Chapter 3
Dexter
Saturday 2.42 pm
I stand at the hanger, eyes on the horizon, and see no sign of Michael even though he insisted I be here by two.
I mutter to myself as I watch a couple planes take off and land before I check my watch.
Since Michael is either late, or he’s forgotten he told me to meet him here again, I decide to lock up and head back to the villa.
All things going well, I’ll meet them in Macetown where the reception is being held, have a bite to eat, make nice with the folks again, and finally get a chance to talk to the Wing Commander about the review hearing.
I’m locking the hanger door again when I hear a vehicle roll up. Since it was Michael I was expecting; I’m more than a little surprised to see Scarlett jump out of the vehicle.
She looks just as fine as she did at lunch. Knee-high boots over tight jeans, and her hair loose around her face.
I lean against the nose of the plane as she hurried towards me. It’s hard not to watch the way her tits bounce pleasantly with the motion.
I don’t even get to ask her what she’s doing here before she steps, breathless into the hanger. “Have you seen Michael?”
I step away from the plane and shake my head. “Not since before lunch.”
She runs a hand through her hair. “Shit.”
I frown at her and step a little closer. “No one knows where he is?”
She shakes her head. “Chelsea said he’s been spending a lot of time out here with you. I was hoping I’d find him here, planning a surprise or something.”
Since Michael has only been here with me twice, I choose my words carefully.” Maybe he got cold feet?”
She looks around the hanger. “He’s close to his family. Especially his dad. If he’d changed his mind, I’m pretty sure he’d have told him.”
It wouldn’t be the first time a groom changed his mind. And Michael hasn’t exactly been hanging on Chelsea’s every word.
“What about his friends? Have they seen him?”
She gives me a quick shake of her head. “They’re all at the hotel waiting for him to show up.”
Since I had the misfortune of taking a few of Michael’s pals up, I more than certain they’d be about as useless as Michael is.
Her eyes shift to the plane then back to me and I know what she’s thinking before she asks. “The police say it’s too early to launch an official search. But Michael’s father is organizing one amongst the guests. Dad reminded me you have experience searching from the air?”
It might serve my purpose if I locate him and save the day, so I gesture to the plane. “I can go see if he’s driven to Macetown. Pretty quiet this time of year, and his vehicle sticks out like a sore thumb.”
Her lip catches her teeth and she looks half relieved and half concerned. “Thanks. That would be helpful.”
I nod and gesture to the plane. “You can sit up front with me. You can be my spotter.”
At the look of horror on her face, I know she is definitely not a fan of flying. “Is that necessary?”
I shrug. “You don’t have to. But two sets of eyes are better than one. And we haven’t got that much daylight.”
Her entire body goes rigid and she looks a little pale as she nods. “Okay. I’ll call Chelsea and tell her we’ll go looking.”
With a look at the plane, and at me, she pulls out her cell and dials. “Hey. No, he’s not here. But Dexter is going to take me up so we can see if his car is in Macetown.”
I watch her, trying not to let my eyes slide to her ass, as she reassures her sister. “Stay with mom. He’ll be back before you know it.”
She ends the call and slides her phone into her pocket. “Everyone’s out looking and Michael’s dad has called all the hospitals. He’s about to call the police.”
I gesture to the plane. “Quicker we get up, the quicker we get down.”
She swallows, looking worse than green, as she looks at the plane. She pulls her shoulders back, and I notice the slight tremble to her chin as she tries for a smile.
“Don’t suppose you have any alcohol onboard?”
I chuckle. “Think there’s a picnic basket still in the cabin. But maybe save the wine until after we find him.”
She looks even less sure of herself as she approaches the Cessna 188. “And this thing is safe?”
I nod and open the door. “Relax. I’ve done this hundreds of times. Just give me a few minutes to do an external check and we’ll go save the day.”
She manages a weak smile but looks more than a little scared as she looks at the door.
I try for a reassuring smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I have over a thousand hours logged.”
It was meant to reassure her, but she looks anything but. “Is that a lot?”
I shrug, even though it is. Two years in the Civil Air Patrol, begging, borrowing and stealing to get up in the air as much as I could is pretty much the only leverage for the review board I have.
“Get in. We’ll be ready for departure in fifteen minutes.”
And with any luck, I’ll find Michael, and I’ll still be able to salvage this.
***
Scarlett
I climb inside the light aircraft and watch as Dexter checks over the tiny plane.
I glance at my phone, and to distract myself and hopefully get a little reassurance Dexter knows what he’s doing, I do a quick search for the enrollment requirements for the Academy.
I already know he learned to fly before being accepted to the Academy, but I don’t know exactly how much experience he has.
I glance at him as he taps away at something on the wing.
When he catches me looking at him, he nods and carries on with his precheck.
Rather than look at the instruments in the tiny cockpit, I scroll through the Air Force website and have to re-read a few times before it sinks in.
To qualify as an Air Force pilot, you need at least a bachelor’s degree from a civilian college or university or the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado.
The Air Force prefers a degree in the sciences, such as aerospace engineering, physics, computer science, or chemistry. To be competitive, you will need to have a high-grade point average, generally 3.4 or above.
Candidates with civilian flight training, such as a private pilot's license, tend to have an edge with the selection board…
Suitably impressed, I look for further information to set my mind at ease. I open the Academy website and wind up feeling incredibly reassured Dexter is just as skilled as my father seemed to think he is.
His checks seemingly complete, he opens the door and hops in beside me. He smiles and gestures to my phone. “Switch it off.”
I apologize, switch it off, and wince at the low battery level. I should have charged it before I left, but I was in too much of a hurry to even think of it.
I grip the seat, as Dexter slips on his headset and flips a bunch of switches and starts the engine.
While he’s calm and controlled, I’m a raging storm of dread. He might have done this hundreds of times, but I haven’t.
My stomach is tied in knots as he checks with the tower and we start to roll out of the hanger.
I try to swallow but my mouth is so dry, it’s near on painful. Wishing I’d sent my dad here instead of coming myself, I try to take deep breaths and to think about something else.
Unfortunately, all that comes to mind is Dexter, and that just starts me thinking about how my life is in the hands of a man only hours ago I was fantasizing about.
Dexter scrawls some notes while I listen to the indecipherable radio chatter that does little to settle my nerves.
I take a deep breath as we start to taxi down the runway. The plane is so small I feel every bump as we roll over the tarmac.
Sweat starts to trickle down my back as Dexter chats to the tower.
“Cessna two-zero, cleared for take-off runway zero-one.”
“Cleared for take-off runway zero-one, Cessna two-zero.”
While he’s immersed in what he’s doing, I can’t help but notice the focus he has.
He’s simultaneously setting me at ease while looking incredibly sexy doing it.
I keep my eyes on him, noting the set to his jaw, the way his voice comes out smooth as silk, like he’s completely in control and in his element.
It makes me think about what other areas he excels at. Since those kinds of thoughts are entirely inappropriate while my sister is relying on me, I look out the window and watch the ground disappear beneath us.
I clutch the seat, fingers aching as we ascend further into the sky. When I notice the level on a screen flatten out, Dexter turns to look at me. “I’ll stay below fifteen thousand feet. Keep your eyes peeled.”
I nod and look out the window again, squinting at the terrain. With the intermittent radio chatter, it’s hard to carry on a conversation, so I just look down at the ground over a thousand feet below us and try to stay calm.
I’ve never been a good flyer and even though it’s calm and not in the slightest bit bumpy, all my muscles are tensed, and I can’t wait to get back on the ground again.
When it seems we’ve been flying for miles, Dexter taps me on the leg making me jump. “Are there any places he’s been recently? Maybe he left something and went back to get it?”
I screw my face up as I try to think. “Chelsea said they were at an old mine?”
He shoots me a meaningful look. “There are a lot of old mines around here. A name would be good.”
I pull a face. “Sorry. She didn’t say which one and I didn’t think to ask.”
He looks out the window to his left. “We can look at the most obvious places first. Macetown, the church. But we’re running out of light.”
I nod as though it makes sense. But when the plane starts to veer right, my stomach starts to flip about, and I’m more worried I’ll be sick, than about finding a man who perhaps doesn’t want to be found.
I don’t even want to think about what will happen if we can’t find Michael in time.
My little sister can be a pain in the ass, but she doesn’t deserve to be jilted hours before her wedding.
Dexter seems to be thinking the same thing I am. “How well do you know Michael?”
I shrug. “I’ve only met him once. But then I never know Chelsea’s boyfriends well. She kind of goes through them.”
A wry smile crinkles his eyes as he keeps his eyes on the industrial land a thousand feet beneath us. “Yeah. I got that impression.”
Rather than defend her, when it’s the truth, I keep my eyes on the approaching yard below us.
I see nothing but lots of tarnished land stretching on for miles underneath us. While I keep looking for any signs of Michael’s vehicle, Dexter tells me what we’re looking at.
“A lot of settlers came here looking for gold. They set up camp and built mines. But the reports were so exaggerated most packed up and left. There’s almost a dozen small mines open to tourists, and just as many ghost towns.”
As interesting as that all is, I’m not really up here for a guided tour. I’d just as sooner be on the ground, getting dressed, than flying around looking at Old Denver, or whatever it’s called.
Other than that. The fact there are so many places he could be, makes it even less likely we’ll find him in time. “He could be hiding anywhere,” I groan.
Dexter slides me look sidelong. “Interesting word choice. You think he’s hiding?”
Heat brushes my cheeks as I hastily shake my head. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant if he were hiding, this is the perfect location to do it.”
Dexter nods. “Who chose Macetown as the wedding venue?”
I stare out the window and look at the famous mountains on the horizon. A frown grows as I try to remember. “I’m not sure.”
Dexter flicks a switch before replying. “I’d have picked her as more of a five-star resort kind of girl.”
A smile twitches at my lips. “That’s why she isn’t staying in Macetown. Only three-star accommodation.”
He looks bemused so I carry on. “I think this was a bit of a rush to arrange.”
His eyebrow raises and something flickers over his face I’m not sure I understand. “Short engagement?’
Either he already knows it was, or he knows something I don’t. “Very. Not even a month.”
He twists in his seat and looks like he’s about to ask me a question but his eyes flick to the dashboard. “What?”
I lean closer to him, slightly alarmed at the way he’s scrutinizing the dash. “Is something wrong?”
His finger taps on his leg and looks increasingly perturbed. Finally, he turns back and makes a point of not looking at me. “There’s the church. I can fly over the town, and if we see him you can let Chelsea know.”
I open my mouth to ask the obvious, ‘and then what’? But think better of it.
Instead, I keep my eyes on the tiny town Chelsea is supposed to be arriving with mom and dad in a few hours.
Dexter was right, there isn’t a lot of activity, and as we fly over the street, I can’t see anything resembling Michael’s flashy car.
The plane angles to the left, and Dexter points to a steep incline. “The church is over this hill.”
I give him a clipped nod, and scan for any sign Michael’s decided to return here. Considering how worried his parents were, I can’t see him driving here again without at least warning someone.
At least I can set Chelsea’s mind at ease that we didn’t see any car accidents on the way here.
We fly over the hill, and I immediately see a large wooden church. Since the facilities weren’t up to Chelsea’s standards, a large marquee has been erected beside the church.
There’s a vehicle parked atop the winding road, but it’s not Michael’s. More likely the poor caterer or the florist both of who had to drive all the way in from West Fork.
Dexter flies in a little lower, but I can’t see any sign that Michael is here again. I release a sigh and let my head relax back into the rest.
I keep my eyes on Dexter as he turns the plane back around. He seems a little disappointed when he speaks. “I’ll take one more look, but I’m going to land so I can check something.”
He doesn’t elaborate as we fly over the church and I see the caterer duck inside the marquee.
“The caterer will be unpacking the glassware,” I mumble.
It seems like such a trivial thing to be worried about when Chelsea’s fiancé is missing but Dexter seems to understand as he looks down. “Maybe have someone call to tell her to wait?”
I pull out my phone and look to him for permission. “Can I use it?”
He smiles, and my stomach backflips. “You’re all good to try it, but the coverage can be patchy here.”
I switch it back on and see immediately he’s right about the coverage. Rather than bother Chelsea, I dial mom’s number but all I get is empty air as the call isn’t connected.
I give up just as Dexter speaks. “Wait a sec. Thought I saw something. Going in for a closer look.”
The plane turns far too sharply for my liking and I have to brace myself as we start to descend.
I squint at the ground far below us, but can’t see anything but miles of arid, barren land and a winding road.
I’m about to say I don’t see anything when a flash of movement makes me lean forward in my seat.
My heart starts to beat a little faster, but my hopes are dashed when the car below is red rather than the black of Michael’s car.
Dexter looks over at me. “No luck with the phone?”
I shake my head and hold up my cell so he can see the lack of coverage. “I’ll try again soon.”
His nod is distracted as he glances at his watch and checks the dash. A frown grows on his face as he flicks the gauge.
A knot forms in my stomach as his jaw starts to work and his shoulders tense a little. “Hmmm,” he says.
My heart rate seems to triple as he looks across at me. “Something’s going on with the fuel gauge. I’m going to take her down and double-check. Just to be on the safe side.”
As we start to descend my anxiety only grows until I’m feeling sick to my stomach. “What’s wrong with it?”
He doesn’t look at me when he answers. “I measured the amount of fuel onboard and factored in fuel burn; by my calculations, we should have burned through more fuel than we have.”
I have no idea whether that’s bad, so I keep my eyes glued to the full fuel gauge. “Did you make a mistake?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe with either the measurement or the calculation. But if I was wrong, we’d be venting fuel, not conserving it. I can’t fly until I know for sure. We won’t know I’m out of fuel until it’s too late.”
Anxiety now dripping from me as freely as the sweat pooling down my back, Dexter stays completely calm, as he tells the tower he’s making a landing.
As we approach the airstrip, I hold my breath as he lines the plane up as he flips switches and checks the dash.
The ground rushes up to meet us, and as we drop, I jam my eyes tight until I feel the slight bump as we touch down.
I exhale slowly, entire body tense as the plane slows. He brings it alongside a hanger, and I nearly kiss him in my relief to be back on the ground.
When he pulls his headset off, he gives me a confident smile. “May as well get out and stretch your legs while I check.”
My legs are a little wobbly, and my hands trembling as I open the door, and near tumble out.
There’s a bench right beside the hanger, so I stumble towards it and collapse.
I should be calling Chelsea, but I’m too out of sorts to talk to her right now.
Instead, I close my eyes, lean my head back and pray I don’t have to get back in the plane again.
***
Dexter
Rather than jump to conclusions without all the information, I check on the fuel cap just to make sure I screwed it on tight; I know there’s good reason to be concerned.
Yesterday and this morning the fuel gauge was fine but for whatever reason, it’s no longer working.
There’s no way I can risk flying again. With an inaccurate reading, I’d never know how much fuel I’d burned until it was too late.
As it is, I didn’t notice it when I should have. Scarlett’s presence is throwing me more than I’d have anticipated.
Maybe it’s knowing she’s off-limits, maybe it’s because I know how incredible she looks naked, but I’m struggling to stay focused.
I amble over to her, trying to keep my face from giving away anything. Her eyes meet mine as I stop in front of her. “Can you get a signal?”
She holds out her cell and shakes her head. I take a seat alongside her and try to put it as gently as I can. “You might need to call someone and have them come pick you up.”
Her eyebrows arch. “You can’t fly the plane?”
I glance at the Cessna. “I can keep flying. But I wouldn’t risk it with a passenger. I do need to get back to the hanger, so I can take a look. Whatever happens with Michael, I can’t take passengers up until I have a working gauge.”
She releases a long sigh. “I can call dad, but he’s out looking for Michael. I’d rather not have them worrying about me too. What if I walked into Macetown?”
I look sidelong at her. “We could do that, sure.”
Her head angles and a smile plays at her lips. “We? You’d come with me?”
I nod far too quickly. “Yeah. You’re my passenger. You don’t know the area and it’ll be dark soon.”
She runs a hand through her hair and looks at the deserted airstrip. “Okay. But what about you? Aren’t you supposed to stay with the plane? What if someone steals it?”
I lean back against the wall of the hanger and work my jaw as I consider. “Your safety is more important than the plane. “
The slightest of pink brushes her cheeks and I realize it’s the truth.
I look her over and gesture to the heeled boots she’s wearing. “You think you can walk in those boots?”
I think she’s going to say she can, but she gets to her feet and puts her phone to her ear. “I’ll keep trying dad and let him know we won’t be back anytime soon.”
As she walks away, looking tense as she tries her family again, I know I shouldn’t be staring at her ass.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about a lot of things that could lead me even further up shit creek.
But when she starts to speak, and I know she’s got hold of her dad, a part of me thinks this weekend could turn out better than I’d hoped.
I can call Jack, ask him to come when he can, or send someone else to take a look.
But he’d need to get permission to leave the base and come get me. The Wing Commander might find out.
That would lead to more questions and more problems I’m actively trying to avoid.
While she’s explaining to her dad, and mentioning the caterer, I head back to the Cessna and hop back in the cockpit.
I find my cell, switch it on, and scroll through the list of mechanics I know. Technically I should be calling the owner, but since Michael is missing, and I doubt his father will deem this important, it’s a safer bet to just locate and fix the problem then charge them.
I grab the basket of food meant for after the wedding, take the key out of the ignition, lock the doors and hop out of the plane.
I drop the gear down on the bench and listen to Scarlett’s strained voice as she talks to her dad. “No, I’m fine. I’m with Dexter. Please don’t worry about me. You keep looking for him. I can stay in the room Chelsea booked here in Macetown.”
Scarlett’s voice rises a notch. “Dad? You’re cutting out. My battery is going flat…”
She curses and grimaces as she pushes her cell into her front pocket. “What a mess.”
At the genuine distress on her face, something tightens in my chest. “If you think you can handle it, we could head to the motel now?”
Her lip catches her teeth as she looks at the plane. “As long as you’re okay to leave the plane?”
I shrug. “I’m okay.”
She nods and releases a sigh as she looks down at her heeled boots. “Well, thank you. Didn’t exactly plan to be hiking in these.”
Her face twists into a scowl. “I’ll probably twist my ankle and you’ll wind up carrying me.”
Mental images of my slinging her over my shoulder flash before my eyes, and before I can stop it the words tumble from my mouth. “I wouldn’t mind.”
Her eyes pop, and her lips twitch into an uncertain smile. “I’m pretty heavy. You might not be able to.”
A low growling sound erupts from my throat. “If you needed me to, I’d carry you to the motel.”
Her chest starts to rise and fall making all my hairs stand on end. My feet are edging towards her, and she’s not moving. “Is that a move? Are you making a move on me?”
My lip curls. “If I make a move, you’ll know.”
Her mouth parts, her full lips tantalizing, as she looks me dead in the eye. “I don’t doubt it. But I’m not interested.”
The way her body is angling toward mine and the increase in her breathing says otherwise.
“Neither am I,” I say.
Her eyebrows rise. “Really? So, you offer to carry all your passengers to a motel?”
I shake my head too quickly. “I’m not flirting with you. I was just stating a fact.”
She chokes out a laugh. “Sure, you were.”
I narrow my eyes and make sure my voice comes out cool. “Let’s not get things confused.”
Scarlett’s arms fold over her chest. “I’m not confused. Are you confused?”
I am confused. She’s confusing the hell out of me because I would carry her to the motel.
I start to tell her that when my brain reminds me this isn’t the time or the place.
I jerk my thumb to the road. “Let’s get moving.”
When she nods and picks up the picnic basket, for a second I imagine we’re out here under different circumstances.
With the mountains surrounding us, and the town below us, it’s a perfect spot for a romantic picnic.
To distract myself, I start walking slower than I’d normally which earns me a frown. “Don’t worry about me. I can keep up with you.”
I don’t answer her, I just jam my hands in my pockets, and silently pray that Michael doesn’t show up and we have to spend the night here.
Because despite her insistence she’s not interested, every time I look back to check on her, she can’t seem to look me in the eye.
Either she doesn’t like me, or she’s trying not to.
As we get to the top of the incline, and I catch her looking at my ass, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.
