Page 7 of Mile High Ruin

Something in my answer seems to satisfy her. She nods toward the manifest. “You should learn their names before we depart.”

“I was about to.”

I pick up the passenger roster. Four names are listed in neat black print.

Anton Vedenin.

Marek Yudin.

Iosef Tarlenko.

Vadim Chernovar.

I read the final name twice. Vadim Chernovar. I know almost immediately that’s him. The large man has to be the one called Vadim. It suits him.

Hard consonants. No softness anywhere.

Camille reaches past me for a bottle of sparkling water. “Mr. Chernovar prefers this before takeoff,” she says. “No ice. Mr. Vedenin takes black coffee. Mr. Yudin will ask for vodka even though we have not departed. Don’t serve it until the captain clears us. Mr. Tarlenko usually takes nothing unless Mr. Chernovar orders first.”

I look at her. “You already knew which was which.”

“I’ve worked for them before.”

“You could have mentioned that before I started solving the manifest like a puzzle.”

“You didn’t ask.”

A smile threatens at the corner of my mouth. I suppress it.

She places a glass on a silver tray and hands it to me. “You can serve Mr. Chernovar.”

I look through the opening again. Vadim is reading something the man beside him has placed on the table. His face is expressionless. One large hand rests against his thigh. “I thought the goal was not to give him another reason to notice me.”

“The goal is to perform your duties correctly.” There’s a challenge in her voice now.

Fine.

I pour the water carefully. My hands are steady. They’re always steady when I’m working.

Whatever else I think of Vadim Chernovar, he is a passenger.

I know how to deal with passengers.

I step into the cabin. The men’s conversation stops before I reach them. Four sets of eyes turn toward me.

Vadim looks up last. His gaze drops briefly to the tray, then returns to my face.

“Your water, Mr. Chernovar.” I place the glass on the table beside him without making a sound.

His eyes remain on me. “The bag has been secured?”

There it is again. That quiet, infuriating condescension.

“Yes.”

“Properly?”

I meet his gaze with a calm smile. “I fastened the compartment myself. The aircraft is safe from my handbag.”