Chapter 21: The Terminal

Anson's POV

I drove to Teterboro at ninety miles an hour with Dot in the passenger seat reading the clock out loud.

"Nine forty-one. Plane leaves at ten. It's twenty-two miles, and you're doing ninety, so we arrive with time to spare."

"Then we make it."

"Unless there's a toll booth, a cop, or a deer."

"There won't be a deer."

"There's always a deer, Anson."

My phone lit up on the dash with Abby's name.

I put her on speaker.

"I called the state attorney's office," she said. "Two investigators are on their way, but they're forty minutes out."

"We don't have forty minutes."

"I know. Stall him."

"How?"

"I don't know. You're the CEO of a freight company."

I looked at the road.

Then I took one hand off the wheel and called my head dispatcher.

He answered on the first ring.

"Sir. We saw it on the news. Everybody's crying down here."

"How many rigs do we have at the Teterboro yard?"

"Six. Why?"

"Put them across the service road to the private terminal. Every one. Park them nose to tail."

"Sir, that's trespassing."

"Then I'll pay the fine."

There was a short silence.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Sir, can I tell you? Nobody's quit. They all showed up this morning."

I closed my eyes for one second.

"Tell them thank you," I said, and hung up.

We came off the highway with the airport fences on our left and the terminal lights ahead.

Six Rotherham Logistics trucks sat nose to tail across the service road.

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