should have been privy to the details were me, my union rep, HR, and my direct supervisor. But my crew had heard.”
“Not surprising, given the nature of the tampered drug test.”
“Sorry, what? Elaborate for the clueless layman, please.”
“That’s only half right,” he said, smiling. “I researched the test favored by that particular lab. Their protocols are exacting—”
“Well, yeah. The FAA’s like that. And they tend to be pretty detail-oriented. They wouldn’t farm that particular lab work out to amateurs.”
“Precisely. It would have been much easier for the killer/vandal to crack their server and change the numbers as opposed to sabotaging your urine.”
“Well, if there’s anything I hate, it’s people sabotaging my urine.”
“And if he or she can do that, perhaps they can hack into other servers. Or your company’s intranet.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“Shit.”
“Quite.”
“I gotta think about what that means,” Ava said. “Right now, I’m thinking it’s nothing good.”
“And this is speculation on my part. I have no proof. And perhaps your union representative is a heartless gossip.” At Ava’s snort, he continued. “But I think you should proceed by assuming the killer has access to your e-mails and anything Ava-related on the company servers, and plan accordingly.”
“Fucking great.”
“And … may I ask an unrelated question?”
“Hit me.”
“I was researching the articles about your belly landing and got to wondering … your fellow pilot’s aneurysm aside, how often do such things happen?” He leaned forward. “Statistically speaking, it’s bound to happen, if infrequently. But … how often? Not murder, perhaps, but a passenger succumbing to a myocardial infarction or the like and dying in the air?”
“Well, first, we don’t call it ‘dying in the air,’ because yikes, think of the other passengers. It’s classified as a ‘catastrophic incident.’ And besides the belly landing, it only happened twice on my shift, and only once when I was the pilot. Poor guy keeled over in First, total cliché: overweight business guy in a nice suit fretting about important meetings and refusing to put his laptop away.”
“But that’s insane. It could become a projectile.”
She nearly threw up her hands in victory. “Thank you! We’re not trying to ruin their good time. It’s just we’re prejudiced against pesky details like a passenger getting beaned in the brain by a laptop going 150 miles an hour. Or not hearing the safety lecture because of their headphones, then losing their shit when there’s an emergency landing. ‘Wait, who gets the oxygen mask first? My dog?’”
Tom laughed. “It would depend on the dog, I think.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I love my job. Except for, y’know, the daily contact with people.
“So anyway, my crew knew CPR and how to use the defib, so they did their best while I landed. We had to stop on the runway so the ambulance had a clear path to the plane; the paramedics boarded, did their best, whisked him away; and the other passengers were really nice about it. There were a lot of ‘wow, that puts being mad about my layover in perspective’ observations. He was pronounced at the hospital, but to be honest, given that three billion people are in the air every year, I’m amazed it doesn’t happen more often. Yes!”
This to the waitress who was laden with clams and salmon. Delighted, Ava put the sexy plastic bib around her neck, the better to avoid clam spatter as the waitress set down the bucket of steamers. “Ohhhhhh, I love these little buggers so much. What? It’s not wet bread.”
“Bottom feeder.”
“That doesn’t mean they only eat bottoms, just that they eat near the bottom. And back off with the judgment.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. My focus is keeping you safe and remaining in your good graces. Everything else pales.”
She stripped three steamers out of their shells, rinsed them, dipped them, ate them. “You’re not fooling me. I can tell you’re dying to comment. So go ahead and criticize these delightful little fruits of the sea.”
“Clams are mud dwellers that will eat anything, including particles of deceased animals.” He sighed and slumped back. “Thank you for letting me get that off my chest.”
“If you’re angling to get me to share some, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
She almost laughed to see him visibly shudder. “I’m not angling for that at all. At. All.”
“Sure. So, what? You’re here for MAGE but wanted to bodyguard on the side?”
“That’s exactly right. I’m officially on vacation for the next few days, so this won’t cut into my other duties.”
“You’re kidding!” She stared at him. “That’s so great. Above and