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  “We did, didn’t we?” Lars said with a laugh. “But there’s this little thing called tuition. My parents couldn’t spring for it, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to work my way through school.”

  “So you joined the Navy because you were lazy?”

  “Ha. Ha. You would think that, wouldn’t you? No, not lazy. Not that can be proven, anyway. The summer after you … left, my brother got me out onto Armitage Field. I got to actually sit in some of the aircraft. That was enough to hook me. Of course, then I thought I’d be flying.”

  “So if you’re not flying, what do they have you doing?”

  “Operations. Mission planning, that kind of thing. For some reason the Navy got the idea that I’m smart.”

  “That makes me have so much more confidence in them,” Wes joked.

  When Wes was washing down his last bite with some water, Lars said, “So, yesterday. That must have been pretty intense.”

  Wes swallowed, then nodded. “I swear, Lars, I thought he was going to hit us. But then the plane veered off at the last moment. That guy saved our lives.”

  Lars stared at his food for a second, then blinked and looked at Wes. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said he saved our lives.”

  “You think he saw you?”

  “I don’t see any other explanation.”

  “That wasn’t in the paper.”

  “I never talked to anyone from the paper. Only one of your guys, Commander Forman. You know him?”

  Lars nodded. “He’s in charge of VX-53. They’re the Flying Hammers. Air test and evaluation squadron. There are three different ones that fly out of the base.”

  “The pilot who was killed yesterday, was he part of the Flying Hammers?”

  Lars nodded, his eyes drifting off for a moment. “Lieutenant Adair, a new transfer.”

  “You knew him?” Wes asked.

  “Hadn’t met him yet.”

  Wes leaned back. “Today must not be a very good day at the office.”

  “Truthfully, that’s why I wanted to have lunch with you. I knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant, and having a prearranged getaway seemed like a good idea. I did really want to see you, too.”

  “Nice save,” Wes said, but could only imagine what was going through the minds of Adair’s colleagues. “I’ll bet the article in the paper today didn’t help.”

  Lars cocked his head. “I’m sorry?”

  “The picture?”

  Lars scrunched his eyes together.

  “They ran the wrong picture,” Wes said as if it should have been obvious.

  “Which picture?”

  “The picture in the paper?”

  When Lars still didn’t look like he understood, Wes did a quick glance around and spotted a newspaper rack on the sidewalk right outside the restaurant. “Be right back.”

  A few moments later he returned with a copy of the paper and laid it on the table. He pointed at the photo. “That one. Whoever this guy is, he probably doesn’t think it’s funny they’re saying he’s dead.”

  Lars looked at Wes, his brow even more furrowed than before. “Okay. You’ve completely lost me. What are you talking about?”

  Wes wondered if he was suddenly speaking a foreign language. “That’s not Lieutenant Adair.”

  “Of course it is,” Lars said. “It’s the same picture that’s in the initial incident report.”

  Wes stared at his friend for half a second. “No. You must be mistaken.”

  “No mistake. I read the report this morning. That’s the picture in the file. What’s the problem?”

  Wes felt the skin on his arms tighten. “You’re saying this was the man who was supposed to be flying the plane yesterday?”

  “What do you mean ‘supposed to be’?”

  Wes leaned toward Lars. “What I mean is this wasn’t the man I found sitting in the cockpit.”

  “THAT’S NOT FUNNY.”

  “I’m not being funny, Lars. I’m serious. This isn’t the same guy.”

  Lars looked down at the paper. After a moment he said, “You’re the one who must have made the mistake. It’s easy to misidentify someone, especially from a distance.”

  “What do you know about the crash besides what was in the newspaper?” Wes asked.

  Lars hesitated. “Just what was in the preliminary report. But there wasn’t much.”

  “Did it say anything about me?”

  “You?”

  “My involvement.”

  “Just that you were first on scene. But there was a fire and you couldn’t do anything.”

  So it wasn’t just the newspaper that had let Lars know Wes was in town, but Wes let that pass for now.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  Wes frowned. “Lars, I didn’t see him from a distance. I got right up next to him. He talked to me.”

  “He talked to you? He was alive?”

  Wes nodded. “When I got there, he was slumped down, unconscious. But I was able to bring him around.”

  Lars looked down at the table, then back at Wes. “Then what?”

  “Then I tried to get him out, but he was stuck. I left to grab a knife, only before I could get back, the cockpit caught on fire. None of this was in the report you saw?”

  Lars shook his head slightly. “No.”

  “Well, it should have been, because this guy here,” Wes said, raising the article a few inches off the table, “isn’t the guy I saw.”

  Neither of them said anything for several seconds.

  Finally Lars leaned back. “I’m impressed and, well, shocked, really, that you were able to do as much as you did. But bear with me for a second. Is it possible you might not be remembering correctly? After all, stressful situations can mess with your head and make you think you saw something other than what you actually did.”

  “That had nothing to do with it,” Wes insisted. Still, there was some truth in Lars’s words. He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the face of the man in the cockpit. But the one he saw still wasn’t Adair’s. “There must be someone unaccounted for. Some other pilot who’s missing. That’ll be the guy I saw.”

  “We don’t have anyone unaccounted for.”

  Wes’s phone beeped in his pocket. It was his alarm. He frowned. “I gotta get back.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Lars said.

  “Can you do me a favor and check it out?”

  “Check what out?”

  “This picture. The pilot. Just make sure there wasn’t a mistake. I saw the guy, Lars. It’ll help put my mind at ease.”

  Lars rose from his seat and shrugged. “I don’t know what you expect me to find, but okay. I’ll check.”

  They walked around to the parking lot off the alley that ran behind the restaurant. Lars stopped next to a generic-looking sedan that Wes immediately pegged as base issue.

  “Seriously? If terrorists ever knew the Navy made you drive around in that, they’d realize they’d already won.”

  Lars grimaced. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be driving BMWs.”

  “You overestimate me. Back home I drive a Prius.”

  “Tree hugger, huh?”

  “Only in my off hours.”

  Lars seemed to relax a little. Holding out his hand, he said, “It’s good to see you again.”

  Wes shook it. “You’ll let me know what you find out?”

  “Of course. But can I be honest with you?”

  “Sure.”

  Lars hesitated before he spoke. “I think chances are I’m not going to find anything wrong. So you might want to start assuming your mind’s playing tricks on you.”

  “You’re probably right.” Wes smiled. “I’m glad we got together.”

  “Me, too.” Lars opened the door of his sedan, then paused in the opening. “Welcome home.”

  LARS ANDERSEN HAD JUST DRIVEN THROUGH the gate of the China Lake naval base when his cellphone rang. He grabbed his Bluetooth headset off the cigarette lighter
and put it in his ear.

  “Lieutenant Commander Andersen.”

  “Lars, it’s Janice. Commander Knudsen just got here for our meeting. You’re almost back, right?”

  Lars checked his watch. The meeting with Knudsen was supposed to start in fifteen minutes. “Any way we can push it back an hour?”

  “He’s already in the conference room. Why? You can’t make it?”

  If Lars kept going on the road he was on, he’d be at his office in two minutes. Instead he turned left.

  “You’ll have to take it without me.”

  “He’s not going to be happy,” Janice said.

  “Make something up. You can fill me in later.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “No choice,” he said, then disconnected the call. Immediately he punched in a new number.

  “Commander Forman’s office, Seaman Litoff speaking.”

  “This is Lieutenant Commander Andersen. I need to see the commander now.”

  “Sir, the commander isn’t here at the moment.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not authorized to give you that information.”

  “Well, Seaman, I suggest you call your boss and tell him I’m on the way to his office and he’s going to want to see me right away. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Understood. Can you tell me what this is regarding?”

  “No.”

  Lars disconnected the call.

  AS IT TURNED OUT, WES COULD HAVE STAYED longer at lunch.

  “Our afternoon schedule just got canceled,” Dione told the crew once everyone had regrouped at the motel.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Monroe said.

  “It’s the crash,” Dione explained.

  Wes frowned, confused. “I thought we weren’t going back out to the Pinnacles until Monday or Tuesday.”

  “I’m not talking about the Pinnacles. We had those Native American sites on the base this afternoon. But I just got a call from our Navy contact, who said because of the crash all unnecessary visitor passes have been revoked. That includes us.”

  “Well, that sucks,” Alison said.

  “Pool time,” Danny said, smiling. Everyone turned and stared at him. “What? You guys brought suits, right?”

  If they were going to have the afternoon off, Wes realized now might be the time to take care of that unfinished business, the errand his mother had asked him to do. He’d been dreading it, and had secretly hoped he’d be unable to make time to visit the storage facility. But he also knew it was something he had to do. Now was as good a time as—

  “Just because the schedule got screwed up doesn’t mean we can’t get anything done,” Dione said, looking directly at Danny. “We’ll get some B-roll.”

  While Wes felt a sense of reprieve, Danny suddenly looked like a kid who’d been told the trip to Disneyland he was about to take was really heading for the city dump.

  “All afternoon?” he asked.

  “As long as it takes.”

  B-roll shots were usually taken on the go as a crew was shooting other things. The name was a holdover from the days when everything was shot on rolls of film. The A-roll, though few, if any, called it that, was the scripted shots, while B-roll was random shots taken as they came up.

  “Danny, you and I will take the Highlander, and Wes, you can take the Escape,” she said. “I’m looking for beautiful desert images. Anything you think will be interesting.”

  “Why do I need the chaperone?” Danny asked.

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  “What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?” Monroe asked.

  “You’ve got the afternoon off,” Dione said, looking at Monroe, but meaning Alison and Anna, too. “You’re all free to do whatever you want. Tony, you can—”

  “You’re taking both cars,” Monroe cut her off.

  Dione pasted on her putting-up-with-the-talent smile. “You can rent a car for the day. We’ll pay for it.”

  “So I have to rent my own car now?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Tony said, jumping in.

  “Whatever,” Monroe said. “I’ll be in my room. Tell me when the car’s here. And not one of those crappy subcompacts.”

  As Monroe walked away, Dione mouthed “Thank you” to Tony.

  “She does know how to drive, right?” Alison asked, keeping her voice low.

  They all silently stared at one another.

  “I, um, assume so,” Dione said.

  “Has anyone actually seen her behind the wheel?” Alison asked.

  Shaking heads all around.

  Tony groaned. “Please tell me I don’t have to drive her around.”

  “Absolutely not,” Dione said. “She can drive herself if she wants to go anywhere, whether she knows how to or not. I want you to make a list of what we’re going to need tomorrow. We’ll be on the road most of the day, with no stores nearby that I know of, so you’ll have to get supplies tonight when we get back. When you’re done with the list, write up the production report for yesterday and today. I’ll take a look at them later.”

  Dione glanced at Danny and Wes. “All right, guys. Shall we hit it?”

  Danny retrieved his camera from the Escape and put it in the other SUV.

  “So you’re going to be all alone?” Anna asked Wes.

  “Looks that way,” Wes said.

  She glanced at Dione. “Mind if I join him?”

  An odd smile formed on Dione’s face. “Fine by me.” She opened the driver’s door of the Highlander, then asked Wes, “Which way are you going to head?”

  He shrugged. “Thought I could go north.” He pointed at the far end of the valley, where the hills met the Sierras. “Get some of the volcanic stuff.”

  “Great idea,” she said as she climbed in. “We’ll go east toward Death Valley.”

  “Death Valley?” Whatever else Danny added to his protest was rendered unintelligible as Dione pulled her door shut.

  “You want me to drive so you can shoot?” Anna said to Wes.

  “Maybe in a bit,” Wes replied.

  A few moments later they were on the road, air conditioner blasting.

  “I think Dione might know,” Wes threw out.

  “Know what?”

  “About us.”

  “Of course she does,” Anna said. “I told her.”

  “You told her?”

  “Dione’s one of my best friends.”

  “I thought we’d decided to keep things quiet for a while.”

  “Do you see me shouting about it to everyone?” Anna asked. “Besides, you told Casey.”

  “Casey’s my roommate. I didn’t have a choice if you were going to stay over.”

  “Well, you had a choice. You could have just not had me come over.”

  “That was not an option, either.”

  Anna turned so that her back was to the door and she could take a good, long look at him. “Anyone else you tell?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Maybe I am, but I want to know. I know you haven’t told Alison yet.”

  Wes shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He and Alison had hooked up for a short time a year earlier. Anna knew all this, of course. It was the worst-kept secret on the crew. And while he was okay remaining friends, it was obvious Alison was still open to the possibility of more.

  “She’ll find out soon enough.”

  Anna watched him for a moment, the hint of a smile on her face. “So who else?”

  He shook his head. “No one you’ve met.”

  “So there is someone else. Now I’m really intrigued.”

  Wes brought the Escape to a stop at the intersection of China Lake Boulevard and Inyokern Road. A turn to the right would take them to the front gate of the base, and a turn left would eventually take them to the highway. Wes turned left.

  “Who?” Anna asked again.

  Wes frowned. “Okay. My mom.”

  Silence.r />
  “You told your mom about me?” Anna’s tone was stunned.

  “Yeah, I told my mom about you. It’s not a big deal, okay?”

  “You told your mom.”

  “Look, she always asks me if I’m seeing anyone, and I’m always telling her no. Last time when she asked, it just kind of … slipped.”

  “How does something like that kind of slip?”

  “You don’t know my mom.”

  Wes was afraid to glance over at her, scared of what her reaction would be. Would she think he was some sort of thirty-three-year-old mamma’s boy, or maybe think it was too soon for him to say something to his mom, or, worst of all, realize that he was more serious about her than she was ever going to be about him?

  Finally, he couldn’t help himself and took a quick peek at her.

  She was still staring at him, but not in the get-me-out-of-this-car kind of way he’d almost been expecting. She was smiling.

  “What?” he asked.

  She swiveled around so she was facing front again, then she put her arm on the back of his seat and began softly stroking his neck.

  “I told my mom, too.”

  THEY ALL ENDED UP AT DELTA SIERRA’S AGAIN that evening. This time, to the surprise of everyone, Monroe joined them.

  “I’m still trying to figure out how the hell you ever lived here,” Danny said, already working on his third beer. “I’ve never seen so much dirt in my life.”

  “I’m not quite sure how they did it in your family, Danny, but in mine, where I lived was, strangely, determined by my parents.” Wes smirked.

  “I thought you were from San Diego,” Tony said.

  “He moved to San Diego when he was a junior in high school,” Alison informed everyone.

  “Why?” Danny asked. “Your dad get transferred?”

  “Divorce,” Wes said before Alison could show off more of her knowledge of his life.

  There were nods around the table, several in the knowing fashion of those who’d lived through the same thing.

  “Any family still here?” Tony asked.

  Wes shook his head but didn’t elaborate. His dad had stayed in Ridgecrest, but had died a year and a half after Wes had left town. The funeral had been held in Whittier, east of Los Angeles, where Wes’s dad had grown up and his uncle still lived.