KEEGAN
This plane isn’t fit to be flown. It’s burning fuel twice as fast as my plane, which cuts my range in half.
Flying from Mississippi, I couldn’t be sure that I’d make it south across the Gulf to the Yucatan peninsula for fuel. Even in my plane, that would have been iffy. So I’ve had to navigate west, hoping to stop to fuel up just inside of Mexico. Now I’m thinking my best bet is to land somewhere around Corpus Christi.
But I wasn’t prepared for this. I balance the chart on my knee and try to find a small private airport where I can self-announce. Since I’m not contacting Houston Center and I’ve turned off my transponder, I’m trying hard to stay under the radar. I have to find a small airport that doesn’t have a tower, one that’s self-fueling, so I won’t have to come in contact with anyone who will recognize me, like I did this morning.
That Jake Gibbons guy, he had it coming. I was waiting for him in the parking lot of his airport, fully willing to pay cash for his plane. But when I walked toward him in the parking lot, I could see on his face that he had already seen me on the news. His expression changed, and he muttered some excuse to get back in his car. As he reached for his phone, I opened the car door and took it out of his hand, and before he could react, I had my hands around his throat. When he stopped fighting back and I let him go, I checked for a pulse. He was dead. I reclined his seat so it looked like he was taking a nap and wasn’t immediately visible to others who might come and go. Bought me a few hours.
And saved me a wad of cash, which is good since this plane isn’t worth the price he was asking.
On the map, I find a small airport just west of Corpus Christi, and I follow the coast of Louisiana on my way to Texas. Once I stop to fuel up, I won’t have to stop again until I’m well into Mexico.
As I fly, I scan the sky for other planes and listen to the radio for other flights in my area. I don’t like flying without guidance from a tower, but it is what it is.
I set my GPS with the coordinates that will take me to that little airport, then I unzip my duffel bag on the seat next to me, and I dig through for a baseball cap. I pull it on and look in the mirror. With the sunglasses, maybe people won’t immediately think I’m the guy whose face is on the news.
This never should have happened. I never should have been exposed. I was careful, covering my tracks, staging evidence, and paying people for their help . . . That slippery girl and that mental case never should have been able to find me out.
I blame Rollins and Phillips and the others who weren’t as careful as I was. Or maybe it was Candy. Maybe she was loose-lipped in Dallas, bragging about our relationship, and somehow word got back to Dylan Roberts.
As I fly, I go back over the evidence they have on me now. Besides what they’re already reporting on TV, they’ll eventually find Jake Gibbons in his car. Will they realize I’m the one who took the plane? Will they arrest DA Phillips? Does he have the backbone to not expose everything else we’ve done? Will they find Jim Pace’s body in my trunk at the Raymond airport?
There’s no way I can allow myself to be seen before I’m out of the country, and even then, I’ll have to keep my head down as I make my way down Central America and into Ecuador.
Now that I see how much fuel I’m burning, I’m wondering if I should have planned things differently. Maybe it would have been wiser to go to Cuba instead.
No time for second-guessing now. It’ll be okay. Everything usually works out for me.
I find the box of cigars I shoved into my bag and pull one out and put it in my teeth. I grab the matches and light it.
It calms me and reminds me that I need to celebrate. I got all that cash from Rollins, every penny he made under the table, and I can live well somewhere else. I’m almost home free. Dylan Roberts and Casey Cox haven’t won. I have. I’m always the one who comes out on top.
I take the cigar out of my mouth and laugh out loud. What am I worried about? I’ll be in Corpus Christi in another hour. I’ll fuel up on my own, and nobody will pay me the slightest attention. I’ll hop into Mexico, refuel at Mexican airports during the night, and be in Ecuador by morning.
Even with the shorter range in this plane, my plan will work.
I’m almost home free.