Flight Plan

Siren screaming, red and blue lights flashing, the squad car with two policemen in the front seat roared into the Lawrencedale Community Airport, and squealed to a halt in front of the small terminal.

A tall black woman stood in front of the door. She wore a long-sleeved white blouse tucked into loose-fitting tan pinstriped pants, and low-heeled black pumps. Her coffee-colored hair was tied back in a tight, business-like bun.

In the car’s back seat, J.T. released her death-grip on the overhead safety handle. “This is really exciting,” she told Zoe. “I’ve never been in a police car before!”

“We’re going to get those bastards,” Zoe said grimly.

They got out of the car and joined the two uniformed officers and the woman.

“I’m Rebecca Spain, airport director,” she told them. “Tom Wilkins just called and said you needed some flight plan information on a civil jet that departed about an hour ago?”