For You
"Flight seven sixty-one with service from Inverness to Boston is now boarding rows one through fifteen, passenger class A."
Gail glanced at her ticket. She was in row thirty-four, class C. Why did they always have to board the front of the plane first? Or better yet, why did she always get stuck with a seat in the back? Once they landed, it took forever for everyone to collect their bags and exit the plane, driving Gail nuts.
Because I got this last minute, remember?
Gail folded and unfolded Flynn's brochure again. His picture was on the inside, along with a full biography detailing his experience with Nessie and his boatmanship skills. He was smiling in the picture, his hair windblown and the sun shining behind him like a fond memory. She ran her fingers over the freckle on his cheek, the one she'd kissed as they'd lain together in his bed.
She still had no idea what to do with the brochure. She wanted to take it with her as a remembrance of her time with him, but the logical part of her brain told her to leave it where she'd found it.
"Now boarding rows thirty to forty-five, passenger class C."
What had happened to the B people? Gail glanced around, but no one seemed angry. Everyone either stayed in their seats or shuffled into line.
I'm not ready yet.
The airline attendant shot a glance at Gail from her podium where she collected and scanned the passenger's tickets. Her hair was woven into a bun so tightly it amazed Gail that her eyes hadn't popped out. The attendant raised an eyebrow at Gail.
Gail stared back, shocked. How did the attendant know which seat she had?
A passenger waiting to board asked a question, and the attendant turned back to her work, smiling a big, red-lipsticked grin.
Get up and get on the plane.
Gail stood and her knees buckled underneath her. She straightened her legs and forced herself toward the podium. I'm making the right decision. If I stay here, I go against everything I've ever been.
"Good afternoon, madame. Can I see your ticket?" The attendant's bun bobbed with her words. Her nametag read Anne Whipper.
Gail had a feeling if she didn't produce her ticket, Anne would be whipping her. She fumbled with a piece of paper, but it wasn't her ticket, it was the brochure. Hadn't she left it on the seat?
The attendant tightened the sides of her lustrous lips as if to say you should have your ticket ready, dummy.
"Just one second." Gail stuffed the brochure into her pocket. Her ticket had been in her other hand all along.
The attendant wiggled her fingers. She'd lost her smile. "Ticket please."
"Oh, yes. My ticket."
Gail handed the woman her ticket just as someone called out from behind her, "Gail Phillips, don't get on that plane!"
Gail's chest swelled. She recognized that voice.
The attendant took the ticket, but Gail refused to let go as she scanned the crowd.
Ms. Whipper tugged harder. "Miss, if you'll please let go."
Flynn pushed through the line of passengers waiting to get on the plane. He huffed, totally out of breath as though he'd run all the way to the gates just for her.
Gail yanked the ticket from the attendant's hand and whirled toward Flynn. "What are you doing here?"
He took a deep breath, balancing his hands on his upper legs. "I've come to ask you not to go."
Gail's heart stammered. Did she not want to go? She couldn't deal with that decision just yet. "How did you get past security?"
"I bought a ticket."
"A ticket to Boston?"
"No. Those were sold out." He glanced at the paper in his hand. "I think it's to somewhere in Mexico, but that doesn't matter. There's something I need to show you, something that will make you think twice about getting on that plane."
Just seeing him stand there made her think twice, but Gail wasn't going to admit that. She stepped out of line and the next passenger took her place.
"What is it?"
Flynn took out his phone. "You're going to need to sit down to see it. Or at least, I'm going to need to sit down."
"Oh my, right." Gail helped him to area seat. "Did you run all the way here?"
"I sped down the highway, then ran." Flynn plopped down in a chair and flipped through the pictures until he found one that looked suspiciously like the imprint he'd found on the beach.
Not again. Gail wasn't about to get her hopes up just to have them crushed. "So? It's the impression from the beach, right?"
"No." Flynn urged the phone into her hands. "Look closer. This is the impression I did at L-PIB's office of the fake fin."
"You went to L-PIB?"
The speakers buzzed on. "Now boarding rows fifteen to thirty, passenger class B."
Now she asks for the B people. Gail didn't have time for this. If Flynn kept her much longer, she'd miss her flight. Yet there she was firmly planted beside him and much happier than she'd have been on that plane.
Flynn ran his hand through his hair. "I don't have time to explain. Just look. Trust me."
Gail brought the screen closer but didn't notice anything different. All it did was prove her point. "I don't see anything."
"Look at the pattern in the webbing." Flynn leaned over her and pressed the next picture on the camera. The image of his cast popped up. "Now look at this."
The image on the cast had slight variations, whereas the image produced by the plastic fin was exact and unchanging.
Gail stuffed down a current of hope. "Are you sure you used the right fin?"
Flynn held her gaze with a steady, intense stare. "It said plesiosaur."
"What about the identical recordings on their sonar equipment?"
"The hoaxers could have recorded Nessie that night, just like we did. They could be using a real call to draw people in."
Gail sat back, digesting the information. This new observation tilted the evidence back to Flynn's side. Guilt tightened her chest. She'd been so quick to judge, so quick to disbelieve. "Flynn, I'm sorry."
He put a hand on her arm, his touch radiating warmth through her sweater. "It's not your fault."
"I ruined everything for you." Her breathing grew shallow as tears welled in her eyes.
"You were just doing your job."
"Can you ever forgive me?"
Flynn smiled and pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear. "If you give me one more night, I will."
"Now boarding all passengers for flight seven sixty-one, service from Inverness to Boston." The attendant's voice was curt with anger.
Gail whipped her head up and almost melted under the flight attendant's gaze. This was it. She had to either get on that plane or give up her seat.
She turned back to Flynn. "Why did you come back to get me and waste money on a ticket you'll never use? Blarney has the next set of coordinates. You don't need me to find her anymore."
Flynn leaned in close so only she could hear. Somehow Anne Whipper's laser stare had no effect on him. The intensity in his gaze made Gail feel she was the only woman in the room. "I didn't come for your help. I came for you."
He leaned in farther and pressed his lips against hers in a desperate kiss that ripped through her with its passion. He placed both hands on her shoulders and his fingers traveled up her neck to cup her cheeks gently, pulling her closer still. She yielded to his embrace, melting into his arms.
Gail didn't hear the last calls for the flight, the door closing, or the plane taking off without her.