It was up to her to investigate how the accident really happened. She’d been put in charge of this one, her first real case. She couldn’t screw it up.
She adjusted her shoulder bag and looked up at the departures screen. Flight UA116 was departing on time. Of course it was. The one time she wouldn’t have minded a delay, the plane was actually on time. She betted that her luggage wouldn’t get lost either. That was the way air travel worked ; it favored the unconcerned.
She wandered to the Starbucks, feet shuffling and head down. She’d rather be with Alex this weekend. They’d planned to jog along the High Line in Chelsea and get lunch at Bubby’s. And yet, when she’d told Alex that she had to fly to Malaysia, he his face hadn’t registered surprise or even worry. In fact, if she’d read him correctly — and she was very good at this — he’d been relieved.
“Can I help you?” asked the dark-skinned woman at the counter.
“Grande misto please, with soy.”
The woman nodded and tapped the screen with her long, purple and silver-starred fingernail. Maggie handed her the company’s credit card.
“What’s this?” the woman said as she turned the card over. “You work for the F.A.A?”
“You’re not one of those air marshals, are you?”
Maggie laughed. “No. But I couldn’t really tell you if I was anyway.”
The woman smirked. Her lips were purple too. Maggie decided she was prettier that most fast food employees. She at least cared enough to put on make-up.
“So where are you going today?”