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Authors: Veronica Vaughn
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it?”
Maurice didn’t reply. He just stood there
staring at Eli.
“You’re the one who tipped off the police when
we went to the lake house,” Eli said.
Maurice nodded solemnly. A car horn honked
outside. The taxi! It was still waiting in front of Maurice’s house.
“Where are you taking the money?” Eli asked.
“The airport,” Maurice said. “Your jet hasn’t
been seized yet, and your pilot is still on retainer for another month. He’s
making one last flight on the Rutherford family dime.”
“Where to?” I asked.
“Wherever I say. I am paying cash, after all.”
The taxi driver honked again. Eli looked around
the bedroom. “Six suitcases,” he said. “How much money is here?”
“A little over two billion,” Maurice said.
Eli grabbed two of the suitcases. “Take one,
Avery. We’re leaving.” He turned to Maurice. “You’re not going with us. I can
never trust you again after what you did. But, if what you say is true, then I
am sorry for the way my family treated yours. Take half the money. Consider us
even.”
Eli lifted his suitcases and made for the door.
“Come on, kid,” he said to me. “Driver’s waiting.”
Mine was too heavy, and Maurice had to help me.
“Thanks, Maurice,” Eli said, taking the bag from
him and placing it in the trunk. “And Maurice? If I see even one police officer
when I get to my airport hangar, I’m telling the cops where they can find a
billion dollars’ worth of stolen money. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “Thank you, Mr. Rutherford.
Y’all be safe.”
The men stared at each other for a second, and
to my surprise they hugged goodbye. Eli and I loaded into the taxi as the
irritable driver barked about the wait and the inconvenience and how he was
losing money every minute we delayed. A hundred dollar bill from Eli’s pocket
shut him up quick.
We enjoyed a quiet ride to the airport, taking
in the view of our hometown, assuming it was the last time we’d ever see the
place.
10.
When Eli and I walked into our private hangar,
the pilot’s jaw dropped. He was a tall, lanky man with a face covered in
freckles. A flat blue pilot’s cap was pulled over his curly red hair.
“Mr. Rutherford?” the pilot exclaimed. “But
Maurice—”
“Maurice gave us his ticket,” Eli grinned.
The pilot sprang to attention. “Yes sir, Mr.
Rutherford,” he said. “Here, let me help you with those bags.”
“Much appreciated, Henry,” he said. “Come on,
Avery. Let’s board.”
We trotted up the steps and entered the plane.
When I was younger I accompanied Eli on a few business trips, so the cabin was
familiar to me. Kind of a home away from home in the sky. As we made our way toward the front of the plane, we passed Eli’s desk followed
by the wet bar and a cluster of overstuffed couches and armchairs, as well as a
mammoth flatscreen TV. This part of the plane always
reminded me of the lounge area of a modern luxury hotel. The only difference
was that all the furniture was bolted down to keep it from sliding or bouncing
in turbulent skies.
It would be just dreadful if a burst of wind
happened to spill Eli’s gin fizz, after all. He couldn’t have that.
We passed the lounge area, then four rows of
first-class seats, and Eli ducked as he entered the cockpit. He sat in the
captain’s seat and started flipping switches and pushing buttons. Eli had his
pilot’s license, and he had a tendency to take control of situations. In fact,
it seemed he needed to be in charge always and with no exceptions. Even when a perfectly good professional pilot was on his payroll.
The jet engines roared to life.
I sat in the other pilot’s chair and stared down
the long runway. It was a small private airport for Shiloh’s elite, and it
seemed to be deserted. Beyond the airstrip and a field of tall yellow grass, I
could see the rooftops of homes all lined up in a row. With Eli as my man, I
would never know what it was like to have a normal little life
Maurice didn’t reply. He just stood there
staring at Eli.
“You’re the one who tipped off the police when
we went to the lake house,” Eli said.
Maurice nodded solemnly. A car horn honked
outside. The taxi! It was still waiting in front of Maurice’s house.
“Where are you taking the money?” Eli asked.
“The airport,” Maurice said. “Your jet hasn’t
been seized yet, and your pilot is still on retainer for another month. He’s
making one last flight on the Rutherford family dime.”
“Where to?” I asked.
“Wherever I say. I am paying cash, after all.”
The taxi driver honked again. Eli looked around
the bedroom. “Six suitcases,” he said. “How much money is here?”
“A little over two billion,” Maurice said.
Eli grabbed two of the suitcases. “Take one,
Avery. We’re leaving.” He turned to Maurice. “You’re not going with us. I can
never trust you again after what you did. But, if what you say is true, then I
am sorry for the way my family treated yours. Take half the money. Consider us
even.”
Eli lifted his suitcases and made for the door.
“Come on, kid,” he said to me. “Driver’s waiting.”
Mine was too heavy, and Maurice had to help me.
“Thanks, Maurice,” Eli said, taking the bag from
him and placing it in the trunk. “And Maurice? If I see even one police officer
when I get to my airport hangar, I’m telling the cops where they can find a
billion dollars’ worth of stolen money. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “Thank you, Mr. Rutherford.
Y’all be safe.”
The men stared at each other for a second, and
to my surprise they hugged goodbye. Eli and I loaded into the taxi as the
irritable driver barked about the wait and the inconvenience and how he was
losing money every minute we delayed. A hundred dollar bill from Eli’s pocket
shut him up quick.
We enjoyed a quiet ride to the airport, taking
in the view of our hometown, assuming it was the last time we’d ever see the
place.
10.
When Eli and I walked into our private hangar,
the pilot’s jaw dropped. He was a tall, lanky man with a face covered in
freckles. A flat blue pilot’s cap was pulled over his curly red hair.
“Mr. Rutherford?” the pilot exclaimed. “But
Maurice—”
“Maurice gave us his ticket,” Eli grinned.
The pilot sprang to attention. “Yes sir, Mr.
Rutherford,” he said. “Here, let me help you with those bags.”
“Much appreciated, Henry,” he said. “Come on,
Avery. Let’s board.”
We trotted up the steps and entered the plane.
When I was younger I accompanied Eli on a few business trips, so the cabin was
familiar to me. Kind of a home away from home in the sky. As we made our way toward the front of the plane, we passed Eli’s desk followed
by the wet bar and a cluster of overstuffed couches and armchairs, as well as a
mammoth flatscreen TV. This part of the plane always
reminded me of the lounge area of a modern luxury hotel. The only difference
was that all the furniture was bolted down to keep it from sliding or bouncing
in turbulent skies.
It would be just dreadful if a burst of wind
happened to spill Eli’s gin fizz, after all. He couldn’t have that.
We passed the lounge area, then four rows of
first-class seats, and Eli ducked as he entered the cockpit. He sat in the
captain’s seat and started flipping switches and pushing buttons. Eli had his
pilot’s license, and he had a tendency to take control of situations. In fact,
it seemed he needed to be in charge always and with no exceptions. Even when a perfectly good professional pilot was on his payroll.
The jet engines roared to life.
I sat in the other pilot’s chair and stared down
the long runway. It was a small private airport for Shiloh’s elite, and it
seemed to be deserted. Beyond the airstrip and a field of tall yellow grass, I
could see the rooftops of homes all lined up in a row. With Eli as my man, I
would never know what it was like to have a normal little life
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