No Return (5 page)

“Seriously, Dione. We saw someone die today.”

“I know, I know. I don’t really mean it. It’s just that officer taking our footage pissed me off.”

“He didn’t
take
it. He asked for it, and we gave it to him.”

“Ha! If we hadn’t, I’ll bet he would have taken it.” She looked around. “Get this. I talked to the office, expecting them to be as upset as I was, but they were all like it was no big deal, and that we’d done the right thing handing it over. Come on. Doesn’t anyone have any journalistic integrity?”

Wes stared at her, smirking. “Uh, not sure you know this, but we shoot vacation spots. We’re squeezed between a show called
Quest for the Perfect Cocktail
and
Tanya Takes a Trip
. Where, exactly, does journalistic integrity fit in there?”

As Dione scoffed, Danny and Tony returned carrying several drinks. They weren’t alone, either. Behind them were two men wearing jeans and button-down shirts, but giving off the obvious vibe of military.

“This is Lieutenant Wasserman,” Danny said, nodding his chin at the man closest to him. “And this is Lieutenant … uh …”

“Jenks,” the other man said. He held out his hand to Wes. “Just call me Ken.”

“And I’m Reid,” Wasserman added, also shaking Wes’s hand.

“I overheard these two guys talking about the crash, and told them we were there,” Danny explained. “They wanted to meet us. Well, you specifically, Wes.”

“Danny mentioned that you tried to get the guy out,” Tony said, then mouthed behind Danny’s back, “Sorry.”

Wes cringed inside.

“Your friend here told us you actually got up next to the cockpit,” Jenks said. “Is that true?”

Wes nodded.

“Said you were trying to get him out.”

“His harness was jammed. If I had a knife, maybe. But …” Wes just let it hang, not knowing how to finish.

“Did you talk to him?” Wasserman asked.

“Briefly. Sort of. He wasn’t in much condition to talk.”

Jenks nodded knowingly. “I don’t doubt that. What did he say?”

Wes adjusted uncomfortably in his seat. “Nothing much. He was in a lot of pain.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Jenks persisted.

“Look,” Wes said. “I don’t know what to tell you. He basically only acknowledged that he was conscious. I was too busy trying to free him to get into a conversation.”

“Of course.” Jenks leaned back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to push.”

“Thank you for trying to help him,” Wasserman said. “That means a lot to all of us.”

“We won’t bother you any longer,” Jenks added. “But we do want you to know your tab’s on us tonight. I mean all of you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Wes said.

“We insist.” Lieutenant Jenks held up a hand, indicating further protest was unnecessary.

“Thanks,” Wes said.

They gave Wes a nod, then turned and left.

“For a second there I thought they were going to salute you,” Danny said as he sat back down.

“Well, that was … interesting,” Anna said. She and Alison had returned in the middle of the conversation, but had hung back until the two Navy men had left.

Danny took a swig of his beer, then said, “When I started talking to them at the bar, a couple of the women came over. They were even more interested than our Navy friends.” He leaned toward Wes. “Man, if you play this right, you’re not going to have to sleep alone the whole time we’re here.”

“Danny,” Alison and Anna chided almost in unison.

“So not cool,” Tony said.

Wes shook his head. “Okay, I’ve had enough.”

He motioned for Dione and Alison to get out of his way, then scooted out of the booth.

“I’ll see you all in the morning.” He tossed Alison the keys to the Escape and started across the room.

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything.…”

If Danny said anything more, Wes didn’t hear it.

He weaved through the crowd and headed for the door. As he pushed it open a voice called out, “Wes, hold up.”

Looking over his shoulder, he spotted Tony moving around a small group of people standing just inside the entrance.

“Mind if I tag along?” Tony asked.

“Be my guest. But you’re missing free drinks.”

Tony let out a halfhearted laugh. “Sorry about the thing with those guys in the bar. That was all Danny.”

Wes smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I know how Danny is.”

“A deadly combination of harmless and clueless.”

Wes laughed. “Exactly right.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the whole time Wes sensing that Tony had something he wanted to say. Finally the production assistant worked up the nerve and asked, “You think we’ll have time to do a little training this trip?”

Over the past couple of assignments, Wes had been tutoring Tony on camera techniques during downtime. “I don’t see why not. That is, if you don’t drop the ball like you did today.”

“Drop the ball?” Tony looked confused.

“What is it I like to have in my hand when I’m drinking my coffee in the morning?”

Tony looked momentarily baffled, then he laughed to himself. “Poppy seed muffin.”

“And what was missing from my hand this morning?”

“A poppy seed muffin,” Tony said. “Sorry. Completely my fault.”

“You want to learn to be a good cameraman, then the first rule is take care of the one teaching you. I’d hate to forget some critical piece of information because I hadn’t had a proper breakfast.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”

Once Wes was back in his room at the motel, he lay in bed unable to sleep. At just after 11 p.m., someone knocked on the door.

“Just a minute,” he called out as he pulled on his jeans and T-shirt.

When he opened the door, he found Anna standing outside.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he replied, mellowing.

He pushed the door open wide enough so that she could slip in, then shut it behind her. A few seconds later they had their arms wrapped around each other and were in the middle of a deep, long kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Anna said when they finally pulled apart.

“I’ve been needing that all day.”

“What you’ve been needing is a slap upside the head,” she said. “I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you running toward the plane.”

“Don’t get all Dione on me,” he said.

She considered him for a moment. “Fine. But if that happens again, and I’m around, you’d better run the other way, or I will personally kill you.”

“I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

At five foot four, she was a good half foot shorter than Wes. She arched her head upward and kissed him again, her long brown hair falling down her back. She then put her hand in his and led him toward the bed.

“Danny was right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re not going to sleep alone the whole time we’re here.”

COMMANDER THOMAS FORMAN WAS STILL SITTING
at his desk as the clock ticked past midnight.

It was the crash, of course. Since the moment the plane had gone down, he’d been on the move putting things into motion, making sure every base was covered. He knew he should go home soon and try to get a little sleep, but until the call came through, he couldn’t go anywhere.

The phone finally rang at 12:09.

“Sir,” the voice on the other end said. “They’ve all returned for the night.”

“Any suspicious contact?” Forman asked.

“No, sir.”

“Phones?”

“The ones in their rooms were taken care of while they were out, and their cellphones are being monitored.”

Forman exhaled. It was all just precaution, but when it came to national security you didn’t take chances. “Have someone continue monitoring, and dismiss everyone else,” he ordered. “But first hint of trouble, everyone’s back on. I want this sealed tight.”

WES’S ALARM WENT OFF AT SIX. ANNA GAVE HIM
a kiss, rolled out of bed, and slipped quietly out the front door. He was pretty sure he mumbled a goodbye, but it could have been a dream. A second alarm woke him a half hour later. With a groan, he hobbled on sore knees into the bathroom to take a shower. The reflection that greeted him in the mirror was bruised and scratched.

“Awesome,” he said with zero feeling. The day ahead had to be better than the one he’d just gone through.

But before he could even get the water started, his cellphone rang. The name on the display read
CASEY
.

“Hey,” Wes said into the phone.

“You can’t be serious,” Casey said.

“Way too early for cryptic. What are you talking about?”

“The plane crash yesterday. You were there?”

“How did you know that?”

“I never reveal my sources.”

Casey Dake worked as one of the top researchers at the Quest Network. His job was information. He assisted producers and writers in gathering any facts and other data they might need for future shows.

Casey and Wes had been friends since college, meeting in the television/film department while working together on such collegiate classics as
Drive-Thru Confessions
and
The Man from La Mirada
. After graduation they’d stayed close. Casey had helped Wes get his gig at Quest. And when Casey had broken up with his longtime girlfriend, Wes had offered up the guest bedroom in his Santa Monica townhouse. They’d roomed together ever since.

“No. Really. How did you find that out?”

“Racquel over in HR. She just sent me an email to see if I’d heard from you. Apparently a couple military guys in uniform came to the office yesterday afternoon and asked about you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Racquel said they were making sure you worked for the company.”

It kind of made sense. The Navy would want to confirm Wes and the crew were who they said they were. But a phone call should have been enough to take care of that.

“So what happened?” Casey asked.

Wes gave him a condensed version of events, then asked his friend to keep him posted if any other gossip surfaced at the office.

“Sure,” Casey said. “And you try to stay out of trouble today, huh?”

“Don’t worry. I plan on it.”

Wes soaked in the shower, letting the heat work out some of the soreness in his muscles. Once he was finished, he dried off, shaved, brushed his teeth, and got dressed, marginally more awake than before. That’s when he noticed that the red message light on the motel phone was lit. He followed the message retrieval instructions, heard a beep, then:

“I’m calling for Wes Stewart,” a male voice said. “Wes … em … it’s Lars … Lars Andersen. From high school? I just found out you were in town. Look, why don’t you give me a call when you get this. I was thinking maybe we could get together. Here’s my number.…”

Wes wrote it down, deleted the message, then stared at the piece of paper.

Lars Andersen.
Wow
. He hadn’t thought of him in years.

Wes looked at the clock on the nightstand. He still had twenty minutes before he had to meet the others.

What the hell?

He grabbed his cellphone and punched in Lars’s number.

“Lieutenant Commander Andersen,” a voice answered.

“Lars?”

A pause. “Wes?”

“You’re in the
Navy
?”

After growing up with him on and around the China Lake naval base, Wes thought Lars had been as anxious as he had been to do anything but join the service.

“You think I’d be back here if I weren’t?” Lars said with a laugh.

“Good point.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Wes said. “But surprised, I guess. How did you know I was here?”

“You haven’t seen the paper this morning?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s a front-page article about yesterday’s F-18 crash. It mentions you and your colleagues were nearby and witnessed it.”

“How did they get my name?”

“I don’t know, but if they hadn’t included you, I wouldn’t have known you were here.”

“Of course.” Wes paused. “So … uh … how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Busy. But that’s normal. Hey, listen. I can’t really talk too long right now, but why don’t we meet up for lunch? It would be great to see you again.”