Their flight to Newark, New Jersey, went without a hitch. Po took the journey in his stride, not so uptight this time, but silently relieved that the airplane hadn’t plummeted to earth when they finally touched down. There was an hour or more to kill before their connecting flight, but they had to change terminals so it wasn’t all time they could spend lounging around. Once they’d caught the sky train to their connecting terminal, Po made his excuses and went outside to top up his nicotine levels.
‘You’ll have to pass back through security again,’ Tess warned him. ‘Try not to miss the flight.’
‘If I miss it, I won’t be crying, Tess. I can drive from here in a few hours. I’m seriously tempted to do just that, I’m just put off by the fact the rental companies will only have goddamn granny cars available again. If I had to choose between a short hop on a plane or drive all that way in another minivan, the plane wins out.’ He winked at her. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be late.’
Tess headed off to find food, got coffee and donuts, but took them with her to the boarding gate. According to the flight information, their plane was on time. She sat on a seat against the wall, surrounded by weary travellers whose heads were buried in a variety of electronic gadgets, only periodically glancing up to check the boarding info. Tess had kept her nose equally buried in her iPad on the way over, checking over her typed notes, and wondering how much she should add to them concerning what had recently occurred. No mention would be made of what happened with the two guys last night, or their goodbyes and exchange of gifts with Pinky Leclerc. She had been tempted to leave out their breaking and entering of Rutterman Logistics, but if they were going to use the tracking device and the accompanying proof that it originated from a box on a shelf at Rutterman’s there was nothing for it. Of course, little would be alluded to concerning Po’s Jailhouse Rock moment with the guard: the assault had obviously gone unreported, because their identities hadn’t raised as much as an eyebrow while checking in for their flight out of New Orleans. That surprised her; she had expected to answer difficult questions from the local PD before they were allowed to leave Louisiana, but the crime going unreported made sense when she thought about it. Rutterman Logistics had much to hide, more than it was worth mentioning a breaking and entry to the local authorities for. She would bet that the box of trackers and the corresponding paperwork had been spirited away from the premises by now, and was glad she’d taken photographs for her records. She didn’t doubt that word of their escape had reached the ears of Sower’s group by now, and they could expect some sort of retaliation from that, but that was OK, because Sower’s killer must have known all along that they’d ignore the warning he’d made of Crawford Wynne. Hell, Tess was beginning to suspect that it wasn’t so much a warning as a prompt that would lead to a full-blown confrontation. Wynne’s death had served more than initially believed: Sower’s killer wasn’t only hoping to strike fear into his opponents; he was stepping up the conflict between them and Sower’s gang, his way of declaring war. It was an insane agenda the killer had set, and she had to wonder at its end game.
The gate opened and arriving passengers trickled through. Their plane had landed. She began watching for Po, but he was a no show. ‘C’mon, Po. Don’t you dare make me miss this flight.’
She’d already resolved herself to the idea: it was imperative that she returned to Maine, but if Po was late to the gate, she wasn’t boarding the plane. They could wait for the next, or she’d join him in the long drive home, whatever, but she wasn’t completing the next leg alone. Although this had originated as her task, Po an employee drafted in to help, their dynamic was now definitely a partnership: she couldn’t imagine arriving home in Maine without Po alongside her. His presence at her side when finally she delivered her report to Emma Clancy would definitely help. Clancy would go ballistic on hearing of their decision to complete their own investigation, and to keep pertinent information back from the Louisiana law-enforcement agencies in order to do that. Perhaps the two of them could convince her it was the right thing to do. Clancy had engaged her services because she wasn’t confident that a private investigator local to Louisiana was giving value for money, well Tess could argue that Clancy was getting two for the price of one, and she couldn’t deny they had gone beyond what was expected of them.
She took out her cell, recalling she’d turned it off for the duration of the flight. Hopefully Clancy had made contact.
Nope. Her messages were nil. It wasn’t right.
She rang Clancy’s personal number, but it went directly to voicemail. ‘Hi, Emma, Tess Grey checking in. Just to let you know I’m at Newark, on the way back to Maine. Should be on the ground in a couple hours and I’ll try you again.’ She considered adding that Clancy’s silence was worrying, and please, if she could, at least let her know everything was OK, but was reluctant.
She ended the call, and rang the office number instead. When that call went to voicemail too she frowned at her phone. She rejected the instruction to leave a message, and redialled, waited, but got the same automated voice again. She checked the time. It was within office hours, so why wasn’t anybody answering the phone? She hit Alex’s number, but her brother’s phone rang out as well. What was going on up there? First Clancy and now Alex had gone silent on her, and considering they were her direct contacts in Maine, she didn’t like what that suggested.
Frustrated, and now worried, she hung up, deciding to Google an alternative number for Clancy’s office, but around her there was a stir of motion and she saw her fellow travellers readying for action. Boarding was about to begin. She put away her cell, staring intently towards the walkway down which she hoped Po would hurry, now more eager than anything to get home.
She was surprised when he stepped out of a nearby gents’ washroom, nodding at her. She’d missed his arrival at the gate while concentrating on her cell. He moved towards her, his bag slung from his shoulder, while he dry-washed his hands. Despite washing, she still caught a waft of smoke from him, though the sweeter aroma of soap leavened it. It didn’t bother her; in fact, his scent had grown familiar these past few days, and was welcome. ‘Thought I’d best freshen up after having a cigarette,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘This us; ready to go?’
She’d held on to their boarding passes. She handed over his, waved hers towards the doors by way of instruction. ‘We’ll be up and away in no time.’
‘I guess the sooner we’re up the sooner we touch down again. Let’s do this, then.’ He led the way, joining the queue filtering past the flight crew. Standing behind him, Tess spotted the cold sweat on the back of his neck. Flying wasn’t easy for Po, and the idea that he was doing this for her wasn’t lost on Tess. She wanted to hug him, but now wasn’t the time or place. They filed aboard, this time on to a twin-prop, and found their seats. They sat side by side, the smaller craft coming with fewer seats, rows of two on one side, a single corresponding seat across the gangway. Taxiing out to the runway, the plane joined the queue of aircraft wending their way up and down the tarmac, awaiting their take-off window, and in no time they sailed up into the blue. As Po gripped the arms of his chair, fingers digging into the plastic, Tess placed her hand on his, offering a gentle squeeze of support. Before they levelled out, her hand was in his and their fingers were entwined. Later when Tess became conscious of their intimacy, she stole a glance over at him, expecting the amused twinkling of his eyes. But Po was sitting with his head back, eyes closed, and this time he wasn’t enduring: a smile smoothed the lines in his face.