Chương 3
Olivia looked through the glass at the aircraft waiting beyond the hangar doors.
“Tell me whether you can fly me to Seattle safely.”
Daniel followed her gaze.
“And if I can’t?”
“Then tell me no.”
He nodded once.
“That I can do.”
Daniel spent the drive back to Indianapolis listening to Emma complain from the rear seat about the injustice of being forbidden french fries after vomiting.
“You threw up on Mrs. Pell’s shoes.”
“I missed most of her shoes.”
“That is not the defense you think it is.”
“She said I could have crackers.”
“You can have crackers.”
“She has saltines.”
“We own saltines.”
“Ours taste sad.”
Daniel glanced at her in the mirror.
Emma had gone pale around the mouth again, but she was sitting upright under the pink blanket his neighbor had brought to the school and still possessed enough energy to criticize household crackers.
He took that as good news.
The interstate unrolled beneath a low gray sky, and his phone sat facedown in the cup holder because he had already checked it six times for the email from Margaret.
By the seventh check, Emma caught him.
“You said phones are bad when you drive.”
“I’m stopped.”
“You’re stopped at a red light.”
“That still counts as stopped.”
“It counts less.”
The light changed.
Daniel put the phone down.
“Your mother would have loved this stage.”
“What stage?”
“The one where you become a lawyer.”
Emma considered that.
“Did Mom like lawyers?”
“Not especially.”
“Then why would she love it?”
“Never mind.”
At home, Daniel set up a nest of blankets on the couch, found the thermometer, poured ginger ale into a plastic cup, and argued with Emma for three full minutes about whether one sip counted as drinking.
It did not.
By noon she was asleep with a nature documentary playing softly on the television.
Daniel stood in the kitchen eating peanut butter from a spoon when his phone finally buzzed.
Margaret’s message contained a secure link to aircraft maintenance records, operating schedules, insurance requirements, destination plans, passenger assistance protocols, and a proposed employment agreement.
Daniel stopped eating.
The folder was more comprehensive than he had expected and less reassuring.
He carried the laptop to the dining table and began reading.
Two hours later, the peanut butter spoon still sat beside him.
The aircraft was maintained well.
Exceptionally well, in fact.
The crew records were clean, the inspection schedule current, and the operating company reputable.
The problem was not the airplane.
The problem was everything around it.
Olivia’s travel schedule had been built by people who treated time as something that could be negotiated with.
Seattle Monday morning.
San Francisco Tuesday afternoon.
Chicago Wednesday night.
Potential departure for Singapore Thursday evening, depending on contract developments.
The schedule contained little margin for weather, crew rest, maintenance complications, or ordinary human failure.
Daniel found three trips in the previous six months where departure times had changed by more than four hours with less than ninety minutes’ notice.
He found another where a repositioning flight had occurred after midnight following a fourteen-hour duty day.
That one made him sit back.
Emma stirred on the couch.
He waited until she settled before opening the attached internal note.
The former chief pilot had resigned four months earlier.
No explanation was included.
The replacement had lasted nine weeks.
That resignation was marked personal reasons.
Daniel read both lines twice.
Then he called Margaret.
She answered on the second ring.
“Daniel Carter.”
“You have caller identification.”
“I do.”
“Then why did you say my name?”
“Because I wanted you to know I knew who was calling.”
“That feels unnecessary.”
“That’s Margaret.”
Daniel smiled despite himself.
“I have questions.”
“I assumed you would.”
“Who built the travel schedule?”
“Olivia’s executive office.”
“Meaning Olivia.”
“Frequently.”
“The duty margins are too tight.”
“I’m not a pilot.”
“You don’t have to be a pilot to notice someone scheduled Chicago to Singapore after three cities in four days.”
“I have noticed many things about Olivia’s calendar.”
“You don’t stop her?”
Margaret was quiet long enough to answer without answering.
Daniel looked toward Emma.
Her blanket had slid onto the floor.
He got up, carried it back, and tucked it over her legs.
“Why did the previous chief pilot leave?”
Margaret’s voice changed.
“That isn’t in the file?”
“It says personal reasons.”
“Then that is the official answer.”
“I’m not asking for the official answer.”
“You’ve known Olivia twenty minutes.”
“Forty-five.”
“That changes everything.”
Daniel leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Was there a safety dispute?”
Another pause.
“You would have to ask Olivia.”
“That means yes.”
“It means I am not discussing a former employee’s private circumstances with an applicant.”
“Fair.”
Margaret exhaled.
“You’re annoying.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Anything else?”
“Does Olivia travel with medical staff?”
“No.”
“Personal assistant?”
“Sometimes.”
“Who assists during transfers at destinations?”
“Depends on the destination.”
“That’s not a plan.”
“No.”
The single word surprised him.
Margaret lowered her voice.
“She hates plans built around what people assume she cannot do.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“I know.”
Daniel stared at the proposed Saturday departure.
“What happens when she refuses something that is actually necessary?”
“You tell her.”
“And then?”
Margaret gave a small, humorless laugh.
“That is where the job becomes interesting.”
Olivia received Daniel’s first message at 3:18 that afternoon while sitting in a board subcommittee meeting she had already decided should have been an email.
The message contained no greeting.
Saturday departure at 7:30 p.m. is operationally possible, but I would not approve the current schedule beyond Seattle without revisions.
She read it once.
Then again.
Across the table, Richard Vale was explaining why the company should delay the acquisition of a warehouse network in Nevada.
Richard had served on Whitmore Medical Logistics’ board since the company’s second funding round and had mastered the art of disagreeing in a tone that sounded like concern.
Olivia disliked that more than open hostility.
May you like
“We are expanding too aggressively,” Richard said.
“We are fulfilling contracts we already signed.”
