Deadly Divergence

2-2

Mariah turned away to hide her wry grin. “Well, now we know who to avoid when we arrive, don’t we?” she teased in an undertone as Mac took a sip of his own drink. “Although I think you’re a hit with the secretarial pool!”

She should be used to it by now. Quinn MacAllister was tall, rugged, and undeniably handsome. Women of all ages had a tendency of fawning all over him. If she hadn’t been his partner…

Quickly she veered away from that thought. She loved Mac, always had and always would. And he returned her love in full measure. But FBI agents were strictly forbidden from having personal relationships.

Someday, one or the other of them would retire, and then things would be different. But for now, they kept it professional. Most of the time. The occasional light touch didn’t really count…did it? They’d never taken it further, even though they’d had ample opportunity.

No, of course that didn’t count. First and foremost, they were best friends. And friends did occasionally touch each other. There was nothing forbidden about that.

And she was psychoanalyzing again. Hadn’t she sworn, over and over, she wouldn’t do that anymore?

“Relax.” Mac murmured the single word under his breath.

It was maddening sometimes, the way he could read her so easily! But she wouldn’t have traded their intimate emotional link for all the wonders of the world.

Okay. Like it or not, they’d been cut loose on mandatory sick leave for two weeks. Thompson had obviously gone far out of his way to make their vacation enjoyable. She’d only hurt his feelings if she didn’t take advantage of the opportunity.

When she returned home, she’d be well-rested, fully healed, and ready to dive back into her research.

At least Miranda could take care of her lab animals until then, and record any changes in their health or behavior.

It appeared they were the last passengers scheduled to arrive. She’d no sooner finished her drink than a pretty young stewardess entered the spacious lounge. Had she been watching them from another room?

Nonsense, she was just letting FBI procedures color her perceptions again.

“My name is Holly.” The girl beamed around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes, and then swept a hand toward the wide double doors. “If you’ll just follow me, your plane is ready, and our captain says we can depart at any time!”

Plane? Magic carpet was closer to the mark! Despite their luxurious surroundings, Mariah had still envisioned a fairly standard transport—a DC10 or something comparable, with neat rows of blue fabric-covered seats, and a long, narrow aisle from the cramped cockpit to the compact lavatories.

She’d never been more wrong. The resort’s privately-owned Gulfstream was a modern miracle of luxury and comfort.

Plush ivory leather recliners were scattered throughout the cabin in small cozy groupings, and a long padded couch invited weary travelers to stretch out and watch exclusive movies on any of the dozen-odd color television screens.

Elegant crystal vases rested in small niches on each dining table. The single fragrant rose in each was ivory with soft blue-grey streaks rising up from the stem.

She wasn’t the only one staring around in wide-eyed amazement. The three secretaries were clustered together, pointing everywhere at once, and the elderly couple were frankly awed.

“My God, Mac!” she breathed, stunned. “Do people really travel like this?”

His long, slow whistle echoed in her ears. “You can bet the Bureau VIPs do, on a regular basis.” And since it was customary to purchase large blocks of flight time rather than individual trips, no wonder A.D. Thompson had been able to gift them with six hours!

“Of course you’re welcome to sit anywhere,” Holly assured them as they drifted into the spacious cabin and trailed reverent fingers over the butter-soft leather upholstery. “Once we’ve reached a cruising altitude, I’ll be happy to serve complimentary drinks from our full-service bar.

“We also stock all types of nonalcoholic drinks for our underage travelers,” she added with a teasing wink at the two teenagers who were just straggling into the plane. Neither glanced in her direction; they were too busy snarling at each other.

“We also offer a wide range of hot and cold meals for your dining pleasure,” she continued without a pause. “Of course this flight will be fairly short, but we aim to please. So if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask,” she finished with a brilliant smile.

Mac settled into one of the middle seats, and tucked his knapsack under the connecting table. Mariah sat down across from him, and sighed with pleasure as the plush chair cushioned her weary body. “Now this is the way to live!” she grinned.

The elderly couple took the couch opposite them, and the three younger women moved further back. Mariah saw them glance enticingly at Mac out of the corners of their eyes, and nearly rolled her own. How obvious could you get?

Mac relaxed in his own soft chair, and watched them sashay past.

People-watching was an ingrained habit, and over the years he’d gotten quite skilled at it. It was a talent that had helped make him a good profiler…not the best in his division, but then ‘the best’ was a brilliant fellow who was light-years beyond everyone else in the entire Bureau. Who could possibly compete with that?

Anyway, it was a surefire way to escape boredom on long, tedious flights. He never could resist making private bets about each passenger who caught his eye.

The secretaries, now, they were huddling close together and laughing over some private joke. They were probably looking for a hot island romance to spice up their summer vacations.

He hadn’t missed the provocative glances they’d thrown his way—a dead man could have picked up those sizzling vibes! Fortunately for him, ’Riah wasn’t the jealous type. Even more fortunate, he had no interest in accepting the invitations they’d so clearly tossed at his feet.

But it might be amusing to keep tabs on them, and see how well they fared with the local island nightlife. His money was on the busty brunette; she had that extra little sparkle that made her stand out from her two giggling roommates.

The sulky teenagers shared one last malevolent sneer, then sullenly moved to opposite ends of the cabin. Mac impulsively christened them The Tennis Twins, and made a firm mental note to avoid them at the resort. He didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire if they decided to hurl more than just sour looks.

And the white-haired Jewish couple across from him…

This was probably their first real vacation in years, he decided. Had their kids paid for this special anniversary gift? From the way they were nervously staring around as ground crew personnel sealed the exit door and slammed the cargo hatch, they probably didn’t travel much.

He deliberately stretched his long legs out in a leisurely yawn, and offered them a reassuring smile.

Conners was staring fixedly out the window. He glanced past her, trying to see what had caught her attention. Then he saw her lips silently moving, and recognized the intent look on her face. She was reviewing data again, trying to mentally piece fragments of research together.

“’Riah…” His warning was low. “You’re on vacation.”

She sucked in an indignant breath…then let it out again in a frustrated sigh. “I know, I know. It’s just hard to turn off the channel.”

“I’ll buy you a new remote.” He was rather pleased with his clever quip; wisecracks weren’t always his strong suit.

Suddenly another chill swept down his spine. His premonition was back full-force, cascading over him like icy rain.

Something was looming near…something to do with the airplane? No, not the airplane itself. It was the…

Damn it! Gone again!

Frustrated, he gripped the edge of the table and fought to calm his racing pulse.

They’d all been thoroughly vetted, and he’d bet his last dollar they’d passed through some sort of discreet body scanner as they’d walked through the mansion’s front door.

If nothing was wrong with the airplane or the other passengers, then what…?

“Mac.” Conners nudged him with one foot, and deliberately smirked at him. “You’re on vacation.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mustered a return sneer, and forced himself to relax. It wasn’t easy when all his senses were vibrating like a plucked harp string.

But his anxiety was making the retirees nervous, and he didn’t want that.

Could he have sensed, even at dawn, that something was wrong? Was that why he’d hesitated before climbing into his car, then gone back inside and retrieved his badge and gun?

So what was Mariah’s excuse? He’d glimpsed her badge clipped to the inside pocket of her stylish blue jacket. And he knew her 9mm, like his, was easily accessible in her concealed back holster.

Some habits died hard.

He’d felt vaguely foolish this morning, but now he felt a little better. Safer, if the nebulous danger had a human origin.

Maybe he should have strapped on his ankle holster, too, for good measure? But how could he have suspected danger might follow them even here, on a well-deserved vacation?

The small TV screens suddenly flashed to life, and a short infomercial began playing. Normally he ignored the flight attendant’s patient recital; he knew the FAA’s familiar, timeworn emergency instructions by heart. Still, he had to admit this film was nicely done, combining good graphics with an interesting narrative. He even glanced down at the plush carpeting to identify the tastefully disguised emergency lighting strips running the plane’s length.

The problem was, despite Hollywood’s passion for dramatic adventure movies, water landings were nearly always fatal to everyone aboard. When an airplane fragmented into millions of tiny pieces on impact, how could mere frail humans hope to survive?

The inflatable life rafts stowed in the Gulfstream’s galley were mainly for psychological reassurance. He couldn’t remember the last time one had actually been used.

But the elderly couple looked so nervous—hadn’t they ever been on an airplane before?—that he refrained from making any sarcastic quips.

They paled and clasped each other’s hands as the sleek little plane began taxiing down the runway, then gathered speed and surged upward with a muted roar.

Mac leaned forward to reassure them. “Takeoff is always the worst part,” he promised. “The rest is easy.”

Conners spared them a brief smile, then went back to her mental calculations. Vacation or not, if she could just fit the last few bits of data into a recognizable pattern…

Reuben rolled his eyes, and offered Mac a knowing wink. He looked just like Judd Hersch in Independence Day, Mac suddenly realized.

“Your wife can’t wait to get home again, either, eh?” he chuckled, leaning closer. “I’ve been trying for years to get mine out of the kitchen!”

Mac blinked in surprise. Mariah and he did their best to maintain a formal relationship in public. Was their private affinity really that visible to outside eyes?

“Quinn MacAllister,” he quickly introduced himself, reaching across to shake the old man’s weathered hand. “And this is my business partner, Mariah Conners.”

“So!” The friendly retiree accepted his uneasy correction with a philosophical shrug. “Reuben Schaumburg, and this is my wife Esther.” He seemed to be relaxing now that the plane had reached a steady altitude. “You’ve been to Bermuda before?”

“No,” Mac confessed with an easier smile. “We rarely get to travel for pleasure. You?”

Reuben vigorously shook his graying head. “This is our first time, too. Long time we’ve been waiting for this trip! Fifty years we celebrated yesterday…high time to take a vacation. And Bermuda is such a lovely place!

“But Esther!” He rolled his eyes in mock-exasperation. “It’s so much money, she says. It’s so far away—and on an airplane yet! She’s never been on an airplane before,” he confided in a loud whisper. “I tell her, it’s a safe way to travel! You wait and see!”

Beside him, the old woman was rolling her own dark eyes, playfully mimicking her husband’s every word and expression. Mac barely managed to keep from laughing as Reuben spun around to peer suspiciously at her, and she instantly assumed an angelic smile. Even Conners smiled when Esther winked ever-so-slightly at her.

“Our oldest boys…they’re both doctors…they bought this trip for us,” Esther confided with a doting smile. “‘Only the best for Papa and Mama!’ I nearly fell over flat when they took us out to dinner and handed us the tickets. I don’t think I’ve slept a wink since then!”

“Not that she’s excited or anything.” Reuben slid a facetious smirk in her direction, then affectionately patted her clasped hands. “So, we plan to make the most of the trip.

“What do you two do?”