Chapter Nine.
Santini Air Hangar,
Van Nuys, California,
Mid afternoon.
"I finished changing the oil on the Cayuse, Mr Santini. The MacDonald job," Jimmy Flynn grinned broadly as he addressed the owner of Santini Air, his boss, wiping his grease and oil stained hands on the corner of an equally grease and oil stained rag hanging from the pocket of his coverall. "She's a real beauty and running like a dream now!" the younger man chuckled happily.
Jimmy was a good kid, keen to learn and eager to impress Dominic Santini since he had gotten Stringfellow Hawke to put in a good word for him with the boss and talked him into giving him a small raise.
In truth, Dominic Santini had been happy to take Jimmy on part time, working around his engineering course at college, because the kid had been hanging around the hangar sticking his nose into engines and hanging off of his and String's every word so long he was part of the fixtures and fittings.
About five years ago Dominic Santini had placed a broom in the scrawny kid's hand and told him if he was going to be hanging around he should make himself useful and sweep the hangar while he was following them around and the next thing he knew, Jimmy was there bright and early every Saturday morning, broom in hand and eager to learn anything from mopping up the hangar and making the coffee to overhauling the engine from a majestic old Steerman.
Jimmy had proved to be a quick study, picking things up from just watching Hawke and Santini as they maintained the Santini Air fleet of choppers and the antique aircraft other pilots and collectors brought to them to overhaul or renovate and Dominic Santini had soon learned that whilst the youngster had not the slightest inclination to learn to fly one of the magnificent machines he so admired, he was enthralled by engines and learning about what made them work.
After he had turned up on time and full of enthusiasm every Saturday morning for a couple of months straight, Stringfellow Hawke had casually drawn the youngster into conversation and discovered that his father had recently died and his mother was struggling to keep the wolf from the door.
Jimmy had first come to the hangar in the hopes of getting work but had been enchanted both by the aircraft that filled the hangar and the two men who were both pilots and mechanics.
He had always liked watching his father tinkering with their car and after coming to the hangar for a few weeks he had soon realized that here was something that he enjoyed and could do well, and that might prove lucrative to him in the future.
The things he was learning at Hawke's and Santini's side were infinitely more important to him than the money he had hoped he might earn doing odd jobs around the hangar.
Naturally, after hearing that, Dominic Santini's guilt gene had kicked in and he had been pleased to slip a few dollars into the kids hand at the end of the day, because he was a nice kid, quiet and thoughtful and pleasant, and it was good to have another youngster around the place who was genuinely interested in learning.
Santini had known that he should have done it sooner, but he had been waiting to see how long the fad lasted, having learned that even the most enthusiastic kids lost interest when they realized that it was hard and dirty work and far from glamorous and definitely not what they had dreamed.
After just a few lessons, both Hawke and Santini had agreed that Jimmy was a natural born mechanic, and both had encouraged him to take an interest in basic maintenance.
Jimmy had lapped up the attention and proved to be a bright student and Dominic Santini had found himself thinking that it had been a terrific investment of both his time and his experience, benefiting both of them, and silently he had found the unadulterated hero worship flattering and boosted his ego no end.
Having Jimmy around had reminded him of bygone days when he had been a role model to two other eager young men, the orphaned Hawke brothers, trailing around after him, learning how to get along with each other while learning about the mysteries of the internal combustion engine, feeding their joy of aircraft and their obsession with flying, and learning how to make their way in the world and to be the kind of men that they could both be proud of.
When Jimmy had graduated High School and had chosen to take an engineering qualification, the first thing he did was reassure Dominic Santini that he wouldn't fall down on the job or let him down, and the kid had kept his word, always showing up on time and as eager to get on with things as he had always been.
When his vacation plans had fallen through, and he had decided that the last thing he really wanted was to stay home alone watching television, drinking beer and worrying over his best friend Harry Manning and his wife, Muriel, still clinging to life despite a second and much more serious stroke, that he needed something to take his mind off things, and work seemed to be just the ticket, the first thing Dominic Santini had done was call Jimmy to tell him that he would be at the hangar after all if he fancied dropping by for some overtime, and as expected, the kid had been so eager he had almost let out a whoop of joy on the other end of the line.
"Huh?" Santini glanced up from the piece of paper he was writing on, a frown tugging at his brow beneath his red silk baseball cap and watched as young Jimmy indicated over his shoulder with his thumb to the helicopter parked out in the sunlight on the strip of tarmac outside the Santini Air hangar.
"The oil job?" Jimmy reminded, still beaming.
"Oh yeah. Ok, kid. I'll check on it in a couple of minutes. Need to concentrate on making out this here invoice for Mr MacDonald. Wouldn't want to over charge him, or worse still, under charge him!" Santini chuckled although it was clear to Jimmy Flynn that there was something weighing on the older man's mind.
"You can make a start on closing the place down for the night. I know we're a couple of hours short of regular quitting time, but I'll pay you to the end of the day if that's ok with you?"
It was a little early, but Jimmy suspected that his boss had plans for the evening ahead, and he was never one to turn down an early mark, especially if he was going to get paid his usual rate.
"Sure thing, Mr S. You planning to stop by the hospital to visit with your friend and his wife?" the young man inquired casually.
"Yeah," Santini let out a sad little sigh and still frowning at the figures on the invoice before him, scratched absently at his forehead before looking back up to focus on Jimmy's face once more.
"It's not looking too good for her, kid, and he's in a bad way too."
"I'm sorry, Mr S. Been married a long time, huh?"
"Yeah, Jimmy, longer than you've been alive."
"You heard anything from String?" Jimmy asked watching Santini's expression change to one of sorrow and anxiety as he thought about his old friend's plight, wanting to take his mind off his sadness, if only briefly.
"Nah. Not expecting to. Far as he knows I'm swigging back beer with the guys somewhere in France right now," Santini sighed again, wistfully this time, as he thought about what he had been planning to do with his time this week before his schedule had been changed by circumstances beyond his control.
Santini found himself hoping that his young friend Stringfellow Hawke was having a pleasant and restful vacation and enjoying his visit with his old friend Charlie Roth.
"When's he due back?"
"When he gets tired of all that crystal clear air and mountain greenery I guess."
"You want some coffee before I make a start on tidying up?"
"No thanks, kid. My back teeth are already floating I've drunk so much of the stuff today. One more cup and I won't sleep for the rest of the month!"
"Ok. I'll go make a start on shutting the place down then."
"Yeah. You do that."
Dominic Santini continued filling in the figures on the invoice before him, pausing now and again to try to remember exactly what they had used to bring the old Hughes OH-6 Cayuse up to scratch, every part and man hour, as well as various local and Federal taxes and then when it was finally completed to his satisfaction, hitching his pants up around his ample waist, Santini strolled out of the hangar and into the late afternoon sunlight, making for the Cayuse parked on the tarmac.
She was a beautiful machine with pristine white livery, gold landing skids and the elaborate stylized MacDonald Oil Company logo of Texas style Lone Star intertwined with a golden capital Italic M and an oil rig emblazoned on the tail.
Dominic Santini spent several minutes reading the maintenance log and then double checking that Jimmy Flynn had completed each job satisfactorily, the oil change being the last job on the list, and that he had cleaned up properly after himself.
When he was satisfied that the work had been completed correctly Santini let the engine run for a few minutes, listening to the pitch and tone, noting every nuance, agreeing with Jimmy's assessment that she was running smoothly and then climbed into the cockpit to check the oil pressure and oil temperature gauges to make sure that all was well, then he shut off the engine, remaining in the cockpit until the main rotor began to slow down, and finally stopped, his thoughts again drifting to Muriel Manning lying there in her hospital bed.
He hated to say it, but she was more dead than alive now, the doctor having told her husband, his old friend Harry, that the last stroke had caused a lot of damage to the left side of her brain, affecting the speech center and causing paralysis in her right arm and leg and that it was uncertain if she would ever regain consciousness.
What the young man had left unsaid was the hardest thing to deal with. That it would probably be better all around if she didn't regain consciousness.
It was just a matter of time now, when, not if, she slipped away and Santini was dreading the moment for he suspected that Harry would simply give up on living too.
It wasn't fair.
They were still so young, both of them only months older than Santini him self and he knew that he was far from ready to turn up his toes and shuffle off. He wasn't a young man, but he was far from being a relic either. Santini had learned that age was a state of mind, and he had always had a youthful outlook. He was sure that was what kept him going. That, and having his young friends, Hawke and Caitlin around.
The old place just didn't seem the same without them today, although Jimmy had done his best to try to keep his mind off the more distressing thoughts about Muriel.
As he slid carefully out of the cockpit and secured the door behind him, Dominic Santini was surprised to see Jimmy Flynn on the other side of the hangar, talking to a woman.
She was tall and slender and clad in light weight pale blue pants and a baby blue short sleeved blouse. She wore a lavender sweater tied by the sleeves around her waist and the wind was tugging at her short fluffy blonde hair.
She had her back to Santini as the youth pointed her in his direction, and Santini found him self wondering what she wanted and slightly irritated because it would delay his departure for the hospital, until she turned around to face him and waved.
Dominic Santini recognized her face immediately and felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, a huge smile immediately splitting his face as he started to walk across the tarmac toward Megan Ravenson, meeting her half way.
"Hey Teach, howya doin'?" Santini greeted her warmly, reaching out with open arms to welcome her into his embrace. "Long time no see."
"Hello Dom," Meg responded to his welcome by giving him a hard squeeze, but then she withdrew from his embrace, and the fact that she did not respond with her usual witty repartee about him being an old crock gave Dominic Santini cause to pause and regard her with a more critical eye.
She was still an attractive woman. Way out of his league, but then there had never been anything remotely romantic between them. She was just an old friend.
A good friend, with a special gift that he admired a great deal.
Looking at her now, he could see that there was something troubling her. She looked tired, a little washed out and nervy, eyes darting around the hangar as though she were really looking for someone else, before coming back to settle on his face.
Her smile was still as stunning as ever, Santini found him self thinking when she looked back at him, and once more found himself thinking just how good it was to see her again.
Dominic Santini had always had something of a soft spot for Megan Ravenson. There was just something about her that had instantly made a lasting impression on him. She was smart and sassy and had a razor sharp wit, and a quiet, unassuming manner about her, but there was a vulnerability there too, a lack of confidence in her self and her gift that had touched Dominic Santini.
Several years before, they had both worked a particularly nasty case with the police. Santini had been bought in because of the difficult terrain involved in the search for a missing child, and Megan Ravenson, because she had the rare gift of insight and had proved helpful to the police in the past.
Dominic Santini had never had a strong opinion about the so called psychic or sixth sense, either way. He did not dismiss it completely out of hand. He had lived too long and as a pilot for so many years had seen too many things that could not simply be explained away by science or common sense. However, he wasn't an absolute believer either.
He was prepared to be open minded until something swayed him one way or the other.
Throughout the search for the child, a girl of two who had somehow been taken from a neighbors house, left there while her famous actress mother had taken her new born son to her doctor for a routine check up, Dominic Santini had played his part, glorified chauffeur really, ferrying the police top brass around, chasing up every clue, which seemed to center the hunt for the missing child around the rugged terrain close to her home in Topanga State Park and Malibu, and he had continued to keep an open mind when Megan had been bought in to the equation, watching the obvious anxiety and distress the visions that came to her suddenly, and sometimes violently, and which consumed her, had had on her emotional state.
It was distressing for everyone, but the things that Megan had seen and felt often reduced her to tears when she had thought that she was alone and not being observed, and Dominic had found his heart going out to her, realizing that no-one else seemed to care how the business was affecting Megan, emotionally or physically.
She had been so eager to help, to make a difference, and had been under a great deal of pressure from all sides to come up with the goods, the terrible weight of expectation from the equally angry and distressed parents, the scorn, derision and unreasonable demands of the police officers overseeing the case, and of course, the pressure she put herself under to perform to the best of her ability and help the police get a break in the case.
Dominic had decided to take the young woman under his wing, bringing her coffee and encouraging her to unburden herself on his considerable shoulders and they had become quite close.
Megan had been grateful, relieved to find someone who did not want something from her and did not seem to be judging her, instead, he was willing to listen and to try to understand and encouraged her to try to explain how she did what she did and how it worked, and sometimes, why it didn't.
When Megan had eventually come up with something that blew the case wide open, there had been renewed hope, a frenzy of activity, and Dominic Santini had watched the people who had been openly hostile and scornful toward Megan, poking fun and making sarcastic and unsavory jokes, suddenly change their tune.
However, the joy had been short lived for the child had been discovered dead, buried in a shallow grave in a remote part of the search area, exactly where Megan had said she would be, and it became clear that the child had died within hours of being taken from the neighbor's house.
A later post mortem had revealed that whoever had taken the child had drugged her with sleeping pills, and had probably accidently given her too much, and that when they discovered the child was dead they had simply buried her and got the hell out of Dodge.
Megan had given the police a description of the man and woman she had seen in her visions, but when nothing came of the information and no-one was ever caught for the crime of kidnap and murder, everyone involved in the case had turned their scorn and hostility back on Megan Ravenson, everyone except Dominic Santini that was.
Disgusted with the way everyone had turned on Meg, Dominic had felt compelled to stand up for her, and to reassure her that she had done everything that she could, and that they would probably never have found the child and learned the truth of what had happened to her if it hadn't been for her, and from that moment on, Megan Ravenson had realized that she had a true friend and ally in the big, jovial, ebullient Italian, Dominic Santini, and they had remained close ever since.
It had been Dominic who had persuaded his young friend, Stringfellow Hawke, to seek Megan's assistance several months back when their mutual friend, the government agent code named Archangel, had gone missing and his own people had been on the verge of terminating him because they feared that under intensive torture, he might have revealed top secret information to the other side.
Stringfellow Hawke had made the whole ordeal a darn sight harder on all of them than it had needed to be, with his open hostility, cynicism and scorn. Dominic had not known what to make of String's reaction to Megan and he hadn't been very proud of his behavior during the couple of days they had had Megan helping them.
Meg had proved to be just as tough and determined as Hawke, and she had stood her ground, letting the younger man know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going to put up with his sneering and his abrasive and negative attitude, making him aware that he was hindering her ability to get a clear sense of what had happened to Michael Coldsmith Briggs III and where he had been taken, and that his open hostility aside from not being very attractive, was actually clouding the very psychic emanations and energy that she needed to draw on to give him the help that he had come to her for.
Santini had silently shown his young friend his disapproval at the uncharacteristic way he was acting, and had secretly applauded Megan for taking the bull by the horns and letting his young friend know that his behavior was not acceptable. He suspected that Hawke hadn't appreciated that very much, but after her outburst, something she had said to him had obviously had some affect and he had kept his more negative thoughts about her authenticity to himself.
Dominic's unshakeable faith in Megan's ability was rewarded when she had come good. Archangel had been found, just in the nick of time, safe and sound, and Megan had left Hawke with a parting shot that would give him food for thought.
Since then, Hawke had mentioned Megan Ravenson only once, letting slip that he had seen her for a drink and to apologize again for his behavior, and that they had reached a truce of sorts.
Santini had been impressed, and he recalled now, that at the time he had found himself thinking that Megan Ravenson must really have gotten through to his young friend, but despite his innate curiosity to know what Megan had told him, Santini had wisely kept his mouth shut, hoping that sooner or later Hawke would spill the beans.
He was still waiting.
Oh well, that was just how it was some times with his young friend, and Dominic Santini had had to learn to accept that there were just some things that Hawke preferred to keep to himself.
As he regarded her now, Santini could not help feeling that Megan was more than a little preoccupied, her gaze again drifting back toward the hangar as that dazzling smile faded from her lips, and for some inexplicable reason, Dominic felt his heart grow cold and heavy in his chest.
Uh oh …..
"You lose some thing? Or some one?" he smiled gently, reaching out to cup Megan's elbow and guided her back toward the hangar, hiding his disappointment as he started to get the impression that it wasn't really him that she was here to see after all.
However just at that moment another aircraft further down the strip started up its engine, drowning out any reply that Megan might have made, and so they continued to walk toward the hangar in silence.
"Ok, Teach, spill the beans," Santini invited once he had guided her through the hangar and out into the relative peace and quiet of the back office. The telephone was ringing off the hook as they entered, but Santini deliberately ignored it.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" Meg asked as she seated herself on the other side of the desk. "It could be important," she pointed out softly.
"What I see written all over your face is more important, Meg, so spill. I get the feeling you ain't really here to see old Dom, so tell me why you suddenly had to make the trip over here."
"I'm sorry, Dom. It's good to see you," Megan smiled softly now, realizing that she must be telegraphing her fears to Santini with her guarded behavior, and suddenly found herself wondering if he didn't have something of a gift himself.
Perhaps not a psychic gift, but an even more precious talent. The ability to read people.
"Good to see you too, Meg, you know it always is, now, spit it out will ya!"
"I was hoping to see String. Is he around?" she asked, rather too casually for Dominic Santini's liking and suddenly alarm bells were going off in the back of his head.
"He's away."
"Away? Where?"
"Washington."
"DC?"
"Nah, Washington State, visiting some old Army buddy of his way out in the wilderness."
"Oh," he noted the disappointment in her tone now.
"I can take a message," he offered. "Unless of course it's private? Personal?"
"Aren't you going to offer me a cup of coffee?"
"Coffee can wait!" Santini erupted then winced as he saw Megan flinch slightly.
"Hey, easy Tiger! Please, Dom, calm down. Why don't you make us both a drink and then I will say what I came here to say," Meg placated.
"Why don't you just say it?"
"Because I'd rather not have to go over it twice," Megan sighed. "She should be here in about half an hour. Plenty of time to get the coffee ready."
"She?" Santini arched an eyebrow quizzically.
"The girl who works here. The redhead," Meg fished for a name to put to the face she remembered from her last nocturnal trip to Santini Air, knowing that she should remember it and silently cursing her poor memory, while Santini silently regarded her with cold rheumy brown eyes now.
"Cait?" he finally supplied for her.
"Cait," Megan echoed.
"She's in Texas. Visiting with her folks, and she thinks that I'm on vacation in Europe for crying out loud!"
"Not any more, Dom," Megan's gaze drifted to the telephone, now sitting silently on the desk between them, and Santini's eyes widened just a little. "I figure by the time you and that young man out there get this place battened down for the night, and get the coffee good and hot, Cait will be here. Takes about half an hour to get a cab and drive from LAX to here, right? Maybe a little more this time of day, allowing for traffic, right?"
"Right," Santini spoke in a vague tone of voice, his expression hard and demanding, his rheumy eyes never leaving Megan Ravenson's face.
"Meg?" his voice trailed away, but there was a definite question in his eyes now which Megan could not fail to respond to.
"Look Dom, I came here thinking that I needed to see String, but now that I see he isn't here, I think perhaps what I have to say is more about him, than for him," Meg explained realizing that Dominic was already beginning to fear the worst.
"And what makes you think Cait is coming here? She only left …."
"She loves him, Dom," Meg cut Santini off, her tone strong and certain. "And she's stubborn and head strong and to her this is the most logical place to start. This is like home to her, Dom, and to Hawke too, this is always going to be one of the first places she will come looking for him."
Dominic Santini found himself nodding in agreement, recalling that after the spot of trouble they had had in Pope County, Texas, when Hawke and Caitlin O'Shannessy had first met, it had been here that she had come looking for him to tell him that she had bought back the body of his friend.
All that she had known about him was that he was a pilot with a most unusual name, and for a smart gal like Cait, that had made him easy to track down.
"And she feels it too."
"What? Feels what Meg?"
"That something isn't right, Dom."
"Something? What!" he roared then threw Megan an apologetic look, knowing that snarling at her wasn't going to get him anywhere.
"I don't know, Dom, but I promise I will tell you what I do know when Cait gets here. Be patient, please Dom."
"Is he …."
Again Santini's voice trailed away, unable to make himself voice the question.
"Is he dead?" Meg queried, not needing to be psychic to know what was going on in his head and voicing the question for him.
Santini nodded gently.
"No, Dom. I don't think so," she told him with all the sincerity she could muster now, knowing just how deeply he cared for the younger man and what news that he could be dead would do to Dominic Santini.
It was the truth.
Not once had she got the sense that Stringfellow Hawke was gone from this world, nothing that she had seen in her dream or her earlier vision had given her the impression that he was reaching out to her from the other side of life.
Not once had she had got that most distinct and unmistakable, yet indescribable feeling that she associated with death.
No.
She was sure in her heart that Hawke was still alive, for now at least.
"I swear to you Dominic, and you know that I would never lie to you because I know just how much you love Hawke, I don't have any sense that he is dead," she smiled reassuringly at Santini, wanting him to trust her and believe that she was not misleading him. "If he were gone, Dom, I would tell you."
"Yeah, Teach, I know you would," Santini let out a deep, ragged sigh and leaned heavily against the back of the chair on the other side of the desk for a moment, his expression revealing to Megan Ravenson that he did indeed believe her.
"And now that I know that he ain't dead, I can wait until Caitlin gets here to hear the rest."
"Good, I take mine black, no sugar," Meg allowed herself to relax back in her seat now and watched Dominic Santini's dear features scrunch up in a frown. "Coffee?" she reminded gently.
"Oh, yeah. Ok. Be back in a minute."
"Dom …."
There was genuine concern in her voice now. She suspected that his mind was presenting him with all kinds of horrific scenarios, all the dreadful things that could have befallen his young friend, and wished that she could give him some reassurance that all was well.
However they both knew that if that were the case, she would not be here right now.
"I'm ok, Meg," Santini assured, blessing her with a weak smile of gratitude for her concern now. "I'll just go make sure Jimmy has everything under control."
0-0-0-0
"Right on time!" Dominic Santini greeted a breathless Caitlin O'Shannessy as she rushed into the Santini Air hangar and dropping her bag on the oil stained floor rushed toward him, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a firm hug.
"Oh Dom, I'm so glad to see you!"
Santini had heard the yellow taxi cab pull up on the tarmac outside just as he had poured out the third cup of fresh coffee and glancing quickly down at his wrist watch, again found him self marveling that Megan Ravenson could be so accurate in her prediction.
Santini welcomed Caitlin into his arms, sensing her genuine anxiety and distress and was deeply touched by the warmth of her greeting and the crack of emotion in her voice.
"What? Huh?" Caitlin frowned as she finally pulled away from Santini and regarded him with questioning blue/grey eyes.
"Hi Cait, drink your coffee," Santini smiled warmly, holding out a mug of steaming aromatic black coffee to the new arrival as she stepped away from him and stared back at him in open mouthed astonishment. "I made it specially."
"What? You make it sound like you knew I was coming, and by the way, if you ever answered the darn phone you would have known," Cait grumbled, her voice trailing away as she noted the amused and enigmatic look on Santini's familiar face.
"I did know," Santini told her matter of factly, placing his mug of coffee onto a metal tray beside the mug he had poured out for Megan Ravenson.
"What are you doing here? I thought …. Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing here?" Caitlin finally took the mug from him, wincing as the heat burned her fingers and she swapped it to the other hand so she could hold it by the handle, then realized what Santini had actually said.
"You did know? How? Never mind. Dom, I'm really worried. I think something bad has happened to String."
"You too, huh?"
"You mean you …."
"No, honey. Not me. Megan Ravenson is in the office."
"Meg? Oh. What did she say?"
"Nothing yet, honey. Bring your coffee through to the office, I'll answer your questions and we can hear what Meg has to say together."
"Dom."
"Yeah, Cait?"
"I'm glad you're ok. I was worried about you too. I thought maybe you and Hawke got one of those calls and something real bad had happened."
"Well, as you can see, I'm all in one piece, but thanks anyway kid."
0-0-0-0
In the back office of Santini Air, Dominic Santini handed Megan Ravenson her mug of coffee and made himself comfortable in the chair on the other side of the desk, while Caitlin O'Shannessy silently followed him and carrying her mug of untouched coffee positioned herself behind and slightly to the right of Santini, her eyes questioning Megan Ravenson, as the two women sized each other up and nodded to each other in silent acknowledgement.
As they had made their way through the hangar to the office, Dominic Santini had explained to Caitlin about Muriel Manning's stroke and that his friend Morris Robertson had broken his ankle, and that faced with the choice of staying home and brooding, or going to the hangar and burying himself in things familiar and comforting, and things that would occupy his mind, he had chosen good old fashioned work and the place where he could feel just that bit closer to his nearest and dearest whilst he pondered on the injustices of life and the fickleness of Fate.
Caitlin had listened patiently, holding the door open for him to pass through with the loaded tray, making all the right sympathetic noises in all the right places as she followed him through the open doorway, and had then opened her mouth to try to explain to him what had made her come rushing back, in response to his questioning look, only to find for one of the few times in her life, words eluded her.
Instead, she had squinted away the tears that were suddenly pricking at the corners of her eyes, swallowed down the lump that was suddenly blocking her throat and offered Dominic Santini a sad little half smile as she raised one shoulder in a half hearted shrug.
Dominic Santini had simply nodded in understanding, and he did understand, for he could clearly see the fear and anxiety in her eyes and knew that even though she could not explain it, something had scared her so badly she had had to come back and check it out for herself.
In his youth, more than once he silently conceded, Dominic Santini too had acted on inexplicable impulses, his internal radar or barometer, 'gut feelings' String called them and sometimes experienced for himself too, and more than once, acting on that instinct had saved his life.
Who was he to say that Caitlin couldn't have gut instincts too?
Women's intuition, he had heard it called now and again.
Well, Megan Ravenson he knew had something a little more precise and reliable than her gut or even intuition, and something had brought her to his door at almost exactly the same time.
They couldn't both be wrong, he told himself now, watching the two women weighing each other up silently, trying to work out what the other might mean to his young friend Hawke, as he settled him self in his seat and waited.
"Something happened to String," Caitlin finally broke the silence at last, a statement not a question, Santini noted, and waited for Meg to respond.
"Why are you asking me something that you already know, Caitlin?" Megan countered, although in truth she knew that it had not been a question.
Caitlin flicked her gaze sideways to regard Santini, but he remained unresponsive and so she returned her gaze to Megan Ravenson and watched as the blonde leaned forward slightly in her chair to place her mug of barely touched coffee on the desk roughly half way between herself and Dominic Santini.
"I don't claim to be psychic," Caitlin spoke again, her eyes cold and her tone condescending.
"I'm not saying that you are, Caitlin," Megan cut in, her tone neutral, her expression understanding. "You can't explain it, and you don't understand it, but you are intuitive enough to know that something wasn't right. You trusted in your instinct. You believed it, and it scared you so deeply you felt compelled to act on it."
"Yeah," Caitlin conceded now on a sigh of resignation.
"You didn't question it. You just knew that you had to follow it through."
"Yeah."
"Well, that is all that I am doing too, Caitlin," Megan explained patiently.
"You saw something?" This came from Dominic Santini now, adjusting his position in his seat, indicating to both Megan and Caitlin his barely controlled impatience to get to the point and for them to stop pussy footing around each other. "You had a vision?"
"Something like that, but it was the dream that I had last night that indicated to me that I really needed to speak to String."
Santini nodded, recalling that she had told him that she had come looking for String because she needed to speak with him, but once she had learned that he was away on vacation her perception of whatever it was that she had seen must have suddenly changed.
Dominic Santini interpreted that to mean that the message that she had wasn't for Hawke, but about him.
"At first I didn't even know that what I was sensing had anything to do with String, Dom," Megan began to explain, focusing her attention on Dominic Santini's open face, sensing irritation from the red headed woman standing beside him and knowing that if she allowed her too, Caitlin's negativity would only make her angry.
It was an odd reaction from a woman who had had some inexplicable 'feeling' that something was not right, that the man that she loved might be hurt or dying, and which had caused her to race back to Los Angeles.
She should have been a little more tolerant and understanding, having experienced it for herself, and fleetingly, Megan wondered if Caitlin regarded her as a rival for Hawke's affections, and that was why she was so irritated and dismissive.
Caitlin obviously liked the idea of being the one to come to Hawke's rescue and resented the fact that Megan had sensed that he might be in danger too.
Caitlin did not know how she should be feeling right now, because Megan suspected that Caitlin thought that she was closer to Hawke than her liking.
Good old fashioned jealousy!
Now that was a refreshing change!
"It was just a general sense of unease," Meg continued now, trying to hide her amusement at the thought that Caitlin was harboring fears that Hawke might have some kind of romantic feelings for her.
"A sense that something was coming, vague allusions to a bird of prey, which I eventually took to mean could have something to do with Hawke, and then last night I had a very vivid dream about two young men fighting in a foreign jungle. Vietnam, I think," she paused to draw in a refreshing breath and saw Santini nod softly and took this to mean that she was right and that she should go on.
"String was flying a chopper, a rescue mission I feel, retrieving men from a tight spot deep in the jungle. One of those men was his brother, Sinjin. I thought the message I had for Hawke had something to do with his continuing search for his brother," Meg continued, then felt compelled to explain her self when she saw the frown tugging at Santini's brow.
"The last time I saw him, some months ago, I told String that he shouldn't give up hope. He believes that Sinjin is alive, and I told him that I think he is right, and not to give up on looking for him."
"You thought maybe he was planning to go off on some crusade to look for Sinjin?"
"I don't know what I thought, only that I had to see him. Sometimes, when I see the person the message is meant for, things become a little clearer," Megan explained, noting Caitlin O'Shannessy shuffling impatiently on the other side of the room, obviously uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.
"I was hoping that when I saw Hawke, the second part of the dream would become a little less confusing for me," Megan sighed softly now, trying to organize her thoughts.
"Why didn't you come sooner?" Caitlin demanded. "If you were so worried?"
"I wasn't worried exactly. Disturbed. Confused," Megan sighed softly and regarded Caitlin with understanding eyes. "I have a life too you know. I have my work, my home. If for one minute I had sensed that the vision was significant, that it meant something awful had happened to Hawke, then of course I would have come here at lunch time, but there was no such indication and I felt I had a better chance of catching him here toward the end of the day, when he was back from whatever flying jobs you might have been doing."
"You said something about a second part to the dream," Santini prompted now, drawing Megan's attention back from Caitlin's angry face.
"I saw a jeep travelling along a mountain road. There was a loud bang and suddenly the vehicle became uncontrollable, the driver fighting with the wheel, and before you ask, no, I couldn't see who the driver was, Dominic. All I saw was the jeep fail to negotiate a sharp bend and fly off the side of the mountain …." Meg's voice trailed away as she realized the absurdity of what she was about to say.
"And?" Santini prompted.
"And I saw the jeep change into the same bird of prey I saw in an earlier vision."
"And you think the bird is Hawke?" Caitlin demanded haughtily.
"It seemed a reasonable assumption. A hawk is a bird of prey after all, but I didn't think it meant him literally, Caitlin. I associated seeing the bird with having a message to pass on to Hawke, but then Dom told me when I got here that String is away on vacation, and suddenly the only thing that made sense to me was that for once, what I was seeing was meant to be taken literally. Hawke is the bird in the vision, and I think he's in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Santini demanded now, leaning in across the desk to fix Megan with wide, anxious rheumy brown eyes.
"Easy Dom, I already told you, but for Caitlin's benefit and for the record, I don't believe that Hawke is dead," Megan replied to Santini's question in a soft voice meant to be calm and reassuring and sincere, and out of the corner of her eye noted immediately the expression of relief that settled on Caitlin's face.
"You know that I can't be specific, Dom. You of all people should know that that is not how this thing works, but if I am meant to take the vision literally, I think perhaps he was in a car wreck, or had some kind of accident."
Caitlin and Santini exchanged worried glances.
"Perhaps I'm interpreting what I saw too literally," Meg said with an edge of uncertainty to her voice now.
"And perhaps you're not," Dominic Santini responded gruffly.
"I'm not used to it being quite so …." Meg's voice trailed away as she tried to find the right word, and came up short, however Santini understood what she was trying to say.
"I know, but you have to go with your instinct and your experience, Meg. So what happens now?" Santini directed himself to Megan, but it was Caitlin who responded.
"We hit the radio and the telephone."
"And who should we call, Cait?" Santini tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Whoever Hawke is staying with," she countered, throwing him a hurt look. "You do know where he was heading?" she glowered at him now. "Didn't you even get a number, in case of emergencies?"
"Who was he gonna call? I was supposed to be in Europe and you were in Texas for crying out loud! He knew there wouldn't be anyone here to take his call," Santini pointed out gruffly.
"So?" Caitlin prompted once more.
"All I know is he was going to Washington State. Somewhere in the Cascade Mountains," Santini sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward in exasperation at the incredulous way Caitlin was regarding him now.
"Ah C'mon Cait, you know Hawke as well as I do. He keeps things pretty close to his chest, and only tells you what he wants you to know. Be grateful he even told me that much," Santini protested weakly. "All I know is he got a letter from an old Army buddy inviting him to come stay."
"Which old Army buddy?"
"Charlie Roth."
"Dom!" Caitlin exclaimed, moving forward swiftly to sweep up the telephone receiver from its cradle. "Why didn't you say that before! How many Charlie Roth's can there be in Washington State!" she snapped, her fingers hovering over the dial.
"Who are you calling?"
"Directory assistance."
"Don't bother," Santini sighed heavily.
"Dom, I don't care if I have to call every Charlie Roth in the phonebook! Don't worry, I'll pay for the calls!"
"I'm not worried, Cait! I'm not that big a skinflint!" Santini roared. "But you'd just be wasting time. He ain't in the book, Cait. I doubt Charlie Roth even has a telephone! He's even more of a recluse than Hawke."
Caitlin O'Shannessy's beautiful animated features morphed firstly from excitement to disbelief and then to an expression of bewilderment and finally exasperation as she replaced the telephone receiver back on its cradle none too gently.
"Don't look at me like that Cait, it ain't my fault. I ain't his keeper! He's a grown man and can take care of himself, so what he don't tell, I don't ask! What exactly did you think was the attraction up there?"
Santini arched an eyebrow now and watched as Caitlin caught her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it, briefly, her mind focusing on why Hawke would have chosen that particular destination to take his vacation.
"It's just like home."
"Exactly. It's just like home. Remote, isolated and as far away from civilization as he can safely get," Santini concurred.
"And not the kind of place for someone to be having any kind of accident," Megan added, recalling again the images from her dream, the wide grey ribbon of empty road surrounded by tall majestic trees, then clamped her lips firmly shut, realizing that it hadn't been the most tactful thing to say.
"Yeah. Right," Caitlin scowled at Megan as though she did not need or appreciate the reminder.
"I'm sorry …."
"I doubt this guy Roth even has a postal address. He probably gets his mail at a PO Box or has it directed to a local store," Santini pondered out loud now.
"Did Hawke say anything at all about where he was going?" Caitlin asked now, fishing for a clue in even the most mundane thing that Hawke might have told his old friend about his destination, the look on her face clearly conveying to Santini that she thought that it was utter madness that he could just let Hawke disappear off into the sunset without knowing a darn thing about where he was heading.
"Only that it's like a little piece of heaven up there, clean mountain air and crystal clear waters of the lakes."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"So how did he plan to get there?" Megan asked, watching the interaction between Santini and Caitlin.
It was a perfectly reasonable question, and Megan knew that she had said the right thing when she watched Dominic Santini's soft brown eyes grow wide in his face and his eyebrows rise up into his thinning hairline.
"That's it!" Santini erupted out of his seat, strong arms reaching out to support his weight as he leaned across the desk, a wide grin splitting his familiar features and revealing the small gap between his top front teeth.
"Meg I could kiss ya!" he chuckled at the startled look on the blonde woman's face.
"Something I said?"
"Sure was! Boy I am an idiot!"
"You won't get an argument from me," Caitlin put in, but she too was smiling, realizing the direction her boss's thoughts were heading. "He was going to fly, wasn't he Dom?"
"Yeah. He asked if he could borrow the Hughes 500 we finished overhauling last week. I noticed immediately that it was gone."
"Then Hawke will have filed a flight plan!" Caitlin grinned excitedly now. "I'll run on over to the Air Traffic Control tower and see if they will give me his destination. If we find where he left the Hughes, we can maybe pick up Hawke's trail from there."
"It's a start."
After Caitlin had rushed out of the office, Dominic Santini sat back down in his seat and regarded Megan Ravenson. She was still sitting in the same position, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"What else, Meg?" Santini probed, concerned that there was maybe more that she wasn't telling them, that she was holding something back to spare Caitlin's feelings.
"Nothing," she smiled back at him now, wanting to reassure him that she had not withheld any information, but he continued to regard her questioningly. "I was just thinking."
"What?"
"I was trying to figure out how I could be more helpful to you."
"And?"
"I was wondering if you would be prepared to take me up to Hawke's cabin? I might be able to get a stronger sense of him there. I might be able to get a clearer link to him, close to the things he loves, every day things that reflect his personality, stuff like that."
"That's a fine idea, Meg. Of course I'll take you up there."
"You don't think Hawke would mind?"
"Under the circumstances, no. I think he would be just fine about it. I'm sure Tet would be glad to see a friendly face too."
"Thanks, Dom."
"No, thank you."
"Dom, you know I hope I'm wrong about this, don't you?"
"Yeah, I know, but somehow, I don't think you are. You've been doing this all your life, Meg, you know when it feels right. You should have more faith in your gift, honey."
"Maybe, but it isn't perfect. I don't always get it right. You know that."
"You've been right more often than you've been wrong, at least when I've seen you work, Meg, even when being right didn't always bring the best news," he told her sincerely, letting her know that whatever the outcome, he would not blame her, reminding her that he wasn't inclined to shoot the messenger.
"I've seen the good things you do, Meg, I know how it affects you and what it takes out of you, physically and emotionally. I know that you wouldn't be here if you didn't believe that it was important, and that's good enough for me. I trust you, and I know you'll be honest with me, no matter what."