“Oh, stop it. You traveled all over the world for the National Eye. Surely some small planes were involved.”
“They were. I’ll be fine.” But he still sounded funny.
“What happened? Something happened, didn’t it?”
Alden sighed. “My father’s a private pilot. He took my brother and I up sometimes when we were kids. He was trying to land in a storm and—well, we had a hard landing short of the runway.”
A shiver ran through Roz. She could’ve lost Alden before she even met him. “How hard of a landing?”
He lifted one shoulder, not taking his eyes off the road. “A wing broke off. But we were OK.”
“A wing broke off? What in the actual— How have you not told me this before?”
“It never came up.”
And the timing of his story wasn’t great, given they were about to fly in Sebastian’s plane, but she did ask. She wasn’t nervous, though. She looked forward to the flight. She’d never flown in a small plane.
“Do you want to stay behind?” she asked him.
“Hell, no. I’m OK with flying. As you pointed out, I’ve flown a lot. I just always take a moment to think about my mortality before I get on a flight, and I try to eat dessert first. Preferably with a good whiskey.”
She wasn’t sure if he was joking. “OK, if you’re sure. I think it’s kind of an adventure.”
“I never thought you’d be a secret adventure girl.”
“Maybe you’ve given me a taste for danger.”
“Ha,” he said. “I haven’t even gotten started. Here we are.”
The entrance to the airport bore a vertical rack of signs touting tourist flights, flying lessons, helicopter rides, biplane rides, an aerial sign-towing company, generically named aviation firms, and the Comet Cove Sheriff’s Department Aviation Unit. Which Roz happened to know supported only visiting aircraft from the county or the state police, since their town was way too small to afford any flying machine bigger than a drone.
They followed Sebastian to a parking lot behind one of the hangars and exited their vehicles. Alden threw his jacket into the Miata, and Roz left her bag behind, taking only her camera. She didn’t want any carry-on luggage.
She trailed the guys through a small door, past an enclosed office and into a cavernous space with a tall, gently peaked ceiling.
The big doors were open, facing the runway. Two planes sat on the shiny concrete floor—one red and white, the other a bright yellow biplane with a tool-covered cart sitting next to it.
“Whoa,” said Alden, who had an eye for cars. Maybe he liked good-looking aircraft, too.
Roz personally hoped Sebastian’s plane was the red-and-white one. It looked more modern and less likely to force her to wing-walk. She was relieved when he walked toward it.
Then a head popped up from the cockpit of the biplane. “Seb! You going out?” called a man with tousled blond hair and a tan and weathered face.
“Jesus, Chuck, you startled me,” Sebastian exclaimed.
Chuck climbed out and hopped to the floor in his stained tan mechanic’s jumpsuit, wearing a wily smile. “Just thought I’d work in some time on my baby between jobs. Hey, Alden.”
Roz looked at Alden in surprise.
“Chuck, good to see you in your natural environment.”
“Haven’t seen you much around the Rusty Rocket lately,” Chuck said.
“I’ve been busy,” Alden replied. “Working a lot.”
“I know how that is.” Chuck looked toward her expectantly.
Sebastian introduced Roz. “Chuck does a lot of maintenance work for people around here, including my Cessna.” He turned to the mechanic. “Can you give me a hand?”
