Bel-Air Dead (Stone Barrington 20)

“Oh, okay,” he said absently. “I’m going to L.A. for a few days,” he said.r />

“Another vacation?” she asked.

“You know I never take vacations, unless there’s work involved.”

“What’s the work?”

“Voting some shares at a stockholders’ meeting for Arrington Calder.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“No, I have to persuade others to vote with me.”

“If there are any women in the group, you’ll succeed,” she said.

Stone brightened. “That’s a thought,” he said.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know-give me a week.”

“It’s not as though you’re needed here,” she said. “I can handle whatever comes along.”

Stone knew that was close to the truth. “Try not to practice any law,” he said. “You’ll get arrested.”

“Don’t worry, there won’t be any of my fingerprints on anything.” She flounced back to her office.

At Teterboro Airport, Stone did his walk-around preflight inspection of the airplane while Dino stowed their luggage in the forward compartment. When he finished, Dino was standing, staring at the airplane. It was the first time he’d seen it, Stone reflected.

“Well, I like the paint job,” Dino said.

“Is that it?”

“The airplane is kind of pretty; it looks like it could fly, if it had to.”

Stone pushed him aboard and settled him in the copilot’s seat, then pulled up the stairs and closed the door. He got into the pilot’s seat, ran through the checklist, and started the engines.

Then he called Teterboro Clearance and got his IFR clearance for his first leg.

“How many times do we have to stop?” Dino asked.

“Twice, if we’re lucky. There’ll be very little in the way of headwinds today, maybe even a little tailwind. That’s unusual.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Dino said.

Stone radioed Ground Control and got permission to taxi. Shortly, they were ready for takeoff.

Stone looked at Dino and saw a film of sweat on his forehead. “I turned on the air-conditioning,” he said. “Are you still hot?”

“I’ll be okay,” Dino said, mopping his brow.

It occurred to Stone that Dino might really be nervous about flying in the jet. “I’ll give you something to look at,” he said, pointing to the copilot’s Primary Flight Display. He pressed a button on the throttle and a wide, magenta V popped up on the screen. “When we take off, all I have to do is to keep the yellow V, which represents the airplane, nestled up against the magenta V, which represents our climb angle and course. As long as the two are together, we’re fine.”

“Okay,” Dino said, tightening his seat belt.

The tower called and cleared them for takeoff. Stone taxied onto Runway One, stopped the airplane, centered the heading control, and, with the brakes on, shoved the throttles all the way forward. The engines ran up, and he released the brakes. The little jet shot down the runway, and, at ninety knots, Stone rotated, pulling the yellow V up into the magenta V. He raised the landing gear and flaps, then, at 700 feet, he pressed the autopilot button and turned the heading bug to 040. At 1,500 feet, following the departure procedure, he turned to 280 and climbed to 2,000 feet, then the controller gave him 10,000 feet, and they were on their way.

Dino was staring at the PFD.