After Five
“I’ve been thinking about what I saw,” Allie told Simon and Garfingle the next day, “when we were coming in for a landing.
Everything was flying around the cabin and I was pinned against the window, so I can’t be sure. But I think our plane might’ve
The big man with the Burt Reynolds ’stache made a small nod—the tiniest gesture of approval.
“Yes. Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.”
“Do you think you could sign a statement to that effect?”
“Put one in front of me,” she said.
Simon nodded again. “Yesterday you told me you saw something out the window, some sort of atmospheric phenomenon, perhaps.
Say you were invited on Good Morning America and they asked you about your ordeal. What would you tell them?”
“First I’d tell Joan Lunden she has great hair. Then I’d say it was pretty scary out there. A lot of lightning flashing around.
Big black clouds. Then a little kid started screaming there was a monster out there. We were all freaked out. But, of course,
the only monster was the one on the plane with us. Horation Matthews.”
The big man in the bad coat winked at her, pushed himself off the wall, and left the room. It was quiet after the door clicked
shut behind him. Simon considered some papers in front of him.
“That’s great,” he said finally. “We’ll work on a statement, and we should have it ready for your signature by this afternoon. I don’t mind saying, Miss Shiner, that what you did on BA 238 was incredibly brave. There are four hundred people who owe you their—”
“Do you really think this is going to work?” she cut him off.
Simon lifted his chin and gave her a bland stare. “Is what going to work?”
“Do you really think you can get another four hundred people to tell this same story? After what we all saw?”
Simon cocked his head to one side, seemed to give it his genuine consideration. At last he said, “Why wouldn’t they? It’s
the truth, after all. And people who can’t tell the difference between truth and make-believe, Miss Shiner, are seriously
ill. People like that wind up in hospitals pumped full of dope. It’s sad. You hate to see it. But you figure it’s best for
them.” He straightened up. “It helps that most people kept their shades down and were afraid to look.” Which was the closest
he ever came to admitting there had been something out there besides the F-16s. “I think we’re done here. And please, I do
hope I can offer my congratulations.”
She frowned, had no idea what he was talking about.
“On your impending nuptials,” Simon said. “I understand your pastor is flying in from Vermont? We’re all so glad for you.
I think one of our PR folks is hoping to touch base with you later this afternoon. People magazine would like to take some photos of the ceremony. Everyone loves a happy ending.”