Christmas Secrets. Barbara Dunlop

kind of plane?” Cole asked.

      “We’ve got work to do here,” said a large, rotund, fiftysomething man with gray hair and a bulbous nose.

      “Cole,” said Amber. “This is Max Cutter. He’s our interim president. This is Sidney Raines and Julius Fonteno, both vice presidents. You know Roth.”

      “What kind of plane?” Cole repeated. The size of the plane dictated the scale of the problem.

      Julius, the large man, frowned. “Shouldn’t you go change a diaper or something?”

      Cole braced his feet apart. “It’ll be faster if you just answer the question.”

      “Boonsome 300 over LAX,” said Sidney, the shorter, younger man, glancing up from the screen of his phone. “They’re reporting twenty minutes of fuel left.”

      Cole’s stomach sank. A Boonsome 300 was a passenger jet. There were up to two hundred souls on board.

      Max Cutter ended his own call. “The pilot’s leaving the holding pattern and bringing her in.”

      Cole looked to Amber. She was still and pale.

      “Are you a pilot?” he asked Sidney.

      “Yes.”

      “They’ve checked the pump circuit breakers?” Cole knew the answer would be yes. But he couldn’t help going through the diagnostics in his mind.

      Sidney gave a nod.

      “Any visible leaks?”

      “None,” said Sidney. “Foam’s down on the runway.”

      “They’ll cycle the gear again?”

      “They will.”

      Cole stepped closer to Amber, wishing he could reach out and take her hand. A belly landing in a plane that size was incredibly risky.

      “Gear’s down,” said Sidney, grasping the back of the sofa even as he uttered the words. “They cycled the gear one last time. They’ve got hydraulic pressure back.”

      Relief rushed through Cole.

      Amber dropped into an armchair, a slight tremor in her hands. “Thank goodness.”

      “They’re on short final,” said Sidney, putting his phone to his ear. “Tower’s patched me in.”

      They all waited, watching Sidney closely until he gave the thumbs-up. “Wheels down. It’s all good.”

      “Yes,” hissed Max.

      “Relief valve, do you think?” Cole posed the question to Sidney.

      “They’ll have to go through the whole system.”

      Roth spoke up. “Amber, get the communications director on the phone.”

      Cole bristled at Roth’s abrupt tone, but Amber moved to the landline.

      Roth continued talking. “We’ll call it a minor delay in the deployment of the landing gear. All safety procedures were followed, and it was an isolated incident.”

      Amber stopped, looking back over her shoulder. “An isolated incident?”

      “Yes.”

      “We know this how?”

      “Because we’ve been flying the Boonsomes for nearly ten years, and it’s never happened before.”

      “I don’t like the word isolated,” said Amber.

      Roth’s eyes narrowed.

      “I’d suggest replacing that clause with everyone on board is safe, and there were no injuries. Once we’ve confirmed that’s the case.”

      Roth squared his shoulders. “The whole point of a press release is to reassure the public—”

      “I agree with Amber,” said Max.

      “Of course you agree with Amber,” said Roth. “You’re her appointee.”

      “I agree with Amber, too,” said Sidney.

      Roth set his jaw.

      “I have to side with Roth on this,” said Julius. “The more reassurance we can give our passengers, the better.”

      “It’s early days,” said Cole. “Better to mitigate your words until the investigation is complete.”

      “Who let this guy in here?” asked Julius.

      “I’m an airline pilot,” said Cole. He might not be a Coast Airlines employee, but he knew the industry.

      “Bully for you,” said Julius.

      “It might be better if you excused us,” Roth said to Cole.

      Cole looked to Amber. He could go or he could stay, but he was taking his cue from her, not from Roth.

      “What about the other Boonsome 300s in service?” asked Max. He was scrolling through the screen on his phone. “Here. Midpoint Airlines just grounded theirs.”

      “That was fast,” said Sidney.

      “Kneejerk,” said Julius. “It’s not like there’s a pattern.”

      “They’ve got a total of three Boonsomes,” said Roth. “It’s an easy decision for them to make.”

      “It puts pressure on us,” said Sidney.

      “We’re not caving to pressure,” said Roth. “We’ve got twenty-four Boonsomes. It’s a quarter of our fleet.”

      Amber’s hand was resting on the telephone. “We could have lost two hundred passengers.”

      “We didn’t,” said Julius.

      “We’re not considering this,” said Roth with finality. “Unless the federal regulator orders us, we are not grounding twenty-four airplanes.”

      “It’s a publicity grab from Midpoint,” said Julius.

      Cole couldn’t help jumping in. “Depending on the problem.”

      “We’ll find the problem,” said Roth. “And we’ll fix it. Nobody’s suggesting we send that particular plane up again without a thorough overhaul.”

      “And if something happens with another Boonsome?” asked Sidney.

      “Nothing’s going to happen,” said Roth.

      “You’re playing the odds,” said Amber.

      “I play the odds every time I get out of bed,” said Roth. “You want one hundred percent certainty? We lose a million dollars a day with those planes on the ground. That’s a certainty. It’ll take two weeks minimum to get any answers on an investigation. Anybody want to do the math?”

      Max looked to Amber. “What are your thoughts?”

      “That’s a lot of money,” she said. “But it’s a lot of lives to risk, too.” Her gaze moved to Cole.

      Julius gestured to Amber, disdain in his tone. “This is our leader?”

      “She’s looking for input,” said Max. “I’m looking for input, too.”

      Roth’s face twisted into a sneer. “My input is don’t bankrupt the company while you’re temporarily in charge.”

      Cole clamped his jaw to stop himself from speaking.

      “The plane is at the gate,” said Sidney. “And the terminal is full of reporters.”

      “We have to put out a statement,” said Roth.

      “We have to make a decision,” Amber told him.

      “We don’t have a choice,” said