Red Sky At Morning - DK4

by Melissa Good

  Josh chewed his lower lip unhappily. “Is he going to get in trouble?”

  The green eyes facing him twinkled a little. “How intimidating do I look?” Kerry chuckled. “No. He won’t get in trouble.”

  With a sigh of relief, Josh glibly coughed up the name of his boss, his boss’s boss—who’d told his boss—and the secretary who worked for the boss’s boss who was married to an ILS admin fairly high up in their sales department. Jose, you are so dead meat. Kerry decided, handing her now cooled towel back to the stewardess. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, really...just some incompatibility with infrastructure.”

  “Oh.” Josh nodded. “So, you’re going to go fix that?” He gazed at Kerry with new interest. “You one of their tech people?”

  “Something like that,” Kerry agreed solemnly. “You’re a programmer?”

  He nodded again. “Yeah. I just graduated from Georgia Tech. I’m working on this neat new application for the control of our sats, so they can squeeze more bandwidth out of them.” He held up his pad. “I kinda hit a snag, though. I’m not really sure how to write this one little routine.”

  Kerry gave him a suggestion. “Try that. It’s what we use on our big routers.” She sat back as her dinner was delivered, opening her lap tray and spreading the provided linen napkin neatly across her thighs. Hmm.

  She reviewed the tray the stewardess set down. It contained a plate with a petit filet mignon on it in some kind of nice smelling burgundy sauce, and what looked very much like a decent sized blob of whipped mashed potatoes. And a broccoli floret, for those who had inescapable attacks of food guilt. Kerry solemnly consumed the broccoli, then turned her attention to the steaming beef.

  “Wow, that works. Cool.” Josh laughed. “Hey, Ms. Stuart, are you married?”

  22 Melissa Good Kerry’s hands stopped in mid-cut. “Why?” She gave him a look.

  “You wanna be? I think I love you,” Josh burbled contentedly, making scratch marks on his pad.

  A sigh slipped out. “Sorry, I’m taken.” Kerry resumed cutting her meat and took a bite.

  “Yeah, yeah, but do they appreciate you for your mind, like I would?” Josh seemed totally absorbed in his program now, hardly aware of what he was saying. “Or are they just out after that pretty face?” His tie drooped into his burgundy sauce, but the sartorial accessory could have been a cobra for all he’d noticed.

  “Well...” Kerry drawled, taking a swig of her beer, “my girlfriend thinks I’m sexy, but says she married me for my brains.”

  “Damn. Just my luck.” Josh scribbled a few more symbols, then stopped cold, blinked, and turned his head slowly to look over at her.

  “Did you just say what I think you just said?”

  Kerry nodded and smiled, curious to see what his reaction would be. She wasn’t generally so out there about her relationship, but since they were 35,000 feet up, and he was proposing...

  “Ever consider a threesome?”

  Ooh. It was Kerry’s turn to be surprised. Imagine that. I thought he was a pinhead. “No,” she laughed, “but that’s a great answer.” They grinned at each other, and Josh sat back, putting his pad away and starting in on his food. After the stewardess removed their trays, they talked about programming, comparing techniques until Kerry was suddenly distracted by a flash just outside.

  “Whoa.” She had turned to peer out the window when the plane dropped out from under her and rocked to one side, sending people and crockery flying. Kerry felt her stomach flip as the craft leveled, then a scary vibration started, and the plane rocked from side to side as lightning flashed past the window.

  Oh boy.

  “Hang on, everyone!” the lead stewardess yelled. “Hang on!”

  “SO,” BOB STROLLED along next to Dar, having coaxed her out for a short walk near the hotel, “you don’t like cities, huh?”

  Dar dodged a stumbling man who was singing to himself and moved smoothly up onto the sidewalk. “Not particularly. We don’t have a city in Miami, just a banking and government center surrounded by suburbs.”

  “Ah.” Bob spread his arms out. “C’mon, you can’t beat this atmosphere. This is the most exciting, most vibrant city on earth.” He pointed. “Look at that building. Isn’t it incredible?”

  Dar obediently tilted her head and reviewed the building in question. It was large, yes, and the twenties architecture was eye-catching, but... “You know what I hate about cities, Bob?”

  Red Sky At Morning 23

  “What?”

  “They smell.” Dar rubbed her nose. “And as big as these damn buildings are, all the rooms in them are smaller than my bathroom at home.”

  Bob put his hands on his hips and regarded her. “Boy, you really know how to take the wind out of a guy’s sails, you know that, Dar Roberts?” His face curled into a rueful smile. “Here I am, trying to paint a lovely, romantic vision of my favorite place, and all you can think of is a few measly scents and floor space?”

  Dar shrugged one leather-covered shoulder. “I’m not really the romantic type,” she drawled. “Will you settle for dinner and a drink with a nice view?” She pointed to a second-floor dining room that overlooked the busy street.

  “Oh, that place?” Bob waved her off. “C’mon, you’re more adventurous than that, I bet. Here’s where I was going to take you. It’s a great little place. Fantastic food.” He pointed her toward a tiny stairwell in a dark corner that led below street level. Dar stopped cold and felt him run into her back. “Hey!” Bob bounced off, surprised. “What’s wrong?”

  “That goes underground,” Dar stated flatly.

  Bob glanced at it, nonplussed. “Well, sure. It’s in the basement.”

  “I don’t do basements.” Cool blue eyes flicked to his face.

  “What do you mean, you don’t do basements? What the heck do you do at home when you have to go below the bottom floor, Dar?” Bob seemed thunderstruck.

  “I swim. We have no basements in Miami,” Dar told him crisply. “If you think you’re gonna get me to go down those stairs, think again.”

  There was a pause. “And before you think again, I bet Alastair never mentioned my interest in martial arts.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy, lady.” Bob held up both hands and laughed. “Okay, I got the message. C’mon...I know a good hot dog stand out on Fifth Avenue that’s got a great view and no enclosed walls.” He put a careful hand on Dar’s back and guided her back toward the street. “And no, he never did mention that, as a matter of fact.”

  Dar relaxed a little and spared him a half grin.

  “He never says much about you at all, you know...just that you have more brains than is really safe for one person, and you take the word ‘attitude’ to a new level of meaning.” Bob chuckled. “You willing to be more forthcoming than that?”

  “No,” Dar replied coolly. “When I talk about my personal life, I usually get the specifics thrown back in my face at a staff meeting sometime. No, thanks.”

  Bob sighed. “All business. Your reputation’s completely intact on that front.” He gave her a resigned grin. “How about a burger and fries?”

  “Lead on.” Satisfied with the acceptance of her ground rules, Dar 24 Melissa Good put her hands behind her back and strolled after the sales executive, watching the stream of people crowding the street.

  They walked down a set of shallow stairs and ended up in an outdoor café, small tables on a patio that faced Rockefeller Center.

  Dar eyed the handwritten menu and chose a sandwich and French fries, giving Bob an agreeable nod when he suggested a bottle of wine to go with it. She let her eyes drift across the scene, taking in the noise and the lights and the people going by. Now they, she acknowledged frankly, were interesting, and very different from what she was used to in Miami. The voices around her were different as well, sharper and more staccato.

  “Dar?”

  Dar turned and graciously bestowed her attention on her host.

  “Sorry, did you ask me
something?”

  They talked about business for a while as they munched their way through the very good sandwiches and half of the wine. Dar managed to relax a little, aware that the almost overwhelming intensity she’d felt from her co-worker the previous night was muted, and he was, to her surprise, on his very best behavior.

  She remembered Alastair’s warning and wondered. Her hand shifted, swirling the sweet, heavy white wine in its glass, and she took a sip, enjoying the taste she seldom indulged in. “Did you see the presentation today?”

  Bob laughed, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee.

  “Definitely unconventional, I’ll give you that, Dar. Most of the time, I sleep through three-quarters of Al’s speeches. I know them by heart. We did this for the quarter, we were supposed to do that, we took this charge, made that bonus...” Bob swallowed a mouthful of wine. “Not like he comes in and says, well folks, this quarter we lost the farm, don’cha know.”

  “Not if I can help it, no.” Dar smiled. “It’s my job to make sure he doesn’t ever have to.”

  The sales exec nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true, and boy, does he rely on that,” he said. “You’re one key player.”

  Dar shrugged. “I do what I have to do.”

  He chuckled. “And God help any of us that get in your way. You’ve pinned my ears back a time or two.”

  “Nothing personal.” Dar’s eyes twinkled slightly.

  “Hmm.” Bob cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You definitely perked up the stockers, that’s for sure.” Her dinner companion let his eyes, finally, wander over her. “You’re much nicer to look at than Al is, and you know your stuff. Nice work with those offshore investors. They were trying to nail you.”

  “I’ve faced a lot worse.” Dar paused as she felt a chill run down her back. It was the oddest feeling, and she just barely resisted the urge to look behind her. Abruptly, her stomach tightened, and she felt a knot Red Sky At Morning 25

  form in her guts. What in the hell?

  “Dar?” Bob caught the change and sat up. “You okay?”

  No. Dar felt the blood drain from her face, and her heart started pounding. Was it the wine? She set the glass down. “Yeah, I’m all right...” Her throat went dry, and she felt a surge of anxiety almost make her start shivering. “I think.”

  Bob put his glass down and reached over, touching her shoulder carefully. “You’re pretty pale. Maybe you should put your head down.”

  “No.” Dar suddenly had the urge to be up and moving, an animal reflex fed by nervous energy that made her thighs twitch and tighten.

  The fear now gripped her guts, and she was afraid she was going to throw up. “Listen, maybe I had something that didn’t agree with me...”

  “I’ll get a cab.” Bob stood decisively and walked to the curb, snapping his fingers expertly. He motioned the waiter over with his other hand and handed him a bill, then walked back over to where Dar was just standing up. “Let’s go. I’ll get you back to the hotel.”

  “It’s all right—” Dar started to protest.

  “Lady, your well-being is important enough to make Alastair P.

  McLean say the word ‘fuck’ to me,” the sales exec told her firmly. “You are going to let me get you back to your room, and I’ll call in a doctor if I have to.”

  It would have almost been funny if Dar hadn’t felt like her insides were clawing their way up, eager to erupt from every body orifice she had. “Okay.” She let herself be bundled into the cab and concentrated on taking deep breaths, trying not to throw up.

  KERRY HUNG ON to the seat arms, one hand jerking free to tighten the seatbelt she’d prudently left fastened across her lap. Josh sat beside her, gasping as the plane bucked in the air, his fingers white with the strain of clutching the leather cushions.

  “Folks,” the captain’s voice sounded strained, but calm, “I know it’s pretty scary back there right now, but you all just hang on, and we’ll be through this in a bit. Storm front caught us by surprise tonight, so just hold on tight and keep calm.”

  Okay. Kerry’s heart was hammering so hard, she could barely hear the man’s voice. Her entire body was tense with fear, and she closed her eyes as the plane dropped unexpectedly, making her weightless for long, long seconds. Then the sensation stopped abruptly, and the plane lurched, tipping on its side and shuddering.

  She had to focus on something, so she chose the most vivid thing in her life, clamping her jaw down tight as she pictured her lover’s face, trying to let the image fill her mind’s eye and push out the horror all around her.

  The shaking went on for a lifetime. She heard things fall in the galley and the flight attendants cursing, then soft, faint echoes of some 26 Melissa Good kind of alarm behind the closed door of the cockpit.

  The fear was almost choking her.

  And then it stopped.

  The violent shaking settled to the odd bump, and the labored sound of the engines evened out, still sounding rough but no longer giving the plane-sickening surges of speed and slacking.

  Slowly, Kerry opened one eye, then the other. Her dinner was chatting with her tonsils, and she hoped like crazy that no one was going to ask her to either think or speak until it decided if it was going to go any higher or not.

  She looked out the window, and her heart almost stopped again.

  They were between two layers of roiling gray clouds, ducking between shooting streaks of lightning, a moment’s peace between two slices of hell.

  DAR THANKED BOB, reassured him for the tenth time that she’d be all right, then closed the hotel room door and escaped into the peaceful silence within.

  It was dark in the room, and she only turned on one small light before she trudged across the carpet and collapsed on the bed, her body curling instinctively into a ball as she lay there trying to figure out what the hell had happened to her. For the moment, she was merely sick to her stomach and had a pounding tension headache. The frantic anxiety had faded, leaving only a knot in her gut that simply refused to loosen.

  “What in the hell was that?” Dar spoke aloud, her voice slightly hoarse. “What’s wrong with me?” She was scared, she admitted to herself, vague snippets from popular magazine articles about anxiety attacks flashing into her memory. Stories about people who couldn’t even leave their houses. “No.” Dar let her eyes close and she rested, forcing herself to breathe slowly and calmly. “That is not what’s wrong with me. I won’t put up with that.”

  After a few moments of simply lying there, she pushed herself upright and got to her feet, glancing at the clock as she did so.

  Instinctively, her hand went for her cell phone, and she opened it, dialing a number by heart and listening to the ring.

  Voice mail. Dar’s brow creased, then she shrugged. “Guess you forgot to turn this back on, huh?” she spoke into the phone. “Listen, something weird just happened to me. I...” Dar hesitated. “I’d like to talk to you about it. Give me a call as soon as you get this, okay?” A pause. “Okay. Talk to you later.” She closed the phone, then went over to the desk and sat down, activating her laptop and telling it to make a network connection.

  A few clicks later, the light from the laptop’s active matrix screen lit her features with a ghostly glow, her face still as her eyes flicked back and forth, reading data. Another click, then she entered Kerry’s Red Sky At Morning 27

  flight number and hit enter.

  En route—delayed.

  “Delayed.” A thousand thoughts sped through Dar’s mind. “Why?”

  Suddenly, her guts clenched again and she doubled over, grabbing the edge of the table as a wave of fear almost swamped her. It forced a tiny cry from her throat, and she took a deep breath and held it, forcing the emotions down as she struggled to regain control.

  It was tough, but she managed to do it. After wiping the sweat off her fingers, she refreshed the screen, watching the words refuse to change. She looked at the clock and calculated times. Then she picked up
her cell phone and dialed a number.

  It rang. A voice picked up, relatively cheerful given the time of night. “I need status on one of your flights. It’s listed as delayed.” Dar spoke slowly and clearly. “I need to know why it’s delayed, and you’re going to tell me specifically, or I’ll go up your chain of command until I wake up someone high enough to come down to that center you’re sitting in and use a fire hose to make you give me the information.”

  Pause. “Is that clear?”

  Dead silence. “Yes, ma’am,” the voice finally spluttered. “Can I have the flight number?”

  Dar gave it, aware of a shiver working its way through her.

  There was quiet, save for the distinctive clicking of a keyboard.

  “Okay...um...Ms...”

  “Roberts,” Dar provided softly.

  “Right...Okay, well, from what I can see here, that flight hit some bad weather over Virginia...um...”

  “Specifically,” Dar reminded her.

  The clerk sighed. “Ma’am—”

  “I am the chief information officer of ILS. I can, if I have to, break into your reservations system and get the information myself, but it’s going to take longer, and I’m not in the mood. So just tell me,” Dar bit the words out, “what...is...the...problem?”

  “It’s not—well, they’ve got some damage to the aircraft, but the captain thinks he can land it okay. The problem is they’ve got to go through another storm first. They’re trying to land in DC.”

  Dar clamped an arm across her stomach and bit the inside of her lip. She had to take several breaths before she could speak. “Okay.

  Thanks.”

  “Ma’am?”

  Dar just closed the phone, and let her head drop forward to rest against the laptop’s cool edge.

  KERRY WRAPPED HER arms around the pillow she had in her lap and just kept her eyes closed as the plane rocked and yawed its way through the clouds. She could feel little shudders running through the 28 Melissa Good frame of the aircraft, and she managed to compose a tiny prayer, which she sent outward, asking for nothing more than to hear Dar’s voice again.