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"...the first place?"
The sharpness of Louisianna's tone cut through the background noise of the airport, and Geoff glanced in her direction without breaking stride. "Come again?" His tone was mild and conversational, as though he hadn't heard the first stirring of aggravation in the woman's voice.
"I said," Louisianna drew the word out, making her irritation more obvious, "why did we have to fly into Baltimore in the first place? It's an hour's drive, at least. We could have flown into Reagan or Dulles, and it would have been easier."
"Ah." That was all he said at first. Here he thought he'd missed something important. To this he had an easy response: "The tickets were cheaper." He returned his gaze forward, weaving through the throng of other travelers, who seemed more focused on their flights than on watching where the hell they were walking.
From beside him, Lou made a low grumble in the back of her throat. "You're kidding me, right? That was the reason? You were just being a cheapskate?"
"Just because we have the money doesn't mean we need to waste it. The difference was something like two hundred bucks a ticket, and with as many people as we have flying, it was an easy choice."
The comment caused him to pause briefly and check that the rest of the group was keeping up with them. Ignoring Lou's scoff, Geoff did a quick head count: seven, including himself and Lou. He nodded in silent confirmation and resumed walking. He moved with a limp in his right leg. It didn't cause him pain and barely impeded his range of motion, but it was just enough to be noticeable. If he were to lie flat on his back and put his legs straight out, his right leg was about a quarter-inch shorter than his left.
He checked the overhead signs for "Baggage Claim" and veered left. The airport was busy – or so he supposed. Geoff didn't have a lot of experience flying. It wasn't fear, per se, he just preferred to be in control of his destiny and trusting it to a couple of pilots did not sit well with him. If not for the logistical nightmare it would have become, Geoff would have insisted they drive from California.
"Oh!" a voice cried from behind him. "Can we stop for a pretzel?"
Geoff pursed his lips and stopped, turning to face the speaker. Of course, it would be Mystery succumbing to distraction. Then again, he wasn't sure she'd ever been to an airport before. She bounced in place with barely contained energy from being cooped up in a plane for several hours. Dark brown hair framed her face like a disheveled halo in stark contrast to her pale skin. Geoff narrowed his eyes. "A what now?" he asked.
"A pretzel," Mystery repeated, beaming at him like a child used to having her whims indulged. Then again, they usually were. She gestured to his right, and a few dozen feet down the concourse toward another terminal was a stand selling large pretzels. "I'm hungry," she added. "We're all probably hungry. Bet you are too."
The fact that she was correct didn't matter. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction they'd all been walking. "Baggage claim is that way."
"Geoff..." Lou began.
He cut her off. "Plus, I suspect it's not a pretzel you're hungry for." He eyed Mystery significantly.
The slightly mischievous grin faded from Mystery's face, replaced with a strange mixture of rebuke and solemnity. "I suppose not." She sounded glum but Geoff wasn't swayed.
"Come on," he addressed the group at large, turning as he did so. "We'll hit a steakhouse on the way into town, after we picked up our luggage. My treat. After all," he paused long enough to give Lou a sidelong glance, "I wouldn't want to be accused of being a cheapskate."
He started walking again, picking up his pace, but not quickly enough to avoid Lou's aggravated swipe at his shoulder. It stung a little, though he gave no outward sign that he felt anything. From behind him someone sniggered, but he didn't bother trying to figure out who it was.