“I don’t want to mess with your phone. Some people have issues with that.”
“We both know I’m not one of those people.”
“You never know,” she mumbled. “This isn’t flight information. It says when to be ready, when you’ll get picked up…and then there’s hotel information. Good gracious. Are they paying for that hotel?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’ve heard of the Edgewater. It’s fancy.”
I peered at the screen. The font was gigantic. “Get some glasses, woman.”
“She thinks they make her look old.” Dizzy glanced over at the phone.
“Well, this makes you look blind.” I pointed at the screen. “It’s probably a sister hotel or something. This is the MLE office. They aren’t splurging. They don’t even have the money to splurge.”
“If you say so.” Callie handed the phone back. “Driver, which airline are you going to?”
“You’ll be going by private jet,” he answered.
“Is this an FBI investigation or something?” Dizzy sounded confused.
I knew how he felt. “Whose jet is it?”
“I wasn’t given the particulars, ma’am,” the driver said. “I was just told when and where to get you, and where to drop you off.”
“You really should question more often,” Callie said in a low voice. “He could be taking you somewhere, right now, to kill you. And you don’t even have yoursword on you.”
“I don’t need my sword to use my magic,” I said. “And besides, we’re headed in the right direction for the airport.”
“She’s right, though, Reagan.” Dizzy looked out the window. “You are too trusting.”
“The email came from the captain. I trust him. Clearly he’s got something worked out. This is all on the books.”
“You belong to the magical world.” Callie’s voice was still low—an effort to hide her words from the driver, but it ended up a whisper-shout, still perfectly audible. “People sell out other people all the time. I don’t care who it is—don’t trust anyone.”
“Even you?” I grinned.
“Of course not me. Is this your rebellious stage? Because I’m not liking it.”
“I had that when I was a teen. This is just me taking the piss.”
“That means making fun of you, dear.” Dizzy patted Callie on the thigh.
“I know what it means,” Callie snapped.
Dizzy and I smiled harder.
A half-hour later, the driver pulled right up onto the tarmac by a waiting private jet. Outside stood a woman in a flight attendant uniform with an aviator pin at her breast. Stairs led from the jet’s open door down to theground, and a red carpet led away from them.
A sinking feeling lodged in my gut as I got out of the car and retrieved my bag.
“This seems awfully luxurious for what we’re doing here,” Dizzy said with a furrowed brow. He took his suitcase from the trunk and stood beside me. “That’s a big one, too. It can fly internationally.”
“How do you know?” Callie looked wary as she looked up at the gleaming white jet cut with blue at the bottom.
“I’ve looked them up. I dream big.” Dizzy hitched up his pants.
“Ms. Somerset, so good of you to join us.” The woman standing beside the steps came forward with a red-lipped smile. “Will your friends be joining you?”
