eyes. 'I hope I never do again.'
4
'What are you thinking?' asked Mary Perkins.
'I'm not thinking. I'm resting,' said Jane.
'Does resting mean you've already thought, and you have a plan? Because if it does, I'd sure like to know what it is.'
'No, it means I want you to be quiet.'
Jane closed her eyes again. The plane was flying over the Southwest now, toward the places where the desert people lived: Mohave, Yavapai, Zuni, Hopi, Apache, Navajo. Some of them believed that events didn't come into being one after another but existed all at once. They were simply revealed like the cards a dealer turned over in a blackjack game: they came off the deck one at a time, but they were all there together at the beginning of the game.
What Jane needed to do now was to find a way to reveal the cards in the wrong order: go away, then arrive. She reviewed all of the rituals that were followed when an airplane landed. The fact that they were known and predictable and unchanging meant that they already existed, even though the plane was still in the air. The flight was a short one, and she felt the plane begin to descend almost as soon as it had reached apogee. It was just a hop over the mountains, really, and then a long low glide onto the plateau beyond.
Jane reached into the pocket on the back of the seat in front of her and examined the monthly magazine the airline published. She leafed past the advertisements for hotels and resorts and the articles on money, cars, children, and pets. At the back she found the section she was looking for. There were little maps of all of the airports where the airline landed, so people could find their connecting gates. She studied the one for McCarran, then tore the back cover off, reached into the seat pocket in front of Mary, and tore that back cover off too.
'What are you doing?' asked Mary.
Jane pulled her pen out of her purse and began printing in bold capital letters. 'Here's what you have to do. When the plane lands, everybody is going to get off except you. You take as much time as you can. You're sick, or your contact lens fell out. I don't care what it is.'
'How long?'
'Try to stretch it out long enough to get at least one flight attendant to leave the plane first. It may not work, but I've seen it happen, and when it does, people watching for a passenger get confused.'
'Okay,' said Mary. 'Then what?'
'Then you come off the plane. Walk out fast, don't look to either side. Head for the car-rental desk. Rent a car. Make it a big one, not a compact. Something fat and luxurious and overpowered. They'll probably have lots of them in Las Vegas. Drive it around to the edge of the building where you can see the Southwest baggage area. When I come out the door, zoom up fast and get me.'
'What if something goes wrong?'
Jane was busy going over and over the printing on her two sheets, making the letters bigger and bolder. 'Here's what it will be. They'll follow you to the car desk. They'll stick around long enough to be sure what you're doing, and then they'll leave to try to get to the lot before you do. The lot will be the first time you're alone and away from airport security. They'll want to get into the car with you.'
'Then what do I do?'
Jane looked at her in disappointment. 'As soon as they're gone, cancel the car and go to the next desk, of course. Rent from a different company. They'll take you to a different lot.'
'Just let me get it straight. Stay on the plane, get off quick, rent a big car, pick you up at baggage.'
'Right.' She looked up at Mary critically. 'Come to think of it, even if you don't spot anybody behind you at the rental counter, cancel the car and go to the next desk anyway.'
'You don't think I'll see them, do you? That's it, isn't it?'
Jane stuck the two magazine covers into her belt under her coat at the small of her back. Then she leaned back and closed her eyes again. 'Bet your life on it if you want. Either way I'll come out of the baggage door and look for you. If you don't come, I can probably find a cab.'
When the pilot's voice came on the intercom and said something inaudible that contained the words
Mary was staring out the window like the others. 'God, I love this place,' she said. 'Are we going to be here long?'
'Not unless you're held over by popular demand,' said Jane, and closed her eyes again. She listened and let her body feel the machinery of the plane work. The ailerons moved to tilt and swing the plane around, and then the right one went down with the left and the plane leveled to skim over the desert. There was the odd whistling noise of the wind holding the plane back, and the engines cut down, and then the noise seemed to get louder for no reason she had ever understood, and then the hydraulic system pushed the wheels down until they locked with a thump, and there was the long sickening feeling of the plane losing altitude. She said, 'You okay on everything?'
'Yes,' said Mary.
Jane nodded. The best part of the plan was that if Mary Perkins, or whatever her real name was, panicked and ran, they would both have a pretty good chance. Mary Perkins would be behind the wheel of a big, fast car with a good head start. Most of the watchers would still be following Jane.
The plane bounced along the runway, slowed, and taxied to a stop at the terminal. Jane stood up and joined the line of impatient people opening overhead compartments and shuffling along between the seats. She stepped into the boarding tunnel and picked out a man a few paces ahead of her. He was tall and in his mid-forties and had the preoccupied, bored look of a salesman making his rounds.
She hurried until she was at his side, then matched his pace to make it look as though they were together. As soon as they were out of the tunnel and around the corner she separated herself from him and ducked into the gift shop. She took two steps past the entrance and found a baseball cap with las vegas on the crown in sequins and gold thread, and a sweatshirt with a picture of a hand holding five aces. She walked across to the other side wall and picked out a pair of running shorts. The little store didn't sell shoes, but it had some foldable slippers for people whose feet bothered them on long flights. The whole shopping spree took less than a minute, and then she was at the cash register.
She came out the door with her bag of purchases and slipped into the ladies' room. She changed in the stall, dropped her clothes into the trash can, picked up her magazine covers, and then came out again, this time to join the crowd going toward the arrival gates.
As she walked, she checked her watch. Only four minutes had passed since she had stepped off the plane and come out of Gate 10 with the salesman. This time she was in her shorts and sweatshirt, two and a half inches shorter than she had been in her high heels, her tinted glasses gone and her hair in a ponytail through the back strap of her Las Vegas baseball cap.
She moved to Gate 12, directly across the open hallway from Gate 10. The sign over the desk at Gate 12 said, arr: northwest flt 907 los angeles. She sat down in the side row of seats where other people were waiting for Flight 907 to arrive and put the sign she had made on her lap, where it could be seen if somebody were looking. It said in big, black letters, mary perkins.
She saw the two men notice her. They were in the positions they should be in - apart, but watching the people coming off the Southwest flight from Los Angeles at Gate 10. They both wore sportcoats that might have covered the guns they couldn't have on them now. They noticed Jane within a few seconds. They kept glancing across the hallway at her, but neither moved.
At last Jane saw two stewardesses come out of the tunnel at Gate 10 and walk past the two watchers. They were wearing their little uniform jackets and were towing their overnight bags on little carts. Jane's heart began to
