11-25x, 11-56, 11-6
Griff slept for five hours. When he woke, Helena was asleep with a half-dozen or so of her father’s journals scattered about her on the king-size bed. He rolled out of bed and went to the window. He squinted when he pulled back the curtain. A shaft of hard light cut into the room.
“What are you looking at?” Helena asked in a voice dry and gravelly from sleep.
“They don’t call it the Sunshine State for nothing.”
“Florida is the Sunshine State,” Helena said. “Kansas is the Sunflower State.”
Griff looked over his shoulder. “Why are you always correcting me?”
“Because you obviously need adult supervision.”
Griff looked back out the window. “You sleep at all?”
“Not much.”
“Get some. Then we’ll make this pop stand a memory.”
Helena rolled over and buried her head beneath the covers.
Griff got his cell phone and sat down at the table by the window. He thought for a long while, then texted Lance a series of California Highway Patrol radio codes: “11-25x, 11-56, 11-6.”
Female motorist needs assistance.
Officer being followed by auto with dangerous persons.
Illegal discharge of firearms.
Lance answered, “Hot dog.”
Griff went over to carefully gather the notebooks from around Helena without waking her. He put them all in the box, except for the last two going back two years before the helicopter accident. He scanned through them again, making a written list in a small spiral notepad of the dates and places of Cliff Nickolson’s travels. He starred those meetings with the initials “HF” beside the destination.
When he finished, Griff planned a flight from Colonel James Jabara airport in Wichita to Chesapeake Regional in Norfolk, Virginia. After, he watched Helena sleep until sunset, then went down to the front desk and settled up their bill. He paid the hotel clerk a hundred dollars to order a pepperoni pizza, a six pack of Budweiser, a bottle of Cabernet and a two-liter Pepsi.
When the desk clerk delivered dinner, Griff took the six pack and wine into the bathroom and began pouring the beer down the bathtub drain.
“And what, pray tell, are you doing?” Helena asked appearing at the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Eight hours from bottle to throttle.”
“What?” Her question morphed into a yawn.
“If we're being watched—or the desk clerk gets loose lips, they’ll have to figure we won't be flying outta here til morning. Give us a head start.”
“The wine, too?”
“Be my guest.”
Helena picked up the bottle of Cab and read the label. After a heavy sigh, she handed it to Griff. “I'll drink the Pepsi. It’s a better vintage.”
They ate, showered, dressed, and packed. Leaving the key cards by the TV, they walked back to the plane.
Helena watched Griff refuel the Cirrus. “You know, if the government is really after us, they can no doubt track us by following our credit card purchases.”
“Not this card,” Griff said, waving the card for Helena to see before putting it back in his wallet. “You’ll get one from Lance. Maybe two.”
“Lance?”
“They’re Stein, Baylor corporate cards. They’ve got hundreds.” Griff pulled the receipt from the pump. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where? Chicago?”
“Wichita. Oh, and make sure your phone is powered off.”
She did.
Helena let Griff go through the ritual of his checklists and depart to the southeast, rising into the night. Civilization seemed to disappear, as the stars and the few farm lights in western Kansas melted together at the horizon. It was an hour-long flight from Oakley to Wichita.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Griff began, once he leveled off at the Minimum Safe Altitude of four thousand four hundred feet and set power for best economy. “When we get to Wichita, call your fly boys from the airport landline and have them send a courtesy car to get you. Tell them to file for Chicago Exec. When you get there, ask Tiffani at the desk to drive you to the Dog Walk.”
“Tiffani?”
“Have her or one of the line boys do it. Don’t use a cab. Tip them good, of course.”
“Of course.”
“You still have the apartment in Tribeca, right?”
“How do you know about…Edward. Stupid Edward. You talked to him, didn’t you.”
“Just due diligence.”
“And how is my ex-husband?”
“Prepping to be his father’s political puppet on a string.”
“I never could stand his parents. Nor they, me. A real mutual disadmiration society we had going there.”
“Anyway, Lance will have their Citation take you to New York—probably Republic out on Long Island. Maybe MacArthur. He might even fly you there himself in the King Air to get out of the office and get some stick time.”
“He’s a pilot, too?”
“You'll be safe. He flew generals around in the Army. No medals in it for him, though.”
“What about my plane?”
“He’ll send the Lear west—probably to San Francisco. He’ll hire some local McCormick booth babe he’s got on speed dial to be your double and send her off for a weekend at your apartment there, then bring her back commercial.”
Helena sighed loud enough to be heard over the headsets. She looked out into the night. Wichita glowed on the horizon.
“He’ll set you up with burner phones and credit cards. Cash, too. That’d be best to use.”
“All this cloak and dagger stuff…” Helena shook her head. “And where are you going?”
“I’m gonna look up an old Navy buddy.”
“Great. So, what do I do in New York while you’re swapping war stories?”
“I believe you’ve got some reading materials.”
“Oh, yeah…but I don’t know if I’m ready to know everything—you know, Mom and the Wicked Witch of the East and all.”
“Take the last five or so. Maybe ten. We need to figure out what got him killed. You can leave the rest with Lance for safe keeping. Or park them in a vault or safety deposit box.”
Helena nodded.
“I have to ask…” Griff looked at Helena.
“What?”
“Do you think Junior could be involved in something deeper than probate games?”
Helena thought for a long full minute. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll find out.”
Griff began his descent. He skirted the Class Charlie airspace to the north, avoiding the need to contact Wichita Approach Control. He landed at Colonel James Jabara Airport where there was no control tower to log his N-number.
After her Learjet co-pilot picked Helena up, Griff departed to the east towards Norfolk.
***~~~***