Out of the Shadows Read Online Free Page B

slipped off her shoulder and the strap snagged on a small hook that held the seat belt. She let go of the door’s frame to free the strap, but became unbalanced. Groping frantically for something to hold on to, she found nothing but air.
    A well-placed hand to her bottom caught Leslie. Ben held her weight easily with one hand as he loosened the strap of her bag with the other. Then he pushed her into the seat. He watched as she cleared the door before closing it firmly. Without comment, he turned and walked toward the back of the plane.
    Leslie felt her face turn scarlet. She couldn’t believe that for the second time in less than an hour, Ben’s quick response had kept her from falling flat on her rear. She clenched her teeth as she settled into her seat. In humiliation she realized that she could still feel the pressure of his hand.
    She took deep, calming breaths and studied her surroundings. The plane was compact. The front bucket seats were separated by only a few inches, and a dizzying array of dials, gauges, knobs, indicators, switches and buttons comprised the instrument panel.
    “Have you ever flown in a small plane before?” Mama Joe asked, leaning forward.
    Leslie turned awkwardly in the confined space to face the older woman and shook her head. “No, this is my first time.” She wondered again if she should mention Ben’s drinking.
    Her nervousness must have been evident, because Mama Joe patted her arm. “There’s no need to worry. Ben’s an excellent pilot. He was in the air force, you know. Besides,” she added cheerfully, “it’s much safer than driving.”
    Leslie wanted to answer that it wasn’t the flight she feared—it was the pilot’s level of sobriety. She managed to keep her concerns to herself and merely nodded in reply.
    Leslie watched Ben walk around the plane, examining the fuselage as he commenced his preflight inspection. At least he didn’t seem drunk. “Do you need to fly often in your practice, Mama Joe?”
    “Oh, every now and then. If a call is nearby and the distance can be traveled in a few hours, I’ll have Titus take me—he’s my driver. But for an emergency, or if it’ll be more than three hours by car, I’ll fly if I can.” She took a breath. “It seems like it goes in clusters. Sometimes I’ll stay near Namanga for weeks without being called away, and at other times I’ll fly to distant villages or to Nairobi several times in one week. There’s really no way to predict it.”
    “Does Ben always take you when you fly?” Leslie tried to keep her tone casual.
    “About half the time. He’s freelance, and for the most part he ferries supplies and equipment all over East Africa. Sometimes he flies tourists from one game park to another.” She leaned forward and added conspiratorially, “I don’t think he likes flying tourists, but it pays well.”
    “So, how much does he charge you?” Against her will, Leslie found herself watching him inspect the propeller. His shirt stretched across his wide chest as he reached up to run his hands along the length of the blade.
    Mama Joe smiled. “Oh, he doesn’t charge us. If we need him, and if he’s around, he’ll take us wherever we want to go for free.” She looked at Leslie and added, “But if he’s off somewhere, we call one of the guys from MASS—that’s Mission Aviation Support Services.”
    “Are they nearby?”
    “Andy Singleton works out of Mutomo, about seventy miles northwest of us. Ed Jones is in Tsavo, about fifty miles southeast. The problem is it takes at least an hour for them to get to Namanga. Ben is local. Also, if we use Andy or Ed, they won’t be available for others. Besides, we have to pay a small fee for their services—just enough to cover fuel and maintenance, but it adds up.” She frowned slightly. “Now that I think about it, I’m not really sure how Ben manages to work for free.”
    The conversation halted as the object of their discussion opened the pilot’s door and