Low Pressure

Her cell phone rang and when she saw the calling number on the LED, she answered before it could ring a second time. “Olivia? You got my message? How’s Daddy?”

To give her privacy, Gall left the office and rejoined Dent in the hangar.

“Admit it, Ace, it’s a sweet puppy.”

“It’s a nice airplane.”

Gall scoffed at the understatement. “Yeah and Marilyn Mon-roe was a blonde.” He continued to admire the airplane as he said, “The senator wants you bad. He thinks you got a raw deal from the airline.”

“What does he know about—”

“He wants to give you a chance to reinstate—”

“I don’t need to prove—”

“Just shut up a minute and hear me out, okay? He’s now willing to take only ten percent of your charters, and he’s upped the offer on your salary. Upped it a lot. It’s a cream puff of a deal. The guy’s bending over backward to get you to say yes, and you’d be crazy—Are you listening?”

He had been, but he’d become distracted when Bellamy emerged from the office. He had only to look at her face to know that something was dreadfully wrong.

She walked quickly toward them. “It’s Daddy. I’ve got to go to Houston. Can you drive me home right away so I can get my car?”

Dent responded immediately by taking her arm and ushering her toward the Vette. “We’ll get there faster if I drive you.”

“I have a better idea. Fly this down there.” Gall motioned toward the new airplane. “He urged me to put you in the cockpit, give you a taste of it.”

“I’m not insured.”

“He insured you.”

“Without ever flying with me? Or even meeting me?”

“Shows how confident he is. He left it here for you to fly. Says it’ll get rusty otherwise. And the lady here has an emergency.”

Dent turned to Bellamy and took her shoulders between his hands. “Depends on you. I’m type-rated to fly an airplane this size, but I’ve never been in that cockpit.”

She shook her head in apparent confusion.

“It’s like the first time behind the wheel of a new car,” he said. “You gotta familiarize yourself.”

“How long does that take?”

“Coupla hours.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

“Or a coupla minutes.” He gripped her shoulders tighter and said without equivocation. “I can fly it, but it’s your call.”

In under two hours they arrived at the ICU waiting room, where Olivia was sitting alone, hugging her elbows, staring into space. She shot to her feet when she saw Bellamy, but made no move toward her when Dent appeared behind her.

Bellamy asked, “Are we too late?”

“No.” Olivia sat back down as though her legs had given out from under her. “He’s drifting in and out of consciousness. They’re afraid he’ll lapse into a coma. That’s why I called you when I did. This may be your last chance to speak to him.”

Bellamy crossed the room and put her arms around her stepmother. They clung to each other for several minutes, crying together. Eventually Bellamy pulled away and blotted her face with a tissue. “When can I see him?”

“The doctor is with him now. He’s trying to determine if there’s anything viable they can do. The nurse promised to come and get me when we can go in.”

She looked past Bellamy toward Dent, who had come no farther than the doorway. “Dent flew me here,” Bellamy explained. “Fortunately we were able to leave almost immediately after I spo