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21
Teddy Fay, now Jack Smithson, had a busy day. First, he went to the Department of Motor Vehicles and exchanged the Georgia driver’s license he had created and planted in the Georgia database for a Florida license. Now he was perfectly legitimate. He had a fixed address and a government-issued picture ID.
He chose a bank near his house and opened a checking account and a savings account with a cashier’s check from a Miami bank that his Cayman bank had arranged. He drove out to the western outskirts of Vero Beach, just past I-95, and found an outlet mall with a Ralph Lauren store. He owned few clothes, so he bought a lightweight suit, a blue blazer and a tweed jacket, plus trousers, underwear, shirts and ties, and a dozen Polo shirts in various colors. He thought of that as Florida camouflage. He found a Publix market near his rented house and stocked up on groceries in some depth, then he went home, put away the groceries and, with a needle and thread, fixed the length on all his new trousers, dress and khakis. He pressed everything and put the things in his drawers and closets, then answered the doorbell.
He let the deliverymen in with his new safe and showed them where to bolt it to the floor in the closet in his study. As soon as they left he changed the delivery combination to one of his own, then removed his cash and equipment from the wall behind the sofa and stowed them, along with a number of weapons, in the large safe.
Holly attended the closing on the sale of her new airplane with Ginny. After she was handed the keys, the logbooks and a nylon briefcase containing all the manuals and instruction books for the airplane and its equipment, she and Ginny went for a test flight.
“I flew it earlier today,” Ginny said, “and all it needed was to have the tires properly inflated.”
“That’s good news,” Holly said. She ran through the checklist and started the airplane, then called the tower and got permission to taxi to a runway. She did her run-up tests before requesting take-off, and she was cleared. She taxied to the centerline of the runway, did her final checks and pushed the throttle forward. The airplane accelerated down the runway and lifted off with a tug of the yoke, and she was flying her very own airplane.
“This is exhilarating!” she cried.
Ginny laughed. “Turn right to two-forty, climb to eight thousand feet and we’ll head out to a practice area.” On reaching the practice area, Holly switched on the autopilot and let it fly the airplane, while she entered a flight plan and an instrument approach into the computer.
They did some slow flight and practiced turns and stalls, then flew a couple of low approaches before landing at Okeechobee Airport, where they refueled and had lunch in the airport’s restaurant. After lunch, they practiced emergency landings and short-field landings, then flew back to Vero and flew another instrument approach to a full stop.
Holly shut down the engine and got out of the airplane. “That was really fun,” she said. “I feel as though I could fly her home right now.”
“You’ve still got a lot to learn about your airplane,” Ginny said. “Now go home and start memorizing the Owner’s Operation Handbook. You’re going to need all that stuff, and you’ll wow them when you show up for training.”
Holly did exactly that, breaking only for dinner for herself and Daisy. She fell asleep that night with the operator’s handbook open on her stomach.
Teddy greeted Adele Mason with a stiff Scotch. “My, what’s that wonderful aroma?” she asked.
“A lamb stew. It’s been cooking for hours.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, sipping her drink. “How have your first days gone?”
“I’m a Florida resident now,” Teddy said. “Driver’s license and all. I bought some new clothes, opened a bank account and made myself at home.”
“The place looks wonderful with somebody living in it. The elderly couple who own the house have outlived their only daughter, and they don’t have any grandchildren, so there was nobody to live in the guesthouse.”
“I like living on the beach,” Teddy said. “I like being able to hear the surf when I go to bed and wake up in the morning. Where do you live, Adele?”
“I rent a tiny condo farther up the island, half a mile from the beach. I was divorced six years ago, and I can’t really afford to buy anything until I sell a lot more houses.”
They had another drink. Then Teddy opened a bottle of California cabernet and served dinner. Adele raved about his cooking, and Teddy was suitably appreciative. He was enjoying himself as much as she was.
They took a brandy to bed and made enthusiastic love for the better part of an hour before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
This time, Adele woke first, shortly after midnight. “I’ve got early showings this morning,” she said.
“Why don’t you get that done then come back and spend the weekend here with me?” Teddy asked.
“I’d love to,” she said. “I could be back here around two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
“Perfect,” Teddy said. “We can go for a swim.”
“I’d love that,” she said, kissing him. “See you in the afternoon.”
She left, and Teddy drifted off to sleep again.
Adele got dressed and drove ba
ck to the highway. She turned right and headed north on A-1A, the road that ran up the barrier islands.
