Fatal Justice (Jack Lamburt #1)(43)

Jack had called her Sunday morning and asked her if she’d like to get a cup of coffee later that day before he drove back to D.C. Even though her heart was beating like a jackhammer in her chest, she surprised herself by being able to answer in a nonchalant manner. “Sure, that’d be okay.”

When she hung up the phone, her hands had been trembling.



She nudged Jack. “Hey, wake up. You can’t sleep on our honeymoon.”

“What? I’m not sleeping.” He looked over at her, grinned, and placed his head on her shoulder.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re supposed to be so excited that you’re pacing the aisle, unable to stay in your seat for more than five minutes. Remember how you used to say how hot I was? Before I was pregnant?”

“Are. How hot you are,” he corrected her with a smile and laid his hand across her inner thigh, her one ticklish spot that he’d discovered by accident on their first date, and squeezed softly. Before the baby had started growing he had been relentless in his thigh squeezes, borderline torturous, making her squirm in her seat whenever he was in a devilish mood. Now his thigh squeezes had morphed into gentle caresses.

“I’ve been aroused since we got married. Does that count for anything?”

Cheryl eyes lit up and she giggled as she leaned over to give him a playful kiss. “You bet it does.”



Beverly rolled her beverage cart next to them. She locked the wheels and held out a cocktail napkin.

“Hi, folks, can I get you a beverage this evening?”

“Can I have a bottled water?” asked Cheryl.

“Sure. And you, sir?”

“I’ll have a Diet Coke, lots of ice, please,” said Jack.

Cheryl knew that he wanted more than a Diet Coke, but being a supportive husband, he’d refrained from alcohol after she became pregnant. A gesture that she’d found nice, but she never believed in holding anyone back, so it also annoyed her.

“He’ll have some rum with that too, please,” said Cheryl. “A double.”

She turned to Jack, “I told you, don’t be martyring up to me and trying to ‘share my pain.’” She finger quoted and switched to an exaggerated arm pinch, a habit she had when adding emphasis to a point that she was trying to make. “Got that, old man? I mean, honey?” She leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips and he grinned.

“Okay, honey, I’ve got it.” He squeezed her hand under the blanket and she rested her head on his shoulder. A sigh of contentment came from her lips as she closed her eyes and snuggled in close to him, both arms wrapped around his bicep as he sipped his drink.





Airliner Down Chapter 6





One hour and twenty minutes before the event

“Miss. Oh, miss!” the old man in 3B bellowed out to Carol, waggling his empty glass at her, rattling the ice cubes that hadn’t had a chance to melt in the thirty seconds it had taken him to down his second drink. “Another drink. I’ll have another drink. Scotch ’n’ rocks,” he called out.

Carol, the senior member of the flight crew with over twenty years’ seniority, had her pick of stations on every flight. She chose to work first class because most of the people she served were hard-working businesspeople. Nice folks with good social skills who were appreciative of her service. But not this guy. He was just obnoxious.

She looked over at the loudmouth and fake-smiled at him. “I’ll be right with you, sir.” Jackass.

He looked to be in his fifties and wore steel-rimmed glasses that were a seventies throwback. Fat, balding with a bad combover, he was stuffed into a polyester suit that had maybe fit him in high school, on a good day. His tie was so tight that it dug into the fat around his neck, causing it to hang over his collar like the jowls of an old Saint Bernard. He had a blotchy red face, from high blood pressure or alcohol abuse or whatever else he’d done to kill himself over the years. Yech. Carol’s stomach turned as she took in his appearance, and she forced herself to look away before her nausea progressed to vomiting.

“One minute, sir,” she said.

“I’ll have another drink,” he called out, rattling his glass again, just in case she hadn’t gotten the message the first thirty times he’d done it.

“Just a minute, sir.” Double jackass.

Beverly came into the galley next to Carol and opened up one of the cabinets. “My drinks are going like crazy. I’m out of cups already. Can you spare any?”

“Looks like someone didn’t refill their station supplies before we left. I’ll be writing that in my report, young lady.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. I was a last-minute swapout with Tess.”

“I saw that. She gave up a three-day layover in Hawaii for you?”

“Yeah, I owe her big-time. Of course, now that I see she didn’t stock her station correctly, I’ll have to punish her.” She playfully smacked Carol’s ass. “How many whacks should I give her?”

“Please. Get in line.” Carol smiled, and Beverly laughed in response to her pretend dislike.

“I know, it’s not fair that one person could be so beautiful. I’d hate her if she wasn’t so cool,” Beverly replied.

The old man in 3B interrupted them with more cup rattling. “Did you hear me? I’ll have another. Please.”