Page 8 of The Big Fix

“I have no idea,” I told her, noting that even the messy bun, the clothes that looked like she’d slept in them, and the Converse sneakers did not diminish her incandescent beauty. Everyone noticed her looks, and she hated that people didn’t take her seriously because of it. Except me. I always looked at the inside.

“I’m drinking,” she told me. “May I assume you are too?”

I nodded.

“Bourbon?”

Another nod.

“I’ll make it a double.”

“Better bring the bottle,” I told her.

She studied my face. “Why aren’t you relieved?”

“I am. You know I am. But he’s still missing.”

“We’ll find him,” she promised, grasping my shoulder.

“I hate this,” I muttered.

Leaving me for a moment, she was back quickly and set a double bourbon on the table beside me, along with the bottle of Pappy Van Winkle 23. I drained the glass hungrily and filled it twice more before I finally felt like I was back in my own skin and wasn’t dreaming.

“Thank you for coming,” I told her. She’d been putting in more hours lately, as Hasana couldn’t travel in the third trimester.

“Don’t thank me.” She took the seat beside me, her dark-mahogany eyes absorbing my face. “It’s Owen. Of course I’m here.”

When we reached cruising altitude, Arden put the plane on autopilot and joined me and Jing in the forward cabin.

“Who the hell is in the coffin in the cargo bay?” Arden took a seat across from me. “Because as soon as I saw you, I knew it wasn’t Owen.”

I nodded. “I was so scared, and then I saw the man on the table. Even being in the water for three days, it was clear to me right away that was a stranger.” I exhaled loudly.

She stared at me, not saying a word.

“Or I could be wrong.”

“No,” Arden assured me. “I believe in your gut, and whatever you thought first is right. It’s not him. Let’s go with that.”

“Okay,” I agreed because it was the only way I was holding it together.

The three of us sat quietly for long moments.

“So I filed the false flight plan as you directed,” Arden said into the silence. “But do you mind telling me where we’re really headed so I can actually get us there?”

“Nepal.”

“I’ll make sure we are authorized to land at Tribhuvan International. You look like hell, by the way, boss.” Since she’d seen me in better shape, and worse, she was allowed to make that judgment.

“You know,” Jing chimed in gently, “the flight is about three and a half hours. Maybe you should try and get some sleep.”

I barked a harsh laugh. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Arden said, then glanced at Jing. “You should try and sleep too.”

Jing nodded, and Arden returned to the flight deck. Moments later, Jing moved to the opposite side of the plane to stretch out. She knew I couldn’t talk, couldn’t break down what was running through my head, so she left me alone to run through, again, the jumbled events clutching at my brain. I fished out my mobile and dialed one of the five numbers I had in Favorites. I appreciated Darius answering on the second ring.

“Well?” he asked without preamble.