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“I’m not going in.”
“Yes, you are. You can work off your hangover there. It’ll be good for you.”
“I said I’m not going.” He grabbed the corner of the blanket and rolled under it.
“Did you drive home drunk last night?”
“No, Eric got me.”
I narrowed my eyes into slits, reminding myself to thank Eric later. And to maybe verify his story. Mitch knew better than to drive home drunk but lately, he’d been different. Who’s to say he didn’t do it once because it wasn’t that far a drive?
“Well, I’m taking the car to work today, so you’re stuck here.”
“Whatever,” he grumbled and fell asleep.
Dressed and ready to greet more tourists, although my heart wasn’t into it this morning, I walked over to the car whichwas parked off kilter at an angle in our parking spot. Eric would never have left the car like that. In that moment, a knife to the heart would’ve hurt less. Mitch had lied.
I pulled up in front of the airport and surveyed the parking lot. Eric’s car was parked closer to the edge of the building. A swirling of emotions mixed all up in me. I didn’t want to confront Eric, he’d been a great friend to me and the best of friends to Mitch, so naturally I’d assume the guys would stay loyal to each other. I highly doubted I was going to get much information from him. Ugh. My frustration level was sky high, and I hit the steering wheel in protest, the jolt reverberating up my arm. Not only was I angry and confused about everything, now I was sporting an ache in my wrist.
I hopped out of the car and slammed the door so hard I almost hoped it would shatter the glass – maybe that would be the release I desperately needed. But I didn’t and seeing it all in one piece calmed me for a heartbeat. No doubt replacing the window would be an added expense I didn’t need right now.
But what did I need?
Answers. So many answers.
I ripped into the building and beelined to my computer, drumming my fingers as I waited for the computer to start up so I could log on. And hunt down what information I didn’t already have.
“Morning.” Eric walked over to my desk.
I snorted. “Morning.”
“Rough night?”
“As if you didn’t know.” I couldn’t even make eye contact.
Instead, I stared at my computer screen, internally screaming at it to run quicker. Damn seven-year-old system.
He looked at me sideways. “I really don’t.” The sincerity on his face said it all since Eric was a terrible liar.
“You drove an intoxicated Mitch home last night, and youdidn’t get home until super late.” My breath hinged in my chest.
Eric backed away from the desk. “Is that what he said?”
My jaw dropped, and betrayal stabbed me through my soul. “You weren’t with Mitch? At all?”
Lowering my head and glaring up at my friend, I narrowed my eyes into thin little slits. Mostly it was to keep the tears from leaving. I was at work, and I had a duty to remain professional. I’d never failed at that before as I could always leave my problems at the door. Mind you, I didn’t work with my current problem so that could be an issue.
“I’m going to get the bird ready and talk with Mitch.” Eric was already halfway across the small room. “Can you print me the schedule?”
“No need, I did it yesterday.” I rattled off the number of passengers and destinations. One across the island and one into YVR.
The door swung open and one of our older mechanics stepped in. “Sorry I’m late, y’all.” He limped over to my desk. “What’s going out today?”
I passed him the clipboard. “I’ll double check nothing’s changed.”
The computer had finally fired up and with a tap-tap-tap, today’s listing of passengers was neatly on display. Everything checked out, and so far, no cancellations. The printer ran through its motions and the manifest sat on the top.
Eric’s eyes enlarged and he sauntered over to the desk. “Where’s Mitch, by the way?” He kept his voice low as to not upset the other mechanic, who was older and only worked as part time. Very part time. As in whenever someone called in sick.
