“Bye.”
Looking over my shoulder, I wonder if I should go back. Tell Ethan. Handle it together. Then I think of that evil fuck getting to Nate before I do and I hustle up the jet stairs.
The thirteen hours in flight are spent in endless, stomach-churning anxiety. What if Gavin gets to them first?
“You’re gonna wear a hole in my carpet runner if you don’t stop pacing,chere.”Georges is looking at me disapprovingly, working on a chicken leg in the galley kitchen.
“Shouldn’t you be flying the plane?” I snap.
“It’s on autopilot,” he says, picking up a wing next.
“The last time I was on a jet and the pilot was all, “Oh, it’s on autopilot, we crashed in the Cairngorms.”
He chuckled for a moment before his eyes widened. “What, you’re serious?”
“Yes.”
He heads back to the cockpit, taking the plate of chicken with him.
Once I’m alone, I pull out the Glock and look it over. I’ve never fired one of these before and I want to make sure I understand how it works. I wasn’t lying when I told Ethan I’d taken self-defense lessons, I just took them from a lunatic redneck in Arkansas while I was waiting for my fake passport and ID to come through.
I should sleep, right? So I’m fresh and focused when we get there? I can’t sleep. Putting the gun away, I start pacing the aisle again. I’ll buy Georges a new carpet runner.
“Welcome to Puerto Limón. Please unfasten your seatbelt and return your trays to their upright position.”
Startling awake, I see Georges grinning at me. He looks fresh as a daisy, which means the autopilot did most of the heavy lifting, but we’re here.
“How much for you to wait for me?”
He looks offended. “I’m no Uber driver!”
“I know, Georges, but I can double your fee for a return flight. I’ll have a couple of friends with me.”
“Are you moving drugs?” he asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I thought you were just some bored rich white girl who wanted an adventure.”
That makes me laugh. “No, you can check my backpack and the closest thing you’ll find are some cherry-flavored cough drops. No, two people I’m talking about… just friends.”
He blows some chicken-scented breath at me while he thinks about it. “Three hours. I get itchy, I can’t stay any longer than that.”
“Thank you, I’ll buy you a new shirt,” I say in relief, “a nice one. Silk.”
“What’s wrong with the one I have?” He looks genuinely wounded.
“Nothing, nothing,” I wave my hands appeasingly. “Okay, I’ll get going. Thank you.”
I need to walk a couple of miles to get to the outskirts of the city, and then there’s a car waiting for me at a rental place by the real airport. This airstrip has a small hanger and a fueling station, but I doubt it’s being used for anything legitimate.
It’s around 3am in Edinburgh, but it’s 9pm here. The sun’s just thinking about setting and I still have enough light to skirt the giant potholes in the road. Pulling out my burner phone, I call Carmella.
“Hey, I’m here. Are you two okay?”
“Thank god,” she sighs. “Yes, we’re okay. We’re staying in a cottage at the end of one of the big tourist resorts. Believe me, noone notices us here. They’re all too busy getting drunk and trying to get laid.”
“Yeah, that sounds right.” I stumble over a loose rock and right myself. “I’ve got us a flight out of here but we need to be at the airfield within three hours. Give me the address, it shouldn’t take me more than half an hour. Is Nate doing okay with all the changes?”
“He’s not thrilled, I didn’t want to tell him you were coming until I knew for certain.”
I walk faster. “I’m almost there. I’ll be there soon. Tell him I love him, okay?”
