Page 8 of No Time Off (Lexi Carmichael Mystery #15)

EIGHT

Slash

T he bag drop for our domestic flight to Hawaii was at the opposite end of the terminal from most international airlines. I kept a steady scan of the crowd, searching for anyone who might be paying unusual attention to us. Nothing stood out, and we dropped our bags and headed to security.

“Do you think we’ll have any problem getting through TSA?” Lexi asked me anxiously, even though we’d already discussed it a dozen times.

“I’d be surprised if we did. We still look like our passport photos, and we aren’t using a false identity. It not against the law to change your hair color, wear a wig, or don a fake mustache. Plus, they don’t give more than passing attention to the pictures. We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” She blew out a breath. “But I had a nightmare last night that everything went perfectly with our plan, but then we were arrested because I had too much liquid in my backpack. Not surprisingly, I’ve checked it three times already.”

“Just relax,” I assured her. “It’s time for us to wind down and start enjoying our honeymoon.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t mind flying.”

Her voice sounded irritable, but I knew it was prompted by a genuine dislike for airplanes. None of which I could blame her for, because crazy things had happened when she was in the air, including an actual crash that she had miraculously survived.

“I’m right here with you,” I said taking her hand. “We’ve got this.”

Despite her nervousness, she smiled, and we passed through security uneventfully. We headed to the transportation that took us to our gate area.

Lexi’s stomach growled. “Can we get some breakfast first? With all the excitement, we didn’t eat anything.”

“Sure. Remember, the flight is supposed to serve us breakfast in first class, too. But let’s get something to tide us over until then, including coffee. I could definitely use some of that.”

We each grabbed a bagel and coffee and a fruit cup to share and then headed to the gate to eat.

We found several seats with our backs to the windows. Sitting across from us were two older women. One of them was wearing a calf-length, flowered dress and staring at me. When my gaze met hers, she smiled, and I smiled back. She whispered something to her friend, and they started giggling. I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but it seemed harmless.

Lexi and I ate our bagels and drank bad airport coffee as I continued to survey the gate area for unwanted attention.

I threw our trash away, and when I returned to my seat, Lexi whispered in my ear, “Slash, check out the paper she’s reading.”

The woman on the left had opened a gossip tabloid called the Global Enquirer . On the front page were multiple images of us. One of the photos showed us racing from the church at our wedding. Another showed Lexi at the grocery store buying a box of Cheerios. The last picture was a more recent closeup of both of us getting into our car in front of our house.

“Stay calm,” I murmured quietly. “They’re not going to recognize us in our disguises.” Yet, despite my reassurances, I had real doubts, as our faces occupied more than half of the front page of the tabloid.

Finished, the woman handed the paper to her friend in the flowered dress. “Look at these two on the cover,” she said, tapping her finger directly on my photo. “He kind of looks like a movie star. James Bond, maybe, but his hair is longer and darker, and he’s a lot sexier than that stuffy British guy. Maybe he’s Spanish. The girl, however, doesn’t look like any Bond girl I remember.”

“Well, Maybelle, you don’t remember like you used to,” her friend cackled.

Maybelle chuffed. “Ha. The paper claims they work for the government, but no one knows who they are. They’re probably secret agents like Bond. That girl, though—who eats Cheerios anymore?”

I felt Lexi stiffen beside me as I tried not to laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Maybelle. I just had Cheerios for breakfast before I came to the airport,” the woman in the dress said. “But you’re not even close to knowing what’s going on. I know who they really are.”

Maybelle glanced at her with wide eyes. “You do? Are you going to tell me?”

“Of course I am. They’re part of the X-Files.”

“The X-Files?”

“You know, aliens. They’re among us. That’s why they’re hiding their identities.” She tapped her finger on my photo again. “No one is this good-looking. He must be some artificial intelligence robot or an alien who they trapped using a fake wedding to lure him out.”

Maybelle looked at her in disbelief. “Why would a wedding attract an alien?”

“How would I know the motivations of an alien?”

Lexi and I exchanged incredulous glances, and I could tell she was struggling to keep a straight face. I hoped my expression didn’t betray my thoughts, which were decidedly mixed at the moment.

“Aliens blend in so well, they could be anywhere,” the woman in the flowered dress continued, lowering her voice. “They could be right in front of us and we’d never know it.”

I suddenly had an idea, so I leaned forward to engage them. “Excuse me, ladies, would you mind if we borrowed your paper when you’re finished with it? My wife left her reading material at home.”

Lexi cast me a surprised glance but went along with it. “Yeah, I…ah, love reading the Global Enquirer .”

“Of course,” Maybelle said, promptly handing me the paper. “We’re done with it. Just be warned, young man, there’s not much substance in these papers. Only fools believe everything they read. When I want the truth, I go to the internet.”

“Is that so?” I said politely, accepting the paper. “Thank you for sharing.”

“Our pleasure,” she said.

The two women went back to chatting, so I handed Lexi the paper, lowering my voice. “Hey, Scully, check out the article and see what it says about us.”

“Very funny,” she hissed back.

I chuckled. “Just keep our photos out of sight, and hopefully no one else will see them.”

“Sure, Mulder. Your wish is my command.”

She pretended to read the paper with the front page deftly folded inside until it was time to board. When they called for first class to board, we stood along with the ladies. They boarded ahead of us and took the two seats directly across the aisle from us.

“This could be interesting,” Lexi murmured.

“Or a long flight,” I replied.

We stowed our carry-ons and sat down in the seats, stretching out our legs. The flight attendant brought us champagne, orange juice, and small canapés for a snack before we took off. Lexi disappeared to the bathroom, still nervous, so I took a couple of sips of the champagne and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes.

It had been an eventful morning.

After a few minutes, I started to get a funny feeling I was being watched, so I cracked open an eye. The woman in the flowered dress had turned around in her seat and was staring me.

“You know, young man, you look familiar. Do I know you?”

Inwardly, I tensed, but I kept a pleasant expression on my face. “I can’t recall that we’ve ever met, ma’am, other than at the gate a few minutes ago. Perhaps you’re thinking of someone else?”

Her forehead wrinkled, and she stroked her chin. “Maybelle, how do I know this young man?” she asked her friend, who leaned forward in her seat and began staring at me, too.

“I don’t know, but you’re right. There is something familiar about him.”

The first woman continued to stare at me with fierce intensity, as if the answer would materialize based on sheer will alone. “Oh, that’s how I know you,” she suddenly exclaimed. “I never forget a face.”

Lexi returned to her seat at that moment, looking between me and the women in alarm. I gave her a reassuring smile as she sat down and fastened her seat belt. She picked up her champagne and took a sip.

“And how is it you know me?” I asked calmly.

“You’re the Tampon Hero,” she said.

Lexi spewed her champagne, and I blinked in a mix of shock and surprise. Of all the things she could have said, I hadn’t seen that one coming.

“Am I right, Maybelle? That’s him, isn’t it?”

The older woman nodded. “You’re right. He’s the guy. That’s him. You’re the guy who stopped the robbery at that gas station mart where you’d gone to buy some tampons for your girlfriend. You have a mustache now, but I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.” She pointed to Lexi. “Are you his girl?”

Lexi grinned, patting her mouth with a napkin. “I am. I’m that girl who needed the tampons.”

A small choking noise came from my throat, and I coughed once to clear it.

“Oh my goodness,” the woman gushed. “Your man singlehandedly saved everyone’s lives that day and trussed up the robber like a cooked goose before bringing home your goodies. I read the entire story in the Global Enquirer right after it happened.”

“That story was…in the Global Enquirer ?” I choked again and this time took a large swig of champagne.

“It was. There were photos of you standing with the policeman in front of the mart and you were holding the tampon boxes. There were interviews with the cashier, the owner, and the police, who said you took down the robber all by yourself. There was shattered glass and bullet holes and Cheetos and potato chips scattered across the floor where you’d fought for your life and the lives of everyone in that mart. It was an amazing story. I knew you were famous.”

I glanced at Lexi, who had pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. I certainly wasn’t getting any help there. Better to nip this in the bud and hopefully they’d leave us alone.

I gave her a sheepish smile. “Ah, I’m afraid you have me, madam. But as that was months ago, and it really wasn’t that big of a deal, we’d appreciate it if you kept our little secret.”

The woman looked at me with widened eyes. “It certainly was a big deal, young man. You’re a real-life hero, putting your life on the line for the safety of others. Your humility is admirable, but for heaven’s sake, take credit where credit is due.”

Lexi smacked me on the arm, smiling widely. “Yeah, take credit where credit is due.”

I lifted an eyebrow, promising retribution later, as Maybelle lowered her voice. “Listen, I understand you’re embarrassed by the attention. The sign of a true hero. If you don’t want us to say anything, we won’t. Our lips are sealed.”

“Sealed,” the other lady agreed, nodding conspiratorially.

“I appreciate that,” I said.

Lexi was still chuckling as we took off, having forgotten, or at least ignoring, her fear of flying.

I took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?” I asked her softly.

“Nope,” she replied, shaking her head. “And you shouldn’t. You’re a hero to many, Slash. But more importantly, you’re my hero.”

Her words touched me because I knew she meant them. She was the most genuine person I’d ever met. As an adult, I’d been trained to lie, deceive, and even hurt people in the name of national security until I believed it was the only way to right a wrong or stop an evil. I thought all people acted deceitfully in one way or another. No, I expected it. That distrustful, dark part of me still existed, but I’d changed after I met her. Not everyone was like that. What you saw with Lexi was what you got. She was blessedly authentic, intelligent, and loving. No games, no lies, no ulterior motives. Deceit simply wasn’t in her. It still surprised me that despite knowing the real me—darkness and all—she still loved me. She was unquestionably the best part of my life, and I couldn’t imagine living it without her.

The rest of the flight was blessedly quiet. We sat holding hands, watching movies, and napping. Slowly, the constant presence of coiled tension in my gut began to lessen, and I relaxed.

“Happy honeymoon,” I whispered to Lexi in the dim cabin as she began to drift off to sleep.

“Happy honeymoon, Slash,” she whispered, smiling drowsily. “May it be our best time together yet.”

We fell asleep still holding hands. The entire flight, we never even pulled out our laptops once.