(Day One) Chapter One

The tall dark haired man leaned back in his seat stretching the cramp out of his leg. He had been in the first-class section of flight 187 for three hours now, headed for a no name town in the middle of nowhere. His trip seemed to have started off jinxed, if one believed in such things. He had forgotten his cellphone in the taxi and then one of his suitcases had been lost by the airline when he got off to change flights. Luckily his identification and his important documents were carried in his briefcase. He stared down at the business cards he had made up at the last minute. Fisher & Owen Banking. It appeared satisfactory for a rush job. His name was right there underneath…Daniel Ramsey. It was amazing what you could accomplish nowadays with the right equipment. He placed it back in his inside jacket pocket with the dozens of others. His attention returned to his open laptop. He continued to examine the files his employer had emailed to him. It was supposed to have been an easy job with not much effort, but things never went the way they were supposed to, at least it seemed that way from his past experiences. The old buzzard he was supposed to handle had been stubborn as a pit-bull forcing him to fly out for a face to face.

His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the cute brunette flight attendant bringing his Bourbon on the rocks, ordered what seemed to have been forever ago.

She flashed him a smile, handing him the drink, “Are you enjoying your trip, sir?” Her voice was light and bubbly.

“Now I am.” He said admiring her long tanned legs.

Her smile grew wider and cheeks blushed. “Business or pleasure?” She asked, leaning against the empty seat in the aisle beside him.

“Business I’m afraid.” Ramsey told her.

“Too bad. New Mexico’s a beautiful place this time of year. I spent a few months there after high school.” As she continued to babble on he sat there half hearing her words because his focus was glued to her skirt that she filled out pretty nicely.

“Maybe if you’re still around when my work’s done you could show me some good spots.” He offered.

Her face showed disappointment, “I wish but after we touch down we’re scheduled to head to Dallas.”

“What a shame.” He took a sip from his cup tasting the bitter liquid. “Maybe you could have made this trip worthwhile.” Before she could respond the plane began to rumble. The lights flickered above and an abrupt jolt sent the flight attendant into Ramsey's lap spilling his drink to the floor.

Turbulence struck the plane causing the large tin can to rock up and down. Diaz looked up from his seat in coach and saw the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign flash on above his head. All around him people began to grow restless as concerned voices rippled through the rows.

The male flight attendant was bracing himself in the doorway to the first-class area, trying his best to display a demeanor of composure. But it was clear he was just as panicked as everyone else. “Please everyone remain calm. We just hit an air pocket. There's nothing to worry about.” He said in a shaky voice.

Diaz and those around him fumbled with their seat belts as the plane gave another hard shake to the side. A baby some seats behind him started wailing at the top of its lungs as a runaway cart rolled passed, tossing around cans of soda and tiny bags of peanuts in its wake. He settled back in relief as he heard his catch click close cursing himself for deciding to travel to New Mexico in the first place.

Over the intercom system a female's voice filled the compartment. “Pardon me ladies and gentlemen. This is your pilot speaking. We’ve seemed to have hit some bad air. We will be ascending to a higher altitude in hopes to give you a more pleasant ride. So sit tight and keep calm.”

‘Keep calm’ that was a laugh. Diaz took a look out of his half opened window and saw the angry gray storm clouds closing in around them. A spark of lightning flashed a few miles off in the distance. He quickly closed the shade as he felt his heart skip a beat. He knew it would be a long bus ride back to New York but this would be the last time he would fly the friendly skies ever again. His whole ordeal had started when he had gotten that letter three months ago in the mail addressed to an old foster home where he had been placed for a brief time six years prior. He removed the wrinkled envelope from his jacket pocket and reread the return address for the thousandth time. He had looked at it so many times the words were burned into memory, but he could not help it. Fear that the letter was just something he had dreamed up drove him to the point of insanity.

The envelope was covered in dozens of postmarks from being sent back and forth so long. The return address was from ‘Sullivan Investigations’. The contents it held within had been equally surprising and he still found it a little hard to believe even as he unfolded the letter and let his eyes linger over the typed note:

Diaz Rosa,

I am writing this letter in hopes of contacting 

you. I, Frank Sullivan of Sullivan

Investigations, have been employed by

your grandmother, Eleanor Rosa, in 

the task to track you down.

Due to her failing health she is 

unable to do so herself. Please contact me at

the number listed below…

At the bottom of the letter was the number of the investigator's office that Diaz had spent days pondering whether to dial. He had never really gotten a chance to know his parents since they had died when he was merely six years old. Now all that he carried of them were a few vague memories. When he had finally gotten up the nerve to call the investigator he felt a certain disinterest in the subject. The man had forgotten all about the case in the years that had passed. He was forced to go through his files and dig up the information. The detective informed Diaz that his grandmother lived in a very small town called Black Creek. He also supplied him with a phone number where she could be reached. When he mustered up the courage to call the number he found a frail yet firm voice. They had spoken briefly over the phone and she had sounded pleased that he had decided to follow through with calling. Their conversation ended with an invitation to visit which he accepted.

The plane shook again, this time more fierceness jerking him abruptly from his thoughts. Diaz quickly placed the letter back into his pocket. 

“First time flying, huh?” The elderly woman sitting next to him asked, seeing his white knuckles gripping the armrest nervously.

He nodded, forcing a half smile, “Yeah. I guess it shows.”

"Don't worry, hun. I've been flying for years and I've always made it home in one piece."

Though he knew she was trying to reassure him it did not make him feel any easier.

She rummaged around in her purse for a second, "Here try this." She brought out a small round yellow coated item.

He stared uncertainly at her.

"It’s just butterscotch. I find it helps calm my nerves.” She insistently held her hand towards him with a warm smile. “It may help you too."

Diaz took it from her and unwrapped it. "Thank you." At this point anything was worth a try.