me here at ten for your first lesson, Brisco.”
eight
Logan was right on time for his lesson the next day, and Carny launched into the first session of ground school, which was an overview of the parts of the plane. But Logan already knew most of them, what their uses were, and many aviation terms. Some of his knowledge applied more to commercial jets than to small single-engine planes. He’d posed as a pilot many times to cash Montague’s homemade Delta payroll checks at the airport terminals. He’d claimed to have a degree from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, one of the leading schools for commercial pilots, so he’d learned enough to make that plausible. He’d deadheaded on many a flight, posing as a pilot catching a ride between airports, listening to the talk in the cockpit and watching the captains and first officers work. Now he’d have the chance to find out how to actually get the plane off the ground.
Halfway through the lesson, Carny put her hands on her hips. “How do you know all this stuff?” she asked him.
“I fly a lot,” he told her.
“You don’t pick this up sitting in coach,” she said.
He shrugged. “Who says I fly coach?”
“You don’t get it