A Matter of Trust

5 - Meeting Chester

They exited the cab in front of the international terminal and Arnold was about to say goodbye when Gretta paid the driver and sent him on his way.

"Hey, I was going to take him back home."

"I'll give you money for the ride back." she laughed lightly. "Just until I board, please?"

He sighed and shrugged, picking up her uncommonly heavy bag and following her inside, which turned out to be the best part so far. Watching Gretta from behind as she strode across the concourse seemed to give him the strength of ten men.

Even in loose slacks her figure could not be disguised. She stopped and read the flight information monitor and slapped a hand against her thigh.

"It's been delayed twenty minutes."

"Great."

"Let's have a coffee? I'll pay, Arny."

"Yes, yes. And you don't have to keep paying."

"Thanks. You go find a table and I'll check in."

He dragged the bag over to the airport coffee shop and found a small table by a post just inside the snack bar.

Gretta arrived just as he got settled, her cheeks flushed and an embarrassed look on her face. She held up her ticket information and began another of her explanations.

"What kind of flight is this? Jesus, Gretta, I really am sorry I agreed to this you know. My apartment gets wrecked, I'm dragged out here for company and now I have to trek all over the damn place because you have some kind of special requirements."

"Arny I'm truly sorry about all this. I never would have asked you for help except you're the only person in our office who seems to regard me as more than just an object." She tilted her head and drilled him with the eyes. He felt his neck redden and prayed it would stay below his collar.

"Fine, let's go." He said, swallowing his image of her as object. "Where is this gate anyway?"

"We go downstairs and out to the tarmac." She turned and started through the concourse before he could object.

Out on the tarmac? What the hell is going on? An uncomfortable feeling settled on his brain as the events came tumbling back. She came back to say good bye? She was afraid to come to the airport alone? That didn't jibe with the finger breaker persona. And now her flight is waiting for her on the tarmac!

Arnold followed as fast as he could, dragging the huge bag and tripping over his concerns.

Gretta found an attendant and after a brief discussion, she waved to the lagging Arnold and followed the uniformed man through a door marked private and down a narrow hallway. At the end of the hall the man held the door as they passed through and then steered them toward a small, sleek looking jet standing just inside the hangar doors.

Arnold followed dutifully, gaping at the plane and then at the short, older man that sped toward Gretta with a giant smile and open arms. He stopped while they embraced and exchanged words then moved forward at her wave and dragged the bag to a halt.

"Arny, this is Professor Chester Stilton, my ex teacher and mentor." She introduced Arnold and the two men shook firm hands.

"I'm not sure I understand what the- what's going on."

"Come on board for a few minutes, we can have a coffee and Gretta can explain everything." The Professor jogged off toward the plane and the attendant relieved Arnold of the bag, so he walked with Gretta to the steps and boarded the fancy jet.

The interior was nothing like Arnold had ever seen outside of movies. Instead of the expected rows of seats, there was a very comfortable, state of the art lounge with upholstered seats and side tables, individual computer screens and telephones and on the windows, tiny colourful curtains, which Arnold thought an odd touch.

At the rear of the lounge was a door, open to expose a galley and obviously some other quarters beyond. Arnold took a seat next to Gretta and busied himself feeling the material and appreciating the accessories.

"This is quite something," he admitted, gazing around.

"It belongs to the Professor's associates, he uses it for his expeditions."

"Expeditions?"

"Professor Stilton is an archaeologist like my uncle was, they used to work together."

He sat back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "Gretta, I just don't get this. This is not a spur of the moment departure. You had this all arranged." He began to feel uncomfortable again.

"Would you like some coffee Mister Wainright?" The professor appeared in front of them bearing a tray and beaming pleasantly. He hesitated long enough for Arny to surrender and accept a cup.

"I never intended for you to become so involved, you must believe that." He waited, trapped in the perfect features of her face. "When I asked you to hold the statue for me, I thought that would be it. I would lose Vincent, get the statue back and be on my way."

She paused to tell the professor about what had happened with Vincent and Arnold's apartment. "Now, I'm concerned that you might be in danger from Vincent whether I'm here or not."

"It is a distinct possibility," the professor added unpleasantly.

Arnold squeezed his mug and bit his lip, thinking. "Listen, this guy Vincent, and his boss, Gravestone, they know you're headed for Mexico so what difference would it make if I called the cops about my place? It might even get them off your backs."

"You don't know who either of them are, where they are or what they look like, and if the police get curious, they might even contact the authorities in Mexico. I told you before the police are not an option." She placed her hand on the back of his and he felt a warm shock travel the length of his arm.

"So what do you suggest? I'm not going to hide from this Vincent for the rest of my life."

"Come with us." The statement was flat, short and startling.

"What?" Come with you? To Mexico?"

"Yes."

"Gretta, I have a job to go to. I have responsibilities to tend to, I can't just up and fly away . . ." He snorted and shook his head in disbelief. "Do you know I just helped close one of the biggest deals in the history of C&G? This is nuts."

"We have our runway clearance, dear," the professor spoke solemnly to Gretta. "Better make a decision soon be-." His cell phone buzzed, interrupting his remark and when he listened they saw his colour fade.

"What's wrong, Cheesy?"

Cheesy? Arnold looked at Gretta and back to the professor. "It's our attendant, he says Vincent is on his way to the hangar.

"How did he follow us here?" Gretta twisted in her seat and peered out the window.

"It doesn't matter, we have to leave now." He looked at Arnold who looked at Gretta who flicked her head with a 'that's life' shrug.

"Oh no. Wait a minute." Arnold started to rise but fell back in his seat, spilling his coffee as the plane jerked forward. "Stop this, Gretta! I can't go! You can't- you can't . . ." The plane gathered speed and taxied out onto the tarmac, turning sharply as the pilot conversed with the tower. Arnold slapped at the hot mess in his lap and gaped around in a panic; he couldn't go! He couldn't! The plane was gaining speed! He was going!

"Look!" The professor pointed out the window toward the hangar where a huge lumbering man was slowing to a halt outside the doors, a white, bandaged hand raised angrily to the sky.

"That was Vincent," Gretta remarked calmly, giving Arnold a sympathetic look.

The plane lifted from the ground and banked sharply shifting the remnants of Arnold's thoughts around in his head like thin soup.

He clutched his head and groaned aloud, cursing into the palms of his hands and shuddering at the consequences he would suffer from this misadventure.