Truth, Lies, and Second Dates - MaryJanice Davidson Page 0,47

tell me that right now.”

“Irrelevant to the story. I pity you, India, with your closed mind and refusal to embrace the weird.”

“I embrace the weird every time I climb into the cockpit with you.”

Before she could retort (good one, though!), they heard G.B.’s distinctive “shut up, there’s a passenger in tow” knock. “To be continued,” she told her copilot, then turned to greet the newcomers.

“Captain Ava Capp, First Officer India James, this is—”

“Holy sh … out, it’s Hannah!”

“Hi, Ava!”

G.B. smothered his laugh into his fist. “Did you just say ‘holy shout,’ Captain?”

Ava smiled to see them. There was G.B., taking up half the flight deck, cute-as-a-bug Hannah wearing a MAGE T-shirt, and, hovering uncertainly in the doorway: Doc Baker. She’d known they had boarded, of course, but preflight had kept her busy.

The girl put out a hand and, bemused, Ava shook it. “Uncle Tom’s glad you’re the captain.”

“Oh?”

He was glancing around the cockpit and at India, and Ava realized that he was wondering if her copilot was the saboteur. Just as she had wondered about G.B. Tom was also looking exceptionally striking, which was irrelevant. And, it must be said, a little irritating. Why is he tan? He’s a nerd who hangs out in morgues; he should be sickly pale like a fish belly. And why is his gaze so direct and captivating? And why isn’t he wearing something wildly unflattering like almost every other person on this flight?

And why do I give a shit about any of it?

“It’s nice to see you again, Captain Capp.”

So that’s how they were doing it. Okay, then. “Thank you, Dr. Baker.” To India, who was staring at the child like she was an oracle come to life (an oracle with shaggy bangs and a missing front tooth and … was that a Cone of Shame bandage?), she added, “Hannah’s one of a kind. I know that’s technically true for everyone on the planet, but it’s really, really true for her. And there are too many people on my flight deck. G.B., please escort Dr. Baker to his seat. I’ll walk Hannah back when we’re finished here. If that’s okay with you, Tom.”

“It is, Ava, thank you.” With that, he turned and left with G.B.

“Oh-ho.” This from India, but she declined to engage.

“I’m glad you’re friends again,” Hannah said.

“Huh? We weren’t really friends before. I’ve known him less than a week. It was never going to … y’know. Go anywhere.” Why am I having this conversation with a child?

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“That’s the point. He liked you so much after less than a week. Even when he thought you might have killed someone. Or had guilty knowledge of killing someone. Or made a mess with the dead girl’s ashes.”

India’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me, what?”

“Think how Uncle Tom will feel in a month!” She turned to India. “May I ask a personal question?”

“I have no idea.”

“Were you named after India the peninsula, India the country ruled by the British until 1947, India the republic, or India ink?”

“I was named after my uncle.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Tradition. I hadn’t considered that. Which was foolish now that I think about it. I’ll need to recalculate the variables…”

“Did you have any questions about the flight deck?” Ava gestured to the dizzying array of instruments and screens, often incomprehensible to passengers. “Or flying in general? Or about becoming a pilot? Or your plans to eventually conquer the Northern Hemisphere?”

“Mmmmm.” Hannah was looking at the instruments with a small frown, eyes moving back and forth as she scanned the array in a way that definitely didn’t remind Ava of a terminator at all. “No, I’ve got it now, and I can research more tonight. I just came up so you and Uncle Tom could see and talk to each other.”

Ava stared. “You are terrifying.”

She grinned. “Thank you!”

Thirty

“I’ve returned her safe and sound,” she announced unnecessarily.

Abe smiled and tried to courteously rise, but had forgotten his seat belt and thumped back down. “Hello again, young lady!”

“Two lies. I’m pushing thirty, but thanks.”

“What are the odds that we’re flying on one of your planes?”

“Technically, it’s the airline’s plane.”

“Thousands to one, actually,” Tom said. “Particularly when you factor in all Northeastern Southwest flights and every city to which they fly.” He stood so Hannah could take her place in the middle and looked at Ava. “I hope you thanked the captain for letting you into the cockpit, Hannah.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ava put in hastily. “It was a pleasure to have her up there.” An intimidating, terrifying